A/N: In which there is angst and a Trunks POV. And Juuhachigou breaks a lamp.

Also, vague mentions of drug abuse, attempted murder on Goku's part, and having a second child.

I'd also like to recommend reading Gohanroxme' s 'Double Killed' because that story's going to have some no-doubt darkly humorous Juuhachigou/Krillin action soon, and walutahanga's story 'Ash' for an awesome take on Maron and the alternative timeline and a whole new way of looking at Krillin/18.

'I woke up in a Lego bedroom
Sleeping in my burlap sack
And all the mosquitoes know I love you
Can I love me just as much
And I had breakfast with my shadow
We had quite the discussion
Can you fall in love with the things you only know
The things you may never touch?

'The same old same old
I appreciate the opportunity over and over
But I had supper with my shadow
And we had quite the discussion
If I truly believe that things can change
Will I wake up to something different?

Different in how?'

Breakfast with my Shadow, Cloud Cult

152. Is this appropriate at our age?

This was pretty much the last thing he expected to do with these three frienemies. The cruel twins and the vaguely nice giant, and him, helping each other? Sure, he'd tried to get them to change, turn over a new leaf or however that phrase went, to rethink their stance to become good guys. They weren't supposed to corrupt him. Really, joining their side and turning against his best friend, for revenge? Him? He was supposed to be the loyal one.

Yet here he was, crouched outside the house, in some bushes, bearing pepper spray with Juunanagou, armed with a bat, at his elbow. The taller man was grinning, a white curve in the darkness. Juuhachigou had a net and indefinitely patience when it came to harming others. Juurokugou needed no weapon. In the nearby van, Vegeta had a useless black ski mask besides him while Bulma sat behind the wheel with a hand on the ignition. Chi-Chi sat in the passenger's seat, and like Juurokugou, wanted her hands free.

It was a harmless prank, really. They weren't even shaving any eyebrows or hair off. But they had to teach their friend a lesson, for what he'd done. Such a careless act of negligence, one that wasn't properly apologized for, and thus forgiven, had come complete with head rubbing and nervous laughter. 'Sorry you guys.'

Considering how bad the situation had been, they had all decided to voice how much they wanted to punish him. And it wasn't careless talk of torture that they'd done while wandering the desert, hopelessly lost, daydreaming and weeping at the memory of ice water and ice cream until Bulma had finally dealt him and Vegeta forehands and backhands to the face and told the two men to pull it together. They'd all exchanged lurid tales of fire ants and Goku covered in honey, of plucked eyes and flayed skin, like the dwindling water in the canteen. Back and forth, but with stories they could tell the other to go on and have some more, really go on about bamboo shards and fingernails.

When they'd reached civilization that they'd been partially convinced had all been a mirage, riding in the back of a rusted van, the rage had stayed with them for longer than the sunburn.

How dare Goku jump in the back of the motorbike to ride back to the city, carrying Bulma's cell phone, leaving them in a hot car with little gas left in the tank. How could he just do such a thing? They hadn't wanted to believe it at first, especially Krillin. No way could such a light-hearted man leave them to die in the desert. He'd said he'd be gone an hour, just to check out something out here, and just sit there, cause they were totally going to dinner in a second. Then he'd driven away in a cloud of brown dust.

Chi-Chi had been the first to lose her faith, saying that he pulled this crap sometimes, got distracted by something shiny and left her alone in the mall. She was the first out of the car with its failing air conditioner. The first one to make such a drastic move.

Bulma had gathered supplies, muttering vague saying that would grow to become embellished fantasies of pain and bloodshed of their oldest friend. She found crushed half-empty water bottles and used the aluminum windshield cover and a broken tennis racket as a crude umbrella. It was good to know all the engineering classes could transfer to real, life-saving preparation.

Vegeta had stayed longer to the cause, unable to believe such callousness of his old nemesis. This was something he'd do, and he kept looking out the windows like an abandoned pet. Any second he would be back and then the shorter man could mock Goku for his stupidity, because all he'd done was get lost, right, right, right?

Krillin had believed that Goku hadn't truly left them, not on purpose anyway. He'd probably just hit his head on a rock, yeah, fell from his bike and smashed his head open and bled out. Now he was going to die, and they should be looking for him, they had to go get him! Vegeta had shaken him by the shoulders, yelling that Kakarotte had left them in that car to suffocate, knowingly or not, he was gone, and they had to forget about him and move on.

'It wasn't something that you'd do to an animal,' Bulma had shrieked, wildly swinging the tennis racket, after maybe a searing hour. 'You could go to jail for doing this to an animal!' The others nodded with what little energy they could muster, raising their t-shirts/jackets higher over their heads to further block out the sun.

For the longest time, Krillin kept seeing Goku's smashed head spread over a rock, the blood drying quickly to a thick dark-brown-red pool that would flake away in time. Tortoises dragging themselves over his cooling yet cooking body. Vultures pecking away at his skin. Tortured himself with such thoughts and images. Until he fell to his knees again, face burning from the sun and where Bulma had slapped him. Bright steaks and dots of light floating around his vision. He told them of his image, and they all laughed together in joy.

The sun burned all the mercy from him. Cockroaches flying in Goku's eyes. Birds pulling out organs. Falling through the sky and never landing. Buried alive. Being eaten by a sarlaac, met with Vegeta calling Bulma a nerd. I want to cook his face on a frying pan. I hope he ran into some hillbillies, the Rob Zombie cannibal kind of hillbillies, not even the Deliverance type. I'm going to shoot his kneecaps off. I'm going to beat him to death with his own arm that I will rip off with a chainsaw. Something slow and painful, yes, all different sorts of methods were listed, but never dying of thirst.

It was manslaughter, was the consensus. What he'd done to them. Why should they do any differently? They all discovered a deep streak of sadism that not even Vegeta had known the full depths of which existed in them. None of them blamed each other; to claim that they deserved this for anything, even stuff like hitting Goku with their car (Bulma), robbing his house (Vegeta), the barrage of insults (Chi-Chi), and the time he'd accidentally given Goku a concussion by throwing a rock at him (Krillin). Like the rage, they learned of sympathy and empathy towards each other, teamwork, which kept them all silent about the plans made once they reached home.

That the odd Gero kids, all of whom disliked Goku, had been the ones to pick them was serendipity. They'd all looked up at the surprised androids in the evening glow from the moon with deadened eyes and chattering teeth. The teens and Juurokugou had handed over blankets and shirts, listening sympathetically to their ordeal. Gatorade and wine were passed out to grateful tears that even Vegeta had to hide.

'We thought we were going to die!'

'Wow, that sounds terrible.'

Krillin, the one with the best report with the 'triplets' wiped dust from his face, and asked them for their help when it came to revenge. Maybe they were just biding their time to make a move against Goku, or were so moved by the rage in his eyes, but they immediately agreed. Juuhachigou had given him an enigmatic smile that had awoken an emotion that it took him the rest of the car ride to figure out: happiness.

The next day, when Goku came by his house to find them all waiting inside and they got full confirmation he hadn't died in the desert, he'd been all, 'ooh, sorry guys. My bad. Boy, that was awful of me, huh? I thought you guys had enough gas to get home safely.' Like a kid that had spilled soda on the couch, or had forgotten a birthday. All slapping of his forehead. Nothing like a grown man who'd left friends to nearly die should act.

They were cold and in control, mostly nodding and giving him blank looks and quickly leaving his house. Only on the way out did Chi-Chi express the real emotion they all shared, 'we're going to get that bastard.' And they'd all nodded, eyes flat.

Perhaps, he thought now, crouched in bushes, they could have gone to the cops and done something legally. That's what adults did, right, solved their problems using laws and authority figures? Rational logic than vigilantism?

But it wasn't time for second thoughts.

Of course, when Goku finally left his house, shutting the front door without even locking it, that's how trusting he was, rage ended up overtaking the big man's friends before the android could even strike. They rushed from the van, screaming, howling, overtaking him and bearing weapons that ranged from the old tennis racket to bare fists to a line of strong rope.

The original plan to tie and abandon Goku out in the middle of the city was lost as Chi-Chi drove another fist into his stomach, Bulma smashed him upside the head with the racket and Vegeta began trying to strangle Goku. And Krillin lost his hold on his temper, and began looking for a rock, screaming about concussion, and in the end settled for helping the others make him eat dirt.

The three strange Gero kids could only stare at them, impressed.

153. Abducted

Were you supposed to look your captors in the eye? So far, only Krillin would meet her stare, and look at her with a disturbing mix of pity, admiration, and sympathy. Was it better or worse that there were no cameras? Either as evidence, or some clue as to what they wanted. After remembering that pervert Krillin lived with, she could almost believe it possible he had in mind to make an extra buck on the side and forcing her to be involved.

And that was why he'd removed the bomb.

What made the event more traumatic and odd was that they'd grabbed her off the side of a road, pulling her into an unmarked van. The driver had a mask over their head. "Oh don't mind her, Bulma got a rash from Trunks and won't go out in public unless her face is covered."

There were no seats left in the back of the grey van, its windows heavily tinted, and the metal on the doors heavy and soundproof. She sat on the ground, with three and a half men looking up at her. Only one smiled, and he didn't even count as a whole man. The other's had hats on that looked like they could at any second be pulled down to cover their faces.

If they were distracted for a moment, she could open the door and do a shoulder roll out onto the highway.

"So, did you find your brother?"

"Does he know where you are? Where you were headed?"

"Did anyone else see you?"

In the passenger's seat in front of the van, a baby cried. Someone held up an odd smelling rag, making Juuhachigou flinch, until they used it to wipe a bit of drool from the infant's face. She told herself to not accept any drinks they offered her.

"Where are you taking me?"

"Oh," Krillin smiled gently, and she suddenly noticed the mask he had tucked away in his pocket. "Don't worry about that."

"How do you feel about skiing?"

154. Endless Night

When she'd agreed to go out…no, when she agreed to leave the house with Krillin, and join him spending the evening with his friends, he'd left out some things. Like how toxic Vegeta and Bulma were together, that Piccolo was there, to scowl at her, and Yamcha to either avoid her eye, or whisper something to Krillin that she, (perhaps being too paranoid) thought was about her.

Or other things. Such as how close Chi-Chi was to popping out a child and was even moodier than ever.

He also had not said that there would be a movie that would accompany the dinner, or that it would be a romantic one that involved the audience making out with each other more than the characters on the screen.

There was also no mention of the game of laser tag to work off the meal, one where she and Krillin spent most of the evening hiding, huddling, behind fluorescent gargoyles and Styrofoam castles from Bulma and Vegeta, who were even more heartless together. They cornered another unfortunate soul. "Ha-ha, you want mercy, is that what you're asking of me? Well, you don't get it, no matter how much you beg."

"Woman," Vegeta grated, "Just shoot him and move on."

Piccolo barely had a chance to duck.

Followed by a lovely game of paintball that raised welts and stained all of their clothes and hair, and also involved hiding from the ferocious couple only this time in bushes that gave them rashes until the sun rose and Chi-Chi's screams that the baby was coming, it was coming, damn you all, would you take her to the hospital already?

Oh, and that she needed someone to hold her hand while she grimaced and cursed Goku's once existance, and who better than Juuhachigou—who then learned how strong the human female could get despite her inexperience in martial arts.

"Oh, god, I hate all of you," both Chi-Chi and Juuhachigou said, at nearly the same time.

Then that they had to sit in the hospital waiting room, as a sign of support and guilt for 'letting' the man who'd knocked her up die. For twenty-three hours. Drinking bad coffee, pacing around, watching the grainy TV screen, twitching at every scream, and trying to sleep in the flat wooden chairs, half on top of each other for some cushioning. And that at some point she ended up sleeping curled up against Krillin with her head against his unconscious stubbly one for support, and Bulma had pictures to prove it. "Oh god, it was the cutest thing. Literally. You could put it on cards and make puppies and evil dictators weep."

Her cooing and Juuhachigou's disgusted retort work Krillin up from his place on the side table, a magazine stuck to the side of his head. "Hmmm? You guys want to go to the cafeteria and get some food?"

The scientist all smug. "Oh. I think Juuhachigou would like that. You two go ahead...And bring me back some more coffee."

Interspersed with Piccolo running in to report the situation, greener than ever and occasionally dry heaving. "It has hair!"

And Vegeta pacing around going 'this son better not be stronger, better not be.' No one asked.

That, after a queasy Piccolo who'd cut the umbilical cord, a revolted Vegeta, a stunned Gohan, a happy Krillin and a sobbing Bulma, she would hold Goku's second and last son. A red misshapen screaming thing that didn't enjoy being manhandled by all these people and had the most pathetic little face and hair like his father. Who made her reluctantly smile from the weight and soft skin and tiny fingers that grabbed blindly for her hair before she tucked the baby back into his tired mother's arms.

A spectacle she had to admit was amazing, even in her exhausted state of caffeine and uneasy clinging feeling of having cuddled next to Krillin in her sleep.

No. He had neglected to mention any of this was to happen.

155. A thorn in your side

She awoke in the middle of a chilly night with unaccustomed sweat drying on her forehead. When was the last time she'd done anything so human? Not even fighting the Namek or the Saiyan had made her break into a sweat. She remembered their deaths, recalling the looks of disbeliefs that so many had worn as the blasts took them away. No one ever accepted that it was their time to go.

Though, replaying the short movies of the fights, the Namek had worn a grim smile on that green alien face, thinking he was distracting them from the boy who'd run away. But his smile had been nothing like…

Shit. Juuhachigou closed her eyes, unable to not pick at the scab, toy with the cut, rub the bruise. A remnant of her forgotten human past, no doubt. Like her sense of fashion and—whatever this was.

The wide-grin that nearly split his face in two, the sheen over his dark black-grey eyes, the stubble darkening the squarish jaw and round skull that she could destroy with so little energy. He was distracting and powerful only in this strange way that drew her eye and stayed her hand before the final blow. The oddly cynical look on his face as they met on the battlefield, him fighting without rage anymore. Knowing that he stood no more a chance than the others, less of one, yet still refusing to hide.

He would look her in the eye, and laugh, c'mon, Juuhachigou, please, what are you waiting for? Until neither were laughing and could only stare at each other in another ruined city, the buildings turned into grey rough mulch from a distance. Him looking up at her as she flew away, neither sad nor happy at surviving another day. Did he ever think, before she paused, a boot on his delicate white skull, 'Please? Oh, please? No more.'

Would there come a point when he Didn't Want To Play Anymore? How much did he care about his own skin? How far could you push a man that had little self-esteem even to someone who knew mostly of the man's fighting skills, a man who had cared and had only his friends? What was that man when you stripped his allies away? What was left?

She wanted to push him, leave him with nothing, to watch that cheerful smile finally die and the tear to run down the round cheeks, finally, finally for him to just stop. But even when he would dig for survivors did he struggle for optimism, always trying to make his young friend or the other refugees of this dying planet happy. He was a hero. Until something would finally break him.

Until...there would only be him.

She could do that. It was certainly more entertaining than chasing more humans into filthy holes and dirtying new clothes. His dark eyes would widen, not understanding what new game she was playing just as the others never understood that their death was coming. The way he would jump but slowly respond to her attentions. Hating himself all the while.

There was an unfamiliar thrumming in her stomach, and she had to wave off furiously the system going on about dilated pupils and dry mouths and raised heartbeats.

She had a horrible feeling exactly what this was.

156. Cheat

They worked out a system.

Master Roshi had his suspicious, but thought better of Krillin, and believed that there was no way that Juuhachigou would stoop to such a childish thing. Oolong did think they were capable of it, but couldn't quite catch them in the act. When he would stare at Juuhachigou, her face would be blank and turned away in disinterest. Krillin would just stare at the pig, innocent.

And that was why, whenever they managed to talk their roommates into a game of cards that quickly would turn 'interesting,' they always walked away a little richer.

157. Believe Me

(A/N: partially inspired by a DBZ comic of the sort that Master Roshi would read. That featured Juuhachigou and Krillin, and had me focusing more on how she'd somehow gotten into his house so quickly/easily more than anything else)

He was just sitting there, glancing through an old book he'd read years back and trying to remember the plotline, when Juuhachigou was there, right there, in front of his face. Up close, Krillin was torn between admiring how breathtakingly gorgeous she was, and how terrifying her expression was.

How had she gotten into the house so quickly?

"You're a fool."

The windows were still closed, and so was the door.

He closed the book. "Okay."

"You do not love me."

Her breathe was warm on his face, and made him squirm in his seat. "I do."

And then she was staring at him, mouth open, and eyes widening, and he understood that she'd worked up all her courage to just come inside and yell at him, to deny his feelings. What came after, she had no idea.

The locks on the door were still done up correctly and everything. How could she have gotten in? Through the chimney? There was no soot on her clothes.

"No, you don't."

"I think I'd know." Though, to be fair, he certainly had needed a few days, and a life-and-universe-changing decision to finally understand and embrace how he'd felt for her. Even now he was still trying to come to grips with it. It would hit him at certain moments. Opening the fridge, where's the milk, I am in love with Juuhachigou, where's the damn milk? Wow, look how big Chi-Chi's getting, wonder if it'll be a boy or girl, god I miss Juuhachigou, whom I'm in love with, is dinner almost done? Always it circled around the back of his head, waiting until he was weak to slap him and tumble him over into mixed emotions of desperation and loneliness and lust and revolution and hope, mind-numbing hope that could cancel everything out. A fact, a statement that he hoped with enough time would stop tugging at his heart and perhaps after enough repetition would no longer hurt so much. I love Juuhachigou. Love her love her love her.

And here she was, standing in front of him, as heartbreaking beautiful as a sunrise after a long, long painful night. The furrows in her forehead, the lines cut across the flawless skin. Blue darting eyes that were looking at him. He grinned at her, stupidly.

There was color draining from her already pale face. "But you don't."

"I do, okay?"

Her face was torn between frustration and horror. Pausing from freaking out only to tuck a loose hair out of her eyes. "You don't! You can't!"

She should just cut or style it differently, if it bothered her so much to have it in her face. Juuhachigou with short hair. Now that was an image to really focus on for too long until she looked ready to shake him. Her with bangs, maybe, curls? Oh god. He was leaning to the side a little, mind gone down a rabbit hole, I love her, just way way too much. "Can and do. Sorry?

"Say, where-"

And when Juuhachigou suddenly fled from him wildly, knocking over a lamp, he still couldn't find where she'd come from in the first place.

158. If only I hadn't opened that door

The knock was so flamboyant that Krillin should have known better than to answer it. But he was an optimist and too trusting, and a little dim at times, so he had no chance to protect himself when his ex- girlfriend came through the door.

There was a shower of blue-hair and girlish giggles. "Oh, Krillin!"

By the third day, Juuhachigou was in the midst of a breakdown. Emotionally, psychologically, physically, mentally, it was all being systematically destroyed. Her left eye wouldn't stop twitching. Never one for nervous habits, she now found her nails bitten down to the quick and her jaw hurt constantly from the teeth grinding she was now doing. She would find herself lying on the bed with an aching back, tensed just from being in that woman's presence.

She had spent time in Vegeta's and Bulma's house, babysat Goten and Gohan and had meals with Chi-Chi, sat through more than a dozen stilted conversations with Oolong and Master Roshi, lived in a van with her annoying brother and a nearly deaf android who loved birdwatching, had been eaten and held in the stomach for over a week of a giant mosquito created from the cells of the universe's best fighter.

But this, this was just a horrifying thing to live through.

It was too much.

The stupid comments, the cutting remarks and casual attempts at trying to get her into uncomfortable revealing outfits and to 'do something with her hair' were all annoying, but not the worst things about her. There were far worse things. Things that Juuhachigou didn't want to name at all, didn't want to admit since she was not entirely blind to the implications that might be presented.

Yet, as she winked at him when he brought her coffee, a dark frantic force began to beat its head against the padded walls.

There were things like…flirting with Krillin. Yes, fine, that was it. That was the worst part about her.

The pinching. The touching. Oh god. This was bad, this was awful and could no longer be denied. But she wanted to stab the woman when she made her remarks about Krillin's arms and chest, and overall any comment on his muscles. She wanted to punch her in the face, the force of which would sent what remained of the bubble-head into a wall when she tried to make the fighter flex. The rubbing of the head, oh, oh she wanted to rip that throat out and dance in the fountain of blood when Maron touched Krillin's head.

And Krillin just went along with it. Stealing little looks at the other although checking for their reaction (but seemingly unable to read Juuhachigou's) and letting her do whatever she wanted to him. He brought her food and drinks and magazines and spent time with her on the beach while upstairs Juuhachigou watched through a narrow slit in the blinds and then went to beat her head against the wooden walls.

Making her favorite breakfast while Juuhachigou looked for a long time at the sharp prongs of her fork.

Violet-grey irises blinked at her across the table. "You should get that eye looked at."

Why are you here. .

Krillin brought over her own coffee, looking concerned. "Yeah. It's kinda twitching pretty bad." Looking deep into her eyes and carefully, gracefully setting the mug down. Leaning into her, concerned, close enough for her to feel his body heat.

She knew him so well, she could read his mind. See all his thoughts and feelings and ideas. How he wanted to be nice to Maron, because he was a nice guy, and she seemed to like him and Juuhachigou sure didn't do that and since he had no shot with her, might as well go for the girl who showed affection and appeared to enjoy his company and attention.

But she doesn't appreciate you like I do, seemed to be a wholly selfish thought. Since when did she express any positive emotions that demonstrated how much he'd warped the beliefs and feelings she'd first had.

What the obviously, head-wall-poundingly obvious needed, was to show him she cared and returned his feelings. So the course of action was to be blatantly, bare-faced, straightforward, pellucid, nonambivalent about how she felt.

Which, in retrospect, as she bashed her head against the wall of her bedroom with Krillin half-dressed and looking on, probably shouldn't have involved throwing him onto the table and the mugs of hot coffee, jumping atop him for a bruising kiss that ended with her hissing, vividly, frighteningly, that he 'was her's, totally and utterly, her's and that no one else had any right to touch him or talk about his muscles but her' while the only other sound was of boiling coffee dripping to the floor and of Maron slowly backing away and his scared, pained quick breaths and her harsh exhales as she savored her possessive victory before dragging him upstairs.

By the time sanity came back, (at the moment he gave her an adoring look and asked if she loved him as much as he loved her) she found herself really and truly unable to take in the other woman's company. After she'd witnessed her breakdown, how could they even pretend to have normal small talk again?

Juuhachigou wished more than ever that she'd never shown up.

159. She had a record

How she found herself getting out of community service was by jumping and hiding in the cab of her brother's truck when he drove past her, slowly, mocking her by throwing garbage out the window and laughing hysterically.

It wasn't entirely her fault; after all, who could expect any sane human being to wear this tacky orange vest and pick up garbage and roadkill at the side of the road. And really, it wasn't her fault anyway. That cliché about 'oh, that's not mine, officer!' had been completely accurate. It really hadn't been her's. How stupid could you be, to go to a protest/mob/rally with a baggy full of illegal...material? You'd think that someone who was going to a place full of cops would know better than to be carrying that stuff, and let alone enough of that stuff to get you busted for possession with intent to sell.

Or, at least it would have had she not been forced to hide in a bathroom stall from the cops chasing her, and shoving down like a quarter of a pound of it down the toilet and swallowing the rest.

When the cops dragged her out of the stall, she'd been fine. And even when they were getting the handcuffs for 'resisting arrest'. But by the time they were taking her and dozens of others away, it began taking effect.

All because her brother had grabbed her and shoved a bag down her pocket, telling her to hold onto this for awhile before literally sprinting away. She'd rolled her eyes over it at the time, turning back to talk to the funny shaved-head monks who had threatening red plastic tanks full of gasoline and big pupils and serious ideas for this rally that didn't involve picking up rocks to throw through windows. They'd been surprisingly entertaining, and the short one cute enough to harass and ask embarrassing questions.

Juuhachigou had just been trying to peel away the onion of the questions about celibacy vows, enjoying how the little one squirmed and wrinkled his nose, when the cops immediately began throwing out tear gas and she saw SWAT gear. They had clubs out, and that was when she'd decided that this was enough of a cultural event. Surely, surely, her political science teacher would be satisfied with her brief report of this spectacle for extra credit, without having to see a printout of her arrest record?

She'd nearly forgotten completely about the baggy in her pocket until she started running. Goddamnit, Juunanagou, the blonde woman had though, being rushed ahead by the huge crowd of scared people. Knowing that if she slowed down to to think she would trip like Little Red Riding Hood and be stomped and crushed underfoot, like...well, maybe there wasn't a fable that involved trampling. Yet.

As she was dragged to the police car, blinking slowly, thinking over and over again, fuck, fuck, she hadn't seen her brother at all. He had a sixth sense for this stuff, and was always the first to be arrested while everyone jumped over fences and tossed their stolen beer cans away or tried to hide in the empty pool under an inflatable raft. Juunanagou was the type of guy that showed up just at the right time to cadge a beer from an underage kid and get a suspicious cigarette tucked behind his beer right as the cops broke down the door of the illegally rent house. But she hadn't seen him in the drunk tank full of stoned hippies, although, admittedly, she had spent most of that stay looking at the ink staining her hands from the fingerprints and going, "How? How?" over and over again.

"How do they even make ink like this? Do they, like, break pens and pour the stuff into cups? And how do they make that squishy stuff to hold the ink? The...the plush stuff?

"Why have I never thought of this stuff before?"

"And fingers. The lines. How do they get there? Look at the swirls. How?

"...Why is there ink on my fingers?"

It had been immeasurably deep until learning that a super-pissed off DA had gotten his car overturned by drunk teenagers and decided to crack down on youths that judges decided were wasting their life by getting wasted and needed a harsh life lesson. She'd been told all that by a blank-faced cop who led her to a phone and gave her five minutes to call her brother's cell phone over and over again to leave rude messages, after dismissing immediately the idea to call her adopted father, and having completely forgotten her biological parent's number.

She walked away with the memory of almost getting a prison tattoo of the numerals '18,' a court date, and miscellaneous paperwork that held one of those prison pictures of her holding up a white paper with numbers. Looking shell-shocked and innocent, confused, like the child she supposed she'd once been. Her blonde hair mussed-of particular interest were her eyes.

Her twin had the sense to avoid her, going into hiding and using their adopted brother Juurokugou as a middleman to pass messages on. For two weeks, neither hide nor hair of him had entered her world, and things had almost been peaceful. Except, of course, for the court date thing.

"It won't be so bad," the huge, mohawked sibling had told her.

"Is this coming from you, or my retarded brother?"

"Me. They won't throw the book too hard at you. Just dress nice and don't mess with your hair. At worse, they'll give you some community service."

He looked nothing at all like the professional lawyer she was having a feeling she should hire. But his flat voice was so reassuring. This was the guy she had turned to after terrible, shitty dates that made her question all her life decisions, and after breaking up with awful men that made her question life in general. The one who always had a calm word, and possessed all the common sense in the family.

Making a middle-of-the-night dinner to make her feel better after her most recent breakup, "You need to date a nice guy."

"I...do. That's my type. I don't go for obnoxious jackass losers. They're all nice. Shy. Quiet."

"Like a serial killer?"

She'd speared an asparagus tip with her fork."...crap.

"So what do I do? Go for unemployed losers? Drunk addicts like the types Juunanagou hangs around with? Guys who spent their nights getting drunk on cheap local beer, this is who I should date?"

Juurokugou had shrugged. "Do you want more hollandaise sauce?"

The sane, good brother who had told her she was being creepy, having this weird obsessive crush on the guy who worked at the shoe store a few blocks away, and worked out at the same gym she did and had this great stomach and huge arms. Who forced her to walk past the same store twice a day, peeking discreetly, not shyly, through the windows to see if he was working there. Who had once asked if she was done with an elliptical system and had immediately won her over with his tank top and shorts. Who had a great, huge smile and big cheerful eyes. Who had yet to say ten words to her. Who was married.

Juurokugou had sat her down at the big old scarred kitchen table, like an intervention. "It's been six months. You need to stop."

"B-but, I'm not doing anything wrong! Is it so wrong to like someone? To have feelings? Why is that so shameful? Aren't you all 'free love and peace'?"

"He's married and has shown no interest in you. Move on."

"But I see him twice a week! Besides, we go to the same gym!"

"Switch gyms. Or go at different times."

Totally unlike Juunanagou who told her, quote, 'just because there's a goalie, doesn't mean you can't score,' and who'd proceeded to give her a high-five that she'd returned. And had given her hope for another three months.

Juuhachigou thought on that, hiding beneath a dirty tire and a piece of filthy carpet her brother was carrying around for God-only-knew-why. Probably to roll a body in.

The judge had been a hardass. Even if she hadn't put any color in her hair and wore a nice, polite dress with a pathetic school transcript that spoke of good grades. He'd seen right through her, and could read all the smoky memories spent in her adopted father's basement with her brother, the acid trips at the movie theaters, the mushrooms eaten at the amusement parks and laser tag, the pills popped during high school history class, the late night manic calls to everyone she had ever known during that two-day speed trip where she'd cut half of her hair off and taken up sculpting and the week long crash after where she'd done nothing but roll around on the floor, stuffing suspicious lint up her nose in hope, and sobbing.

He couldn't, however, see her breakdown at a school field trip to a box factory where she'd totally freaked out in a bathroom stall after being unable to comprehend the complex idea of 'boxes inside boxes' that the factory manager had been going on about, and her vow home on the bus back to never touch drugs again. Not to so much as smell her brother's t-shirts and risk the residual high.

Hell, before that afternoon, she would have been able to pass a drug test no sweat. Now she would need another week or so, but there would be able opportunity since the mandate of her sentence was to talk to a parole officer, go to Al-Anon or NA for three months, take drug tests for six months, and three hundred hours of community service.

Hard. Ass.

Juurokugou told her to look on the bright side, maybe she could put this on her resume, somehow, under Volunteer work. Her other, biological brother had yet to show his hideous face that she personally marked for destruction.

"Maybe you'll meet a nice guy at one of these places?"

"Yeah. The office where my parole officer is at is just crawling with potential suitors."

"Silver lining."

"You need to work at your sarcasm. And besides, you're not allowed to date anyone for a year at the meetings. Or at least, it's recommended that you not do so.

"Juurokugou, they can't kick you out; I've tried. All they do is nod and Identify. I'm supposed to get a Sponsor.

"I'm not even a drug addict! And this isn't one of those denial things. I have no problem not taking drugs. I haven't touched any of that stuff in years."

"You did struggle a little, in high school-"

"He's the one on who-knows-what! I'm going to kill Juunanagou. Do you understand that? Tell him that. Tell him he's a dead man walking."

"Remember that time you almost sent the house on fire? I just think you could spend this time helping people, and taking order of your life."

"Tell him he better head south of the border if he wants a chance of survival."

And now he had saved her, in his own apathetic, uncaring way of just slowing down while she jumped in the back of his truck. But, as the wind blew through her hair and she was able to lift her head another foot, at least it was something.

He was still going to be tortured, and murdered. But she might put him out of his misery a little sooner than before. Maybe she might leave enough of his teeth for a partial dentist record check, not enough to confirm, but enough to give their parents a little peace of mind. Maybe it was him, and they would just have to accept the possibility of him being dead, but either way, we should give any inheritance we have onto Juuhachigou.

Up front, she could hear him playing one of her favorite CDs, so utterly unlike the usual stuff he liked. As though asking for forgiveness, in his own sad way.

She pounded on the window. "You think that's enough? Oh, no. I told Juurokugou to tell you to go down south. That's all the kindness you're getting from me."

Eventually, he stopped at a Denny's, the parking lot full of cars. The smell of pancakes and heavy sticky syrup made her feel nostalgic for a memory she couldn't remember at all. Of a home she'd never been in or belonged to and knew only from movies and decade old sitcom reruns. How she and her brother had sat in front of them, in their pajamas until their Gero came out of the basement he worked in, blinking in the early afternoon light and telling them to move away from the screen before they blinded themselves. Her brother her size and identical twin, except for his dark skin and hair, and how he'd get bored before her and end up running outside to create more bruises and cuts that she'd have to put peroxide on.

She settled for jumping on top of her brother, as he came out of the truck, arms outstretched as though he expected a hug. Juunanagou was immediately plastered to the ground, smacking the back of his head against a car's door, mewling, as she wrapped her hands around his skinny chicken throat.

"Juu—Juu! UGHeccchkkk."

"Bastard! Miserable bastard!"

"Juu! Cooooopppaagh."

"What? Oh. Crap. That's a cop.

"People are staring at us. Shit. Stupid Juunanagou."

"Uuuuugh. Uuuuh."

"Get up. Fine. Here."

After being pulled to his feet, he grabbed at his throat and attempted to breathe.

"Crap. Okay. That one cops still eating. A lot."

"Look at all those plates."

"Pig."

"Heh. But. Ughhg. That other one's coming out. Wow. He's tiny. Heheh. Your type. Uuugh. I taste blood."

"Hmm. Crap. He looks all serious. I can see this guy pulling out a gun."

"Hehehe. You'd like him to pull something else out."

"Shut up. Don't make perverted jokes in front of him."

"Hey. I don't know you. You're not my sister; you're a strange woman who jumped in the back of my truck and whom I had no idea until now existed."

"Shut up, Juunanagou. And I'll just say you kidnapped me. I'm certain there's a gun somewhere in this truck, and the bloodstains in the backseat don't help you at all."

"...damn. That's pretty good."

"Yeah. You even look like a serial killer in that scarf. No one sane would wear that color."

"But you're still wearing that shitty orange vest they gave you. You look like you should be at your community service. Because you should be."

"Goddamnit. It's your community service. I'm being punished because of something you did."

"Well, he's definitely coming over. But he's blushing a little at you. Wait. He's missing a nose."

"Huh. Hmmmm."

"Gross. Your face right now. Don't make that face in front of your brother. It's been awhile since you tried to flirt to get out of speeding tickets."

"Yeah, now that's what you do."

"Welp. You're going to need to do a lot more now."

"Shit. Shut up."

"Don't commit the crime if you can't do the time."

"I hate you. When I murder you, I'm definitely going to feed your body to some wild pigs."

"I think you're going to be too busy working to keep out of jail."

"Ew."

"Didn't mean like that. Gross. Gross."

"Hmmm...Maybe Juurokugou was right about some things."

"What? Um. Hi officer. This totally isn't my sister. And that vest, it's a fashion thing."

160. "Oh, fuck it; I'm going to have a party."

There would be a slip'n'slide. Goku all but demanded it.

And twister.

And pin the tail on the donkey.

Somehow, possibly because of Master Roshi's influence, at the low moments in their lives when nothing seemed to be going right, Chi-Chi kicked Goku out again without even his toothbrush so he was forced to use his finger to clean his teeth, and Krillin seemed to be repelling more women than usual, even his female friends were late returning his calls, they would look to the bright side and throw a party.

It was a revenge type party. You beat me up, you didn't call me after our date, you made me sleep on the couch, you ignored me, you were cruel to me and my friends. But now, now I will dance like a drunken epileptic before a thousand disco balls. Not entirely a conscious gesture, but deep down the two men knew that there was always a hint of 'take that' to the evening plans.

At first, they hadn't invited the person who pissed them off. So they could imagine that person on the phone going, 'oh they're having a party, again…I didn't get an invitation…oh. Guess I shouldn't have shoved him into that locker.'

But when Vegeta showed up time and time again to ransack the buffet, Krillin and Goku gave up.

Instead, they would have fun and show off before that other person.

During one of those moments, when he and Goku were doing their awesome, mindblowing dance routines that made people drop object in awe and gasp and then look away from the amazingness of it, that he met two people that he definitely hadn't invited. For one, they looked like the snooty kids that went to the super liberal arts high school where people were allowed to wear gold with white without fear of being harassed for being in a gang. Krillin and Goku had little contact with such people.

Then again, the big guy could make friends with just about everyone.

When Chi-Chi-, red-faced and unable to look anyone in the eye, tore Goku off the dance floor to hide him for awhile in the corner, Krillin finally decided to go talk to them. All these alarms were going off in his head, making the hairs on his arm stick up and he tried discreetly to check them out. Long-haired, one dark and the other light, super cute looking, girls, twin sister, one was definitely more stacked than the other who was pretty, still, and Krillin preferred brunettes so maybe he should talk to that one? He crept closer, trying not to look conspicuous, trying not to look creepy, trying not to trip over his feet.

It was pretty dark in here, but for the strobe light they'd managed to string up and the holiday lights stapled to the ceiling. The music made talking pretty difficult too. Was that a tactical advantage when approaching a girl?

Closer and closer, no tripping, good so far, and the blonde one was definitely prettier, cuter, sweeter…because oh god, that dark-haired one was a guy. Stupid, stupid. Krillin nearly slapped his forehead, and wanted to creep away. What were they doing here? Goku should have warned him that he had invited a pair of twins, a little word to Krillin before he nearly hit on the dude one, but it had no doubt slipped his mind.

And now they were looking over at him, giggling and whispering, and the blonde one was definitely cuter, even if she was smirking rather evilly. Still better than what her maybe date was doing, which was motioning for Krillin to come closer.

161. Laundry Day

Juuhachigou awoke with a jerking gesture, reaching out with one pale knife of a hand, to stab at him and slap his side. Until he fell to the floor, screaming. Then she snapped fully awake, swallowing, staring at him with a wide mouth. He cowered, not unaware of how easily kicks could turn his trembling form to a broken bag of bones. This was exactly what everyone had warned him of, when he begged and pleaded and bribed to come live here and escape the tyranny of her brother's apartment that he kept well-cleaned and paid for through means not entirely understood.

"Krillin?"

"What the hell!"

He'd tried to be so nice to her, too. Making all the meals, cleaning, trying and failing to bring her food in bed, doing his best not to follow her around or be too underfoot. The chocolates on her pillows, had that been too much?

"I'm sorry." She fell more than slid off the washer, landing besides him. Pulled him up with alarmingly quick and warm hands, dusting him off even. Inspecting him for wounds. Most people, they didn't do that for him. Especially if they'd been the one to cause those wounds. Those blue eyes seemed so caring, if darting around nervously.

Krillin let the attack go. He had a stupid urge to grab her hands and pull them close to his chest, like a protagonist in one of his Master's sad girly movies. "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing. I'm…doing laundry."

His mind went to, lie? fear of electric damage? unfamiliarity with washers and dryers? before he understood.

"Oolong? Master Roshi?"

Juuhachigou was scanning the hallways, and barely had the time to nod at him before inspecting everything around her closely. Looking behind the machines even. "Bulma and Chi-Chi have told me stories about those two."

"Oh."

"I'll kill them obviously, if they try anything. But I don't even want them to get anywhere near trying anything."

"You're really freaked out about this, huh?"

There was a pink tinge to her face that made Krillin go all weak and sappy inside. "I don't want my clothes touched by those two. I—well, I have to sleep with furniture piled up by the door. What little sleep I do get."

"Aw, hey, that's not necessary. I told them to leave you alone—"

"That's not really good enough."

"—and what you did to Vegeta and Trunks. They won't mess with you."

She was thinking about it, sucking in breathe and hollowing her cheeks briefly. Looking as grim as a soldier surveying the territory she was to march on. "I don't even want to take that chance."

"Well, I'll look out for them too. Those two can't get passed us." He hopped up on the dryer, ignoring the bruised ribs. His legs swung, and he almost wished he hadn't jumped up here and emphasized his shortness. But Juuhachigou was warily sliding on the washer, her clothes shaking the machine beneath her, and making him suddenly notice…things. Things moving. Just a little tiny bit, but enough to notice and spend just hours watching.

Krillin tore his eyes away before she tore them out of his head.

"Thanks. I guess."

"Oh, no problem. It must suck to be a girl out here. With everyone perving on you."

"Not you. I guess."

"Oh, no, definitely not me." He did a cross gesture over his heart. "Definitely not me."

Sitting down made it easier to ignore differences in height. She was taller, but it was all leg. Which sent more thoughts and images ricocheting around his head. Then she was shifting, tucking a leg beneath the other, the left under the right, leaning forward all bored, resting her head on a palm that's arms was on a knee. All fascinating. When she was drifting through whatever thoughts went through such an interesting head, she had a tendency to pout. Less than a foot from him.

"SO!"

She jumped a little.

"Sorry. Sorry. But you added detergent and soap? Do you need laundry sheets?"

Juuhachigou was looking at him in that way, that distant but not tired look. "No."

"Oh. Good. That's good. I was afraid we were running low. And I would have to run to the store. And that would be a pain, since I just went and bought stuff.

"To go all back there, just for those…"

The android let him ramble, not a single iota of interest or emotion about his shopping habits, until a buzzer went off and made him jump a foot in the air and bash his head on the shelves overhead. Coolly, now all calm and graceful, Juuhachigou hopped off the washer, opening the top while he flung himself off the dryer and tried not to fall on his face. He was supposed to be one of the strongest fighters on the planet, top ten at least, and he couldn't even jump two feet off the air in front of her without almost killing himself. This was probably how the other Future Krillin had died, of his own hands, in front of the evil Future Juuhachigou. Though it wasn't easy at all to imagine her as some homicidal maniac while she went looking for dryer sheets.

"Here, you get those, I'll get the clothes."

She barely nodded.

Krillin gathered the wet clothes in a ball, holding them close to his chest, trying to be gentle. Holding them with as much care as he did little Goten. Then his eyes fell to take in exactly what he was clutching.

Both their eyes stared at the clothes. He wanted more than anything to just put the damp clothes away and act like nothing was wrong. Go on about daily business. No, he totally hadn't seen these at all let alone handled them, no, of course not, just putting clothes away to dry. But something like twenty seconds had passed, and there was no saving face. Yep, there was a jumble of clothes touching him, as in touching his skin, and aside from safe stuff like shirts and jeans, there was her…underclothes. And he was still holding them as another second and another passed and another

Any comfortable air between them turned tensed. Juuhachigou was looking him that same look she had when they were at Kami's Lookout and she was looking at him and admitting that she wasn't super pissed at him after all for him trying so hard to help her. Which was just bizarre, at this moment. Since she should totally be pissed.

He would if…okay, maybe not pissed. But weirded out. Although now his brain was clogging itself with images of Juuhachigou wearing his undershirts and boxers, (maybe the blue ones, or the white ones, or even the stupid bright green ones with the dragon emblazoned on the front and maybe one of his tank tops or a plain white shirt) which hopefully, was something that she wasn't also thinking. That is, him in her underclothes. But it was hard to tell.

"So. Are there any dryer sheets?"

162. Coercion

She towered over him, even more so from his angle. For the briefest second, Krillin had an image of her in the outfit she'd worn when they met, her in that short skirt and ripped leggings now, and his new vantage point.

"You should have used that remote."

Her booted foot pressed into his aching chest, making him cough. His eyes closed as her shadow fell over him. There were worst ways to go, or to simply be beaten, than by Juuhachigou. This way though, if anyone found out, they would hunt her and her brother down. The toe of her shoe nudged him firmly.

"You owe me."

Which finally made his eyes slide open. "What?"

"You owe me."

Her toe pressed into his again. "How do you figure that?"

"I could have killed you several times over. Not just now, but when we met, and when I saw you again, on that island. And you owe me for deciding to be some stupid love struck-"

Krillin's face twitched.

"-Hero that expected me to act like a foolish girl that would fall to your feet."

"I didn't expect that," his lips still felt swollen from her earlier punch. "I just didn't want to harm you. At the time, I thought you were involved with your twin, actually."

Juuhachigou looked disgusted, even from his dim view of her face. "I should definitely hurt you for that one."

"You haven't hit me enough?" Which was stupid, since no one had ever tired of hurting Krillin so far.

"Just get up."

But her hands grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him up before he could move. He blinked, blurrily at her face, wiping blood from his face with one hand. She had landed on this tiny speck of island, and immediately, one two three four, landed punches onto his face and chest. As soon as the short man had fallen to his knees, stunned, she landed a good kick to his stomach and sent him flying into the sand. Now Juuhachigou was picking him up and even dusting him off.

He saw blonde hair that was a well shined gold in the sun, then she was pressing into him, even more intimate then their first kiss, or when he'd picked her up, and even more than when Cell had blasted her briefly into him. There was blood in his mouth, and when her wet tongue flickered to touch his, Krillin bet she could taste it as well.

Juuhachigou touched his shoulders, pushing him away. She seemed disappointed, a blow to his pride that was already torn and barely lingering. A spot of blood was on her lips, and when she licked it away distracted, Krillin shuddered with something that was stronger than mere lust. "Maybe we'll try again later."

"Try what?"

A slim eyebrow rose. "You paying me back."

163. Fireflies

Marron squirmed in his arms, looking up at him with large, sure eyes. She'd rarely left the island, but held his hand instead of hiding behind him as they entered the park. Which made him smile, thinking that she might look more like him, but seemed to definitely be her mother's daughter.

And just like that, the tired smile died from his face. Juuhachigou was still at home, bouncing between sadness and cold indifference. No matter how much Krillin told her it wasn't her fault and nothing could be done, they'd had the best doctors in the world, and it wasn't her fault, Juuhachigou still blamed herself for the loss of the second child.

Dusk lit dull streaks of fire in her eyes. But she still wasn't tired, so Krillin continued to hold her hand instead of picking her up to finally go home. She looked so much younger compared to the other children they passed in the darkening park. A lump grew in Krillin's throat, and he couldn't cry in front of his daughter, who had asked so innocently when the new baby was coming home.

"Daddy," she tugged at his pants, her voice still struggling with the guttural baby noises she used to speak in. "What are those?"

"Krillin, I can't do this again," Her hair hanging into her face, shoulders sung with defeat no matter what he would say. "Not again."

"Those, well, those are fireflies."

Marron gazed up at them, "Can you get one?"

"I don't know, baby. I don't have anything to catch it in."

"They sure are bright aren't they?"

"Like mommy's hair."

Their second child, a boy, had the softest layer of blonde hair as well. He had fit in Krillin's arms perfectly. Even smaller than Marron had been, a tiny bump of a nose, dark blue eyes that his mother might have originally born with, ones that might have shifted to as black as his sister's and father's. He could have had anything, could have been anything. "Right. And yours too."

She was still mesmerized by the bright bugs that danced over head. They stood there, watching the fireflies, her leaning into her father as her eyes grew heavy, and Krillin scooped her up. She weighed virtually nothing, and it was the sweetest weight he'd ever felt in his arms besides Juuhachigou.

Just as he was sure she was asleep, her eyes fluttered open. "Can we go home? To mommy?"

Her hands were white balls on her knees, her skin so devoid of color against the white walls and her white hospital clothes. "I can't take losing another child again."

"Sure, firefly," a tired smile on her round pale face before Marron yawned, "Let's go home."

164. It was like that when I/we got here.

Krillin's wizened master stared at them both with huge, bulging eyes that made his sunglasses nearly tumble off his face. "W-what happened?"

They shrugged simultaneously. "What?"

"This!" He pointed his walking stick at the living room, at the broken table, the torn couch, the wrecked kitchen with food spilling out, the shattered lamps and windows, the burned porn. The stained ceiling, the knocked over television, and stereo that lay now on the floor, torn clothing, shattered desk and the phone in three large white pieces. A ruined laundry basked stared up at them, balefully.

The two shrugged again, their gestures the same even though they looked exactly the opposite.

"Didn't notice."

"It was like this when I came downstairs."

165. The things you never wanted to know

Finally, he worked up the courage to ask her the thing that had haunted him. She looked up at him with narrowed eyes whose blue shade he sometimes was sure that she hadn't been born with. Sometimes, he wondered if she'd even been born, or if…For a second, Krillin thought that she was going to take a chopstick and jam it into his eyes.

"Yes," her voice grated out, "I was a human, you idiot. A normal human."

"Oh."

"Now pass the soy sauce and stop asking dumb questions."

166. What do you think we should do with it?

Juunanagou poked Krillin with a stick. The human didn't awaken; he just snored a little louder, right there, on their porch. As though he were a puppy waiting for his master to return. He must have been out here all night, though for what she had no idea.

Why would he just lay here? Why had he not knocked?

They looked at him, as though his bruised eyed face would tell them what to do.

"Do you want to shove mud down his pants?"

Juuhachigou shrugged. "Okay."

167. I keep making the same mistake.

It took him a moment to realize what she was furiously, wordlessly shoving under his face was not a thermometer. The book he'd been reading peacefully before his wife entered the room fell from numb fingers

"Oh my god!"

"Yeah!"

"Oh god."

"Yes."

"How—"

"You tell me how."

"Well…"

"Not that, you moron." Her lips were pale with rage.

"I don't know! I thought you were—that one time we didn't. But. The stuff-"

"So did I. I guess that one time was enough. Somehow. I don't know why they didn't work by themselves."

"Maybe this is a mistake? A false positive?"

"This is the third one I've taken. The clerk kept looking at me, like she was asking me if I thought that the third time was the charm and maybe this time I wouldn't be pregnant. God, that was humiliating. And that's just the start."

"This is a good thing though. It is. It really, really is." He grinned a little, shoving the book from his lap. "We can start that family we've been trying to have."

"Shut up."

"Not like we're not already married."

"Can't believe I let you impregnate me. Twice."

"Mom?" Marron peeked her bright head through the doorway. "Dad?"

They jumped like spooked kids. Exchanged looks that asked one another whether or not to tell her what was wrong. Krillin stared at his wife, eyebrows raised. Juuhachigou shrugged.

"Say, Marron. You always wanted a little brother or sister, right?"

"Yeah, when I was three." She laughed, as though dismissing the youthful mistake. "Watching Bra and Trunks though—Wait. Why are you asking me this?

"Mom? Dad? Why are you asking me this?"

There was actually disappointment on her face, as though she'd expected better of her parents.

"How—No. No! Don't you answer that. Jeez, how could you two be so irresponsible?

"Where are you going to raise this baby? In the attic? There's no room for it anywhere. Nothing's baby proofed. You have no supplies to take care of it."

"Managed to raise you alright. And we had less of a clue what we were doing then."

"That's just great. Come on. You can't have a kid. At your age—"

"Hey."

"Well. I'm not going to share a room with them. Do you understand?"

"Fine. No room-sharing."

"Good luck with that kid." She waved, almost venomously at her mother's stomach. "And good luck to you too. Hope they don't let Vegeta babysit you too. I still have nightmares!"

Juuhachigou rubbed her forehead. "One time. You were eight! Let it go."

Marron stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut.

"I suppose this is our chance to make up any mistakes we made with the first."

"Hey. She just has an only-child syndrome."

"I really wish we'd had this kid years ago."

"Years and years."

"Don't rub it in." She touched her stomach, still un-swollen. "Did we keep anything from when Marron was a baby?"

"Just some clothes, for sentimental reasons."

"Oh, great."

"It'll be okay." He jumped her, nearly knocking her over for the third time in their entire relationship, including sparring. The embrace all warm and frantic.

"You feel alright? And how about you, little baby?" Krillin shoved his face into her stomach. "You doing okay in there? Tap twice for yes."

She stroked his hair absently. "And so it begins."

"It's okay if you don't have a nose either. Don't worry about it."

The following day, Krillin had officially lost his mind and gone full into Father Mode. He refused to let her out of the bed, bringing her breakfast, before recalling some fragment of memory and dragging her outside and saying that a walk and fresh air would help the baby. Only, just wait, let him put some sunscreen on her stomach. And her nose.

"Get off me!"

"Hope this one gets your nose from the get go."

Marron just glared at them from her window, shaking her head at the sight of them arguing on the sand. The others living on the island had been just as shocked as her. But moderately happier after getting their vow not to have to babysit and change diapers.

"Way to go, Krillin!"

"Didn't know you still had it in you, boy."

"Knock it off. And stop touching my stomach, Krillin."

"Can't wait to tell everyone."

"Hang on. Sit down. Sit down. Give it a few months. It's possible this baby won't keep."

"Awww. Don't say stuff like that."

"I'm not saying that I'm going to 'fall' down the stairs—"

Oolong and the hermit shook their heads. "Wow."

"And people say you don't have a sense of humor."

"Did I say something to you two perverts?

"I just mean that I'd prefer to go to the doctor and know for certain before planning a baby shower. Ugh. A baby shower. That was bad enough to go through the first time. And now my daughter's old enough to throw me one." The very idea seemed to freeze some of the muscles in her face.

"I wouldn't plan on that," Krillin glanced up towards the windows, at his first child's angry face.

"She'll come around," the hermit advised. "Just give her time."

"I can't believe I have to go through this all over again. Changing diapers. The crying at two in the morning. The vomiting."

"The cute outfits." Krillin reminisced. "How happy they are to see you. The way they grab your fingers and hang on."

Juuhachigou rubbed at her temples. "Being screamed at because we're out of grape popsicles their father ate. First day of school. The bleeding knees and yelling."

"Learning to walk. And talk."

"The endless chattering of a two-year-old."

"Oh god. Becoming a teenager."

"You see, Krillin. This is really all your fault."

"Heheh. Is it? Why don't you tell us all the details…?"

"Shut up."

"But it won't be so bad. There are good things about having a kid."

"All I can recall is the bad."

"The way they follow you around. The innocent smiles. How they think the world revolves around you."

"The terrible children's shows they insist on watching. Having to read those asinine books to them so they'll go to sleep and allow you to get five minutes of rest. Before screaming that they need a glass of water. And then changing the bed after they wet it."

"I thought you liked being a mother Juuhachigou?"

"Not the mother of an infant now."

"It'll be okay. It always is. Say, maybe Bulma and Vegeta have some baby stuff to give us?"

"I remember mocking them," her voice was distant and clinical. "When they had Bra. Asking them what the hell was going on through their minds at raising another child. Now Bra is old enough to babysit this kid."

"Look at it this way: we're much wiser now."

"I don't feel quite wise at the moment."

"Isn't it funny how a piece of broken rubber can result in so much carnage?" Master Roshi sounded amused.

"Shut up, you disgusting-Krillin, go make an appointment with a doctor. I guess I need to talk to Bulma, see if she can't help me with this thing. Again."

Of course, the blue-haired scientist was all ears and maniacal laughter when Juuhachigou finally managed to call up. "How did you two even manage that? Well. I guess now we fully appreciate the whole never-aging thing. For once, I'm not so envious. I mean, Vegeta and I could still have one, but it would probably take more work than usual.

"Yeah, sure, come on down. Can't wait to tell everyone!

"Don't be so gloomy, Juuhachigou. There's no way this kid's going to take off and make things easier on your life. Besides, aren't you kind of happy? New kid, new life.

"Okay. New stretch marks. Fair enough."

"So I can come over and have you inspect the damage? Make sure this isn't a hysterical pregnancy?"

"You don't sound happy enough for something like that. More like a melancholy pregnancy. But sure, I'll get some doctors over here. Tell Chi-Chi to come over for some margaritas you can't drink."

"Don't tell anyone! Do you hear me?"

"Does anyone else over there know? Did you tell Marron?"

"She was the first to know. Besides Krillin."

"How's she taking it?"

"Well. I'll tell you when she starts talking to me in something besides accusations."

"Trunks flat-out cried when I told him about Bra. And Gohan was bipolar when Goten came along. Was happy one second, then super depressed and pretending there was no baby the next. Refused to even look at her stomach."

"Kids, huh?"

Bulma laughed. "Yeah. Can't live with them, can't give them up for adoption after waiting too long. Hoping for a boy or girl?"

"I can't say so far."

"After raising a boy and girl, well…"

"Either one is bad?"

"Like choosing between being shot in the back of the head, or the front."

"So, which one?"

"Mmm. I guess…well, Bra never took up fighting, so I never had to worry about her dying that way. Or less, anyway. With her, I worry about leaving a hair dryer on and having the house catch on fire.

"Although, once or twice she punched a wall hard enough to make the entire house shake. People thought an earthquake had hit.

"And Vegeta never even punishes her. Just gives her money from my purse because she hugs him. When she was little, he would carry her everywhere just because she asked. He still doesn't do that for me. To say nothing of the gallons of ice cream he'd give her. And all the violent TV they'd watch together."

"But Trunks was worse?"

"…I honestly don't know anymore."

"Gohan seems to be okay, though. Maybe a boy wouldn't be so bad this time?"

"Just make sure this one doesn't fight."

"I'll try my best."

"Wow. I just realized your kid's going to be raised solo. Without any other kids to play with since Pan's growing up."

"I can't tell if that's good or bad. Fewer kids to play with. But no one to pressure them into learning to jump off the roof to learn to fly."

"I'm still sorry Trunks did that.

"It's alright; her leg was healed by Dende."

"Still. You know who was a good kid?"

"Who?"

"Future Trunks."

"Alright. As soon as this kid's born, I'll send him to some post-apocalyptic future. Then when he comes back after a couple of years, he'll be fine."

"If I could do it all over again, that's what I'd do."

Over seven and a half months later, the dry-sobbing, white-faced cyborg held the child that had refused to come out for so long while her family slowly crept back into the room. They looked at emotionally beaten as her, blinking blurrily, and trying to understand that it was finally over. All of them were tired enough to sleep standing.

"Mom?"

"Juu?"

"Sis?"

"It didn't get easier the second time," she told Krillin, face waxy and betrayed, the whites of her eyes red.

"I know. I know, honey."

"But he's here. Finally. And it's a boy. I don't know how to feel about that. Someone take him."

"Permanently?" Juunanagou asked. "Because I've been looking for a new shooting partner."

Marron sighed and took the baby from her mother, holding it a little away from her uncle.

"What, I wasn't serious. Look at his hands. He can't hold a gun.

"Seriously. Look at his tiny hands. Wow. Can't believe this is how humans start off."

"You have to support his head, firefly."

His daughter adjusted her baby brother. "Oh, you sure I'm still 'firefly.' Shouldn't that be his name?"

"You'll always be my firefly. Even if your mother and I have a dozen kids. Be careful not to drop him.

"And besides, he has dark hair."

"Yeah. He looks like you, Krillin. Poor baby."

"Shut up, Juunana. Hey, there little guy. Nice to finally meet you. Look at that squished face."

"He's wiggling."

"I think he wants to go back to his Mommy."

The three turned to look at Juuhachigou, and found her passed out, unmoving. Of particularly apathy were her arms.

"Maybe I'll just put him in his little bin here."

Tenderly, he placed his second child and first son into his sleeping space at the foot of the bed. Touched the silky hair on his misshaped skull, running his fingers over the softest black silk. He was reminded strongly of when Marron had been born, and still had trouble wrapping his mind around the fact that this little person was his.

He was fussing, kicking and punching out, and looking a little too big for a newborn. Mouth a downward curve of unhappiness, wondering where the hell he was now and why he didn't have any tube on his stomach feeding him. His eyes were dark as Krillin's, barely open, and maybe it was just this view or the way he glared, but they looked angled, like his mother's. With the most perfect little bump of a nose beneath them.

"You really like your Mom, huh? Had a hard time separating you two," Krillin told his son. "But it's okay. She'll forgive you.

"And you two have an entire future together. You can spend the rest of your life following her. Like Gohan.

"She loves you a whole bunch. Already. You can tell, from the moment we saw you using one of Bulma's fancy machines. And when you kicked. Even when you kept kicking and wouldn't stop. She just loves you to death. Once she cried in the middle of a store over how much she adores you, in front of strangers and everything. Just sobbing and sitting on a case of diapers. Loves you to pieces."

The baby, blindly, reached out to wrap his tiny hand around one of his father's fingers. It shattered his insides better than Freiza's horn had done, splitting his chest apart like a round of gunfire that Juunanagou liked to let off when he would go hunting.

"And maybe I do too."

"Krillin, hey, you're stupid friends are here. Even the troll is in the waiting room."

"Okay. Okay."

"Come on. You can leave the kid for five minutes. Don't make me have to do small talk with these people."

"Yeah, sure."

But he couldn't leave his son.

"So, um, how have you been? Still single? Working out lately? It looks like it. I don't know why I'm saying these things. That wasn't a come on. I swear."

"…nice to see you too Juunanagou. Where's Krillin?"

"Right there, Yamcha."

"Heeey, man." The taller fighter had a handful of balloons, pink and blue. Krillin could barely look away from the baby.

"It's a boy?"

"Guess I could give the pink ones to Marron…Or Juunanagou."

"I heard that!"

"Aww. Look how tiny he is. Is he strong? Can you tell from having him hang on you like that?"

"Yeah."

"Juuhachigou's still out."

"Yep. This one went worse than Marron."

"Hopefully not a sign of things to come."

"Yeah."

"So everyone's here. Can they come in? I think Chi-Chi's about to fight one of the doctor's to get in."

"Oh, sure."

Everyone ended up holding the baby. Even Vegeta got a turn, making a disgusting face back down at the infant who barely blinked up at him. The infant seemed to be a drunken man being shuffled from paramedic to paramedic. When he was slid back into his mother's arms, he didn't seem to recognize her. Nor she him.

They looked at each other with something beyond basic tiredness. Instead there was wariness in their half-blind eyes. Krillin struggled to remember her looking at Marron like this, when their daughter had been a baby at least. He was fairly sure that they'd waited until she could talk before looking at one another, saying wordlessly, 'yeah, we're stuck together.' Black eyes squinting back at the narrowed icy blue gaze. Taking each other in, as mother and child did.

With Marron, she'd mostly just sobbed when holding her, terrified. "I'm going to drop her or squeeze her or just break her somehow." The pain medication had made her more paranoid than ever of her mothering abilities. Every five minutes she'd hit the button for a nurse, asking if she needed to be fed now, oh god she wasn't eating did she need a bottle and formula, did she need to be changed, was it okay to wrap her in this blanket, was it normal for her to be sleeping this much?

He personally was still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that the little dark-haired boy was his own. Sometimes he'd wake up still shocked that the drooling beautiful woman with the mussed blonde hair besides him was his wife, and that the screaming teenage girl yelling at Master Roshi was his daughter. Now he had a son, someone else who would look up to him and call him Daddy and inevitably ask where his nose was and what was up with Uncle Juunana and how come Master Roshi kept looking at pictures of naked people?

Juuhachigou was looking the boy over carefully, clinically. "I think he's hungry. You all need to leave."

"Why?"

Chi-Chi dragged Goku away first, still cooing over the infant from a distance and the rest of the room followed them. Marron had to be led out by Goten, reeling from exhaustion.

Expertly, his wife held their son to her chest and fussed with her dressing gown. "So when can we leave?"

"Um. Pretty soon. Why?"

"I'd like to put on normal clothes. I'd like to try and live a normal life again, for that matter."

"Since when did we ever have that?"

"By comparison. And stop staring."

"So, what are we going to name this little guy?"

The two had bounced names back and forth, ranging from 'Marro' to 'Kuri' and 'Krillin Junior' and 'Hachi' and even, growing desperate, 'Nana' and once, very tired, 'Roshi.'

"Let's just name him after the turtle."

"What about...after Goku? Go-something?"

"What? No."

"Gokur? Goachi?"

"Gofuckyourself." Then Juuhachigou gave an unexpected bark of laughter, and patted her struggling son's head. "That one wasn't bad."

"Is he eating?"

"He's trying. Yeah. He's not really getting it." Juuhachigou looked down at her baby. "God, I'm so bad at this."

"Want me to get the nurse?"

"No, just give him a chance. Come on, come on. You can do it." Her voice was turning sweet and loving, and her eyes unfocusing on everything but the boy. Soon she would begin to hum at him, and they would be inseparable. Then the muffled crying would begin as she tried to control herself and failed. Krillin would attempt to step in, and be snapped verbally and physically at as she desperately clung to the infant. And shortly after that, she would be handing the baby to her husband so she could finally pass out.

"I don't think he's getting it."

"It can take awhile."

"I'm already looking forward to the moment when I won't have to do this. And, I'm looking forward to taking you home. We made your sister move to the attic, and repainted the room. We got a crib. And a nice one. Brand new. This one is safer than the one we got for Marron; you'll have a harder time getting your head stuck between the bars.

"God, Krillin, he looks like you."

"Aw, is that bad?"

"No, but jeez. That hair."

"I think he actually looks a little like Juunanagou. The dark hair, your nose, and the shape of his eyes. I bet he has your forehead and chin."

"I'm going to have nightmares now. I actually hope he has your voice. Otherwise, I think it'll be too much. I'll have to put him in a basket and set him adrift a river."

"Aw, he's too cute for that. Look at him."

"Krillin. You're making that face again. And your voice is getting really high."

"Can't help it.

"Hey there baby. The doctor's are going to look you and your Mommy over a little more, to check that you're both healthy, and then we're going home.

"You're going to like it there." Krillin smiled at the back of his son's misshapen head. "I can tell."

By the time they finally got their son home, everyone was sore and exhausted, and the baby wouldn't stop crying. He would lie in their arms, and weep. He would be placed in his bassinet, and sob. He would find himself locked into the baby seat by a million straps, and cry with the misery of the damned.

"Mom?"

"...what?"

"Are you sure he's okay? Like, mentally."

"Don't joke about that, Marron."

She stared nervously at the leaking baby besides her. "I'm not."

"He's just tired. And nervous. This is all very new to him."

"Seriously. Was he checked out for everything?"

"Yes," Krillin answered.

"Everything?"

"Well, some things can only be found when they get older."

"Don't encourage this, Krillin! He's fine. Perfectly healthy. And use his name."

"He looks like he's having a heart attack."

"Marron."

"Fine. Shorin...His face is seriously purple."

"Yeah," her father glanced towards the backseat. "That's normal. Yours was even worse."

"...Really? Wow."

"We're here."

Despite how hard it was to get Shorin out of the car seat, his wife was the last to leave her seat. She moved slowly, needing to lean against Krillin, and reportedly tried to 'brace herself for coming back.'

But their housemates were being nice, hanging banners and having cooked lunch. His old Master actually appeared to have to wipe tears from his face discreetly when studying the baby. Oolong danged keys in front of Shorin to distract him from whatever was ailing the infant, to no avail.

Juuhachigou handed the child over easily. "I'm going upstairs for a nap. None of you kill the baby." Then she stumbled upstairs.

"Hey, there baby. Just me now, your father. Your proud Papa. Look at yooouuu. Aw, and you're not crying anymore! Aren't you being good for your Daddy?

"We've got everything all set up. Toys. Everywhere. Diapers in huge, enormous piles. You can go crazy in that regard.

"The amount of bottles would scare you, and we even bought formula if you keep having trouble in that regard. So you can definitely go crazy using up diapers.

"Can't wait to see you in the outfits we got you. Seriously. You in that miniature gi? Get out of town. And that cowboy outfit Juunanagou sent over: it was made for you. It even comes with tiny spurs and a hat. Chi-Chi literally made a huge amount of clothes for you. The hats, the tiny shoes...We're going to take so many pictures of you, to embarrass you with later.

"Are you smiling? For me?"

The first thing his son did was reach up and yank half his facial hair away. And he was indeed smiling, while his father fell backwards, grabbing at his face with a wince. It had been some time since he'd felt such physical pain, besides Juuhachigou grabbing his hand during the more painful cramps. Both of which had been caused by this tiny child right here.

"Wow. He's already getting pretty strong."

"And getting his own sense of taste."

The short retired fighter tried rubbing at the top above his mouth. "Yeah. Just like his mother."

"Look. He's giggling. How cute."

"Adorable laugh, already. Aww, that toothless grin."

"I've never seen Shorin so happy."

"Real chip off the old block. You know, his mother's."

"He really likes it here, Dad."

"Quick, go get the camera."

168. Meeting the Family

After she finished dry heaving into the flower beds, Krillin wrapped his sports jacket around her shoulders. Juuhachigou shivered, and even in the dim yellow light yards ahead, the short man could make out a grey tinge on her skin. Her eyes looked dilated and watery.

They weren't even at her front door yet.

"I'm sure your family isn't that bad."

For the hundredth time, Juuhachigou repeated her mantra. "You don't know them."

"But I will after tonight."

"Yes," her tone was grim. "You will."

And then she shoved him into the building. Futuristically designed, the glass and grey stone was cold against his back. He couldn't imagine a place further from his own home, and comparing the two was like comparing him and Juuhachigou. Again, he couldn't believe a girl like her, not just in looks and attitude but one that lived in such a place had given him a second look. "Krillin, I just want you to promise one thing."

"Sure, Juuhachigou." When he pressed his hand into her forehead, he noticed that she seemed to have a temperature.

The blonde girl cupped his hand in hers, looking deep into his eyes. Rarely did she do this; only when he'd said or done something incredibly stupid, or when he'd first revealed the extent of his feelings. It didn't bode well to see her so serious, even as she stroked his fingers. "I just want you to promise that you won't hold tonight against me."

"Against you?"

"Yes. Just understand that they didn't affect me too badly. I am not one of them."

The dark circles under her eyes seemed to be growing. "Alright, Juuhachigou."

Almost tenderly, she took off his jacket and wrapped it around his shoulders again. "Your tie looks so stupid." But she kissed him, and took any venom out of her words.

He had to knock at the door. And then wait, and knock again. Finally, Juuhachigou took out a key and opened it for them.

"Typical," she muttered.

Inside, it was sterile, and simultaneously cluttered. He immediately felt claustrophobic, pushing aside radios and mysterious metal parts, and part of a car. In the center of it all, there was a huge computer, flashing rainbow lights, with several screens pointing in every direction, and a giant domed aquarium at the top. The walls were down in metallic wallpaper, and the floor was poured cement that felt slippery under his trainers. It was a bomb shelter/mansion.

Juuhachigou whispered encouragements. "Just ignore whatever they say. It's all lies. And I hate all of them, so who cares if they don't like you. Watch out for the TV's."

"What TV-" His knee was nearly shattered when he knocked into the Magnavox.

When they reached the dining room, him hobbling, everyone was there. For a brief moment, it seemed like an entire football team had gathered into the room. But that was dumb, since as far as he knew, the school no longer allowed Juunanagou to play sports. And no way would that little guy, who was already drinking from a flask, be allowed near the field.

Most of them looked like they couldn't even come within fifty yards of a school. Especially the one with the mullet.

"Did you bring any wine?" The short, purple-skinned man asked. Krillin had to take a second to fully digest his appearance. A lot of orange. That hat. That bowtie.

"No, sir. I'm not old enough to drink."

"Then what good are you?" He turned back to the table to his dirty plate, shaking his head at a large grey-skinned stranger.

"Did you all eat without us?"

"You should have come sooner." A mulleted man eyed them from underneath his dirty trucker hat. "Were ya'all too busy messing around in that car to come inside?"

"We were not making out in the car," Juuhachigou snarled, grabbing Krillin by the elbow of his sports coat and dragging him to the kitchen.

The silver-haired man held up gloved hands in defense as they left in search of sustenance. "I never said anything about making out. But that's awful specific of you now Juuhachi!"

"Just don't wake Cell in the basement," someone yelled. "We just managed to put him down."

Juuhachigou slammed a plate onto the counter. "Damn them."

The food was as varied and eclectic as her family. He found a taco that looked safe enough, part of a Caesar salad and some steamed salmon to fill his plate. Juuhachigou threw pickled beets around to stain the clean walls, and settled for some sushi to pick at and glower at her family over. Purposely, she overturned the pork fried rice, making Krillin want to weep.

As soon as they sat down, the group erupted into a new discussion, abandoning their topic of the state of their Dr. Gero's company, Red Ribbon, to what the worst way to die was. "I think being torn to pieces would be bad."

"Being eaten," Juunanagou added, his own mouth full of venison.

"Having your head cut off."

"Coma."

"Exploding."

A squeaky voice sounded behind them. "Was this the boy that made you get banned from that arcade, Juuhachigou?"

Krillin jumped, and then jumped again once he saw who was talking. He was very large, pale as Chaoizu, though his eyes were the same pale blue as Juuhachigou's. It didn't bring much relief when she flipped the overweight young (old?) man off. "Oh, shut up, Juukugou."

"So you two are sleeping together?"

Juunanagou began to gag, and without warning, reached over to Krillin armed with a butter knife. Juuhachigou swatted his arm away. "Knock it off."

"Is that a no?"

"Juuichigou!" Someone snapped at someone else, none of whom Krillin could make out. It seemed like a solid mass of oddly colored people in oddly colored outfits, a solid wall of odd people. He nearly had a panic attack. What was with them and boots? And the Red Ribbon insignia? The teenager wanted to cling to Juuhachigou so neither of them would get lost. "Stop licking the walls!"

"I always knew you were into weird stuff, Juuhachi."

Her brother had the pleasure of shoving the little guy out of his seat. "He got her kicked out of the arcade, but they're not sleeping together. He doesn't have the guts to even hold her hand."

"Maybe that's what she's into." The purple-skinned man had a laugh not unlike Krillin's own foster father, and it wasn't diminished from his place on the floor.

"You should sleep with the little guy, Juu. Or else he'll find someone that will give him the milk rather than making him buy the whole cow." The oddly southern accented man lit a cigar, and managed to make the gesture obscene. He had blue eyes too.

"It's not like that!" Krillin waved his arms around, sweating. Everyone just stared at him, except Juuhachigou who flicked a pea at her brother's face in-between glaring at everyone. "I love Juuhachigou!"

"What?"

"What does he mean?"

"Huh?" The smallest one dug the handle of his spoon into his ear, trying to clear the seemingly blocked passage. A dog with a hugely elongated forehead ran underfoot. It was so huge a canine, that the little guy could have ridden it like a horse.

"Juunigou, stop poking me."

"I don't know! It's just something he says. Ignore it."

"But I do." He took her hand. "I do love you Juuhachigou."

"Shut up, you're only making it worse." She was practically squirming in her seat.

"Damnit, Kyuugou, find you own seat!"

"Aw, Juuhachi, I remember when you were no bigger than my knee. And now, here you are with a boy and bein' in love." The silver haired man grinned maliciously. The way he dropped his g's was nearly as annoying as the weirdly knowing look on his face. "When's the weddin'?"

Suddenly, the biggest guy there reached out and shook Krillin's hand, causing him to bounce up and down. But his huge, trashcan sized hand was gentle. His voice was thick and deep and in a monotone. Maybe he was deaf? "Nice to meet you, Krillin. Juuhachigou talks about you occasionally."

"Does she?"

"Yes." The huge green-and-black clad giant finally sat down, and remained silent. His light blue eyes lacked the malice of Juunanagou, the clown, or occasionally, Juuhachigou.

"Juugogou, maybe you've had enough." Another huge man with a long black braid pulled an entire bottle of whiskey from the tiny man. His grey tinged skin wasn't helped by his green kilt, and his amber eyes were humorless.

There were very small bits of resemblance between them. A few with short hooked noses, some with thin carved faces, other round and doughy. Eyes that ranged from green to hazel but mostly a stark blue, and almost everyone's were almond shaped. All wore earrings.

Normally, Juuhachigou and Juunanagou were the best looking people in a room, but never did they so easily and quickly outstrip a group in looks. Even Krillin seemed normal here. His clothes had never seemed so nice.

"Nigou," Someone said seriously, "If you do that one more time, I'll set this entire building on fire."

"Oh god, is Ichigou eating the candles again?"

"What is this?"

They all turned.

Her foster father was impressively tall. He had taken them in after some mess with their biological parents that neither Juuhachigou nor Juunanagou ever clarified, obtaining the paperwork through some means never described. Krillin nodded to him respectfully, reminding himself that the blonde girl and her brother hated the man dearly, for reasons never discussed. Should he say something rude to him, or continue to be nice. He had both the hooked nose and blue eyes that slanted at the corners.

But the old man took that choice partially away from him. "This is him! This is the boy!" He pointed a finger at Krillin and everything.

Juuhachigou nodded.

"This is Krillin, friend to Goku?"

Another nod.

The scientist snapped his fingers. One to eighteen people hopped up out of their seat and hurriedly grabbed Krillin by his collar. He saw Juuhachigou, sighing and eating the taco off his plate while a dog knocked over something in the kitchen before he was hoisted over their heads. For a second, he thought they were doing some weird ceremony to welcome him. He's one of us! For better or worse.

Then they carried him to the front door, and threw him out.

"Don't ever darken this doorstep again, midget." Juunanagou threatened him. Gero glared at him until the short man's insides turned to jelly. The shortest one stopped to take a hit off his flask, but otherwise all headed inside, leaving the door wide open.

Juuhachigou stepped out to join him, still eating the taco. "That's very mature. All of you, bravo." She mockingly applauded them, lettuce falling to the floor.

"You weren't kidding," Krillin muttered, feeling his bruised back.

Dr. Gero rose another foot in height, staring her down. "I forbid you from seeing this boy. Look at him. Those clothes. The lack of piercings. This family doesn't need that."

She took a neat bite of her food. "And if I continue to see him?"

"You're no longer welcomed under this roof!"

Juuhachigou closed the front door for him. "Fine."

It opened once again, briefly, and out fell a ruffled Juunanagou. "Take this one with you too."

Her twin brushed himself off, rising smoothly. "So where's the next stop, sis? Back to the tree house?"

"No, not after the time it got struck by lightning," the blonde growled. "I've had enough with all of them. Especially the old man and his endless monologing."

"Mom's and Dad's?"

"I think they moved. I don't know. But I'm not moving into a tent on the front lawn. Not again."

Krillin nearly asked if that had gotten struck by lightning too. "…you guys can come stay with me? Right?"

Juunanagou was warier than his sister. "And where will we stay?"

"You two can share my room. I'll stay on the couch."

"Oh, joy."

"I guess I get to meet your family. Again."

"We'll try not to beat them up. Again."

169. Was it Good For You?

Master Roshi found them like that, leaning against each other, bathed in sweat. They were hardly clothed, and he lowered his sunglasses to leer at them, Juuhachigou in particular, but he made sure to wink at Krillin. Way to go, boy. He had not thought it was possible for him to get Juuhachigou in only a pair of small shorts and an old worn t-shirt that showed everything she had off rather nicely. But Krillin was a stubborn fighter.

Kami bless him.

"Do it again," Juuhachigou begged, while Master Roshi nearly choked to death on his own spit.

"You do it to me," Krillin pleaded.

"Fine."

And that was when the older hermit saw the spray bottles. When they pulled apart, it was the rather unappealing sound of hot flesh unsticking itself. They sighed in joy when they sprayed the other with cold water, and leaned back to back.

Then Juuhachigou caught sight of him. "What are you staring at?"

Krillin began begging again, "Now, please, do me, do it again."

170. Roleplay

"I'm a mad scientist," she told him, dryly, "and you're the test subject."

Krillin burst into guilty giggles. His mouth brushed her ear and made her smile. "I'm the scientist, and you're the crazed Saiyan I allowed to live with me, for some bizarre reason."

Juuhachigou laughed long and hard. "And the Turtle can be Yamcha."

"Right; we'll draw some scars on him, and I'll dump him in front of everyone, and sleep with you out of revenge. But then you'll get me pregnant and win my heart with your sociopathic mood swings."

"Are you sure that's what happened?"

Krillin shrugged, "They won't talk about it."

"I'm the brain damaged Saiyan." Her tongue traced the shell of his ear. "And you're the country girl that will beat me after I stupidly promised to marry you, and then forgot."

Blasphemy, and her husband laughed again.

"You're the shape shifting pig…"

"And you're the pervert who admires my collection of female underwear."

Another dirty giggle.

"How about," Krillin looked at her with narrowed eyes, peering at her through the strands of short hair that fell into his eyes. "You're the beautiful woman I saved from a monster, and you're just so grateful. Obviously, I deserve a reward for my bravery."

"How about," She pushed gold hair out of her own face. "You're the sorry human I found at the side of the road, begging for mercy. Obviously, I'm going to make you work for that."

"We can't both be the one that's trying to make the other happy."

"Want to find out?"

Ironic sex talk was still sex talk they discovered.

171. I'm poisoned from the very moment

Krillin finally kissed her because, supposedly, reportedly, her face had been so sad and distraught through the evening, and shifted only to so bored and uninterested when the party was over. She was busy hanging around by the stairs, alone, and allowing him to kiss her without public shame or embarrassment.

It was simple and nothing exciting. He could definitely say that when she'd kissed him, there had been more fireworks. That time he'd nearly jumped out of his skin, while being unable to move or even breathe. Actual sparks had blazed briefly in his eyes.

But this time, even if he didn't feel his heart exploding, was nice. Her cheek was smooth and slightly cold, and Juuhachigou didn't hurt him for touching her. It was just peaceful and easy. Almost friendly.

The blonde woman just stared at him with wide eyes, taken aback.

The short man smiled at her, saying good night and waving to her before moving to his assigned guest room that Bulma had offered all her friends.

So he missed the way Juuhachigou's face went pink and she had to lean against the wall before stumbling upstairs to her own room, eyes vacant as she played something over in her mind, over and over.

172. Blind Date

She just sat there, drinking a cup of good wine, waiting in a nice restaurant for a man she had never met. This was a terrible idea. But her friends had talked her into it. Holding up a new dress they'd bought for her, only for this moment, holding it hostage. "You never go out, Juu. And I know a great guy."

"Really great." Chi-Chi's grin was a trifle cruel. Too many white teeth glittered towards her.

It was all a terrible joke. Who was this awful guy they were setting her up with? What did he do? Probably just escaped from prison, or don't worry, he's out on parole, a real sweetie, just make sure not to vacation outside the state. Her brother had some rough friends/acquaintances, but Juuhachigou preferred not to spend time with people who didn't know 'cigarette math.' Except for these two, who'd spend a night in the local jail after a night drunk and disorderly that had occurred thankfully before Juuhachigou had met these two.

Bulma just said he was a childhood friend, one she'd known since she was a young teenager, 'innocent, carefree but just as lovely,' the blue-haired woman had described herself. 'And Chi-Chi, well, she's even more beautiful since she got married not soon after, she glowed, too bad you missed the wedding. Great time.' But mysteriously, both she and Chi-Chi were scarce on details for her date. They refused to even give her a name to search for online to at least get some impression of him. What little they told him only made Juuhachigou more wary.

"He's a little short. Dark…" they shot a look at each other, their words stilted. "H-haired."

"Nice though."

"Really nice. Funny, in a way."

Chi-Chi clung to that as a lifeline. "Yes, funny."

"Good sense of humor."

"Lots of jokes. Lots and lots of jokes."

"Everyone gets along with him. He's probably the closest thing Vegeta has to a buddy. Oh, calm down. It's okay." Bulma flapped her hands. "He's not like Vegeta at all."

"Polar opposite," Chi-Chi assured her.

"In good shape."

"Oh, yeah, definitely."

"And funny."

"Super funny." Both her friends had nodded. Juuhachigou tried to remind herself that these were two decent enough women who would never literally leave her for the wolves. Friends who bribed her and wanted her to be happy and meet a nice guy.

Was it better or not that she had met them after college, and so they had no idea about her earlier boyfriends and crushes that she'd had during those awful years. Oh god, the moody art students, especially that one guy with the scarves and inability to enjoy anything that weren't his own abstract geometric shaped sculptures, including her. The shy punk singer she'd miserably tortured herself with, all safety pins and tattoos and inability to look her in the eye. What'shisname who worked in a shoe store part time and with whom she'd had an off and on again fling that ended when he ran off with some blue girl with the curliest orange hair that Juuhachigou had ever seen.

But for this lovely dress that clung to her and must have cost at least one of her paychecks, she could withstand at least a simple salad before fleeing. If it wasn't too bad, maybe she could order something expensive before escaping. The bathroom was close to the door, and she thought she could make it outside without too great a fuss.

The only man who came to her table that wasn't a waiter, but he could have been what with the way he stooped his head. He looked funny; Juuhachigou would give her friends that. There was technically hair on his head; on his eyebrows, and it was dark. A little short, yes, sure, if you held him in comparison with someone who sang on a yellow brick road, or Vegeta. Whom he was apparently quite close with.

She finished her glass of wine, and poured another with a steely grip on the bottle. She would need this.

"Hi," his voice was nasally and shy, a bad combination. A bad sign. "Are you Juuhachigou?"

A little flush darkened his pale face. Up close…where the fuck was his nose? Where they fuck was his nose? Was it so much to ask her date had a nose? She would kill Bulma and Chi-Chi for this. Juuhachigou would put one in the corner to wait while she slaughtered the other, so they could listen to the grisly murder. His eyes were round and guileless, and brown, no, grey. He looked at her, mouth a little open, taking her in.

He must have seen something in her eyes, because he slumped and looked further defeated.

Maybe she felt an unfamiliar surge of pity, because she didn't immediately leave. Maybe she was flattered by the obvious stunned expression. Maybe she wanted the lobster bisque, but didn't want to pony up the money for it.

So all Juuhachigou said was, "You're late."

Which made him perk up, like a flower that had been briefly trampled. By that comparison, he seemed a little taller. Sure, he was odd looking, but probably hadn't spent much time in jail. If he had, clearly he was tougher than he looked; otherwise, he wouldn't have made it out of the prison yard or laundry alive. Was that good or bad?

She took a sip of wine, and turned that over in her head.

He sat down. "You're Juuhachigou, right?"

"Yes. Of course. Bulma never gave me your name though."

"Oh well, it's Krillin." He almost made a move to shake her hand, but then nervously ran it down his tie to straighten it. It was a blue tie, worn with a white shirt and a plain black sports coat and (when she glanced downward) a pair of black pants. Krillin looked okay, and she had a sneaking suspicion that someone had picked these clothes out for him. There was something in his off-kilter appearance that spoke of polka-dot ties combined with stripes and polo shirts in ungodly pastels.

Krillin then. Kriiillllin. Not a terrible name. It could have been worse.

"Did Bulma," Krillin seemed to be searched for the right words to say. "Did she talk about me a lot?"

Juuhachigou held her hand up, motioning, eyes narrowed suspiciously. She went through the few times Bulma had mentioned Krillin directly. "She said, he's nice and all, but he's always…always…then she just sort of trailed off."

He touched his chin with his thumb forcing his lower lip to the side, a big cute innocent expression that was way too effective. Did he even realize that? "Well, you know how Bulma can be."

Juuhachigou was not entirely convinced. Bulma was crazy, sure, but that didn't mean her friends were any saner.

Krillin seemed to realize this, and perhaps desperation awoke some joking side from him. He grinned, drawing a reluctant smile on her own face. Already, he was making her do things she didn't want to do. But at least with him, this didn't involve almost getting tattoos or going to pretentious art shows.

"Let's just order."

173. Everyone believes in something

For some bizarre reason, as the hour grew late and the sun was long gone, their discussion turned to religion and belief.

"You did meet Kami, in fact Krillin, you even died."

Even in an argument over theology, something neither was well versed in, Chi-Chi sounded confident. Behind them, Goten turned over, but didn't awaken or cough. A good sign.

"But what do you believe in. If you didn't know there was an afterlife."

She looked into her tea, tired but the years had treated her kindly and would still do so for quite some time. "I think I would still believe in it."

"Sometimes I still don't know what to think about that. Even after hearing from Goku, and the others who trained with King Kai."

"Do you remember anything from your time being dead?"

Krillin shook his head. "Nothing."

"Do you think Goku is watching us?"

"Possibly. If he isn't busy stuffing his face and getting into fights." Chi-Chi huffed and grumbled some more under her breath. Krillin was used to it, and only refilled his cup.

Chi-Chi stared at her youngest, his breathing steady and relaxed, finally getting over his later winter flu. He looked exactly like Goku must have, when he'd arrived as a tailed infant with the name Kakarrot and a mission to destroy the planet. "I believe in second chances, and that some people can change when given the opportunity."

"Do you think that's possible? What if the person doesn't want a second chance? Or any redemption?"

"What does that leave?"

"I'm not sure." He admired his drink, Perfect blackness in a glass.

"After all Goku's done, and since I have to chase Piccolo out of here at least once a week to get Gohan back to his studies, I do have to say that…" The once-again widow tapped her spoon on the porcelain. "If someone doesn't want a chance to redeem themselves, then you shove it down their throat and make them change."

174. Camping

"Is Gohan coming along?"

"No."

"Bulma and Trunks?"

"Nope."

"Just you two."

"Just us," Krillin agreed, zipping up his sleeping bag and struggling to repack it. Then he started in on the checking for supplies. Some cans of peaches, a couple of creamed corns, some green peas, she'd like that, wouldn't she? Jeez, who kept buying dented Spaghettios? Aw, oh well.

The turtle hermit looked taken aback. "I had no idea you and Juuhachigou were together."

"What? What are you talking about?" His recently grown hair was standing on end.

"Whoever you take camping, you'll probably end up humping."

Oolong nodded wisely. "It's the law of nature. Or something."

"The crickets. The canned food. It's romance, boy."

All the expression slid off his face. "But, Juuhachigou invited me."

Both Oolong and Master Roshi raised their glasses in a toast.

The clatter of cans and pots and pans made Krillin jumped into the air. His fingers found each other, and remained clenched in an embrace. One maybe not unlike the one Juuhachigou wanted from him. In the cargo shorts he'd specifically bought for this trip, his legs looked short and pale. And not a nice pale either, more of a pasty tone than porcelain. This, these, were the legs of the man she wanted to 'take camping'? He actually felt bad for her; she was getting more dented Spaghettios.

His eyes caught on his wrinkled sleeping bag. It was very small.

"Come on Krillin." Juuhachigou came down the stairs. "Let's get a move on before the mosquitoes start up."

175. Submission

A day later, she was back, standing exactly where she'd been. Krillin sat in the same place, but this time he had a bowl of cereal in front of him.

Juuhachigou stared at his food of choice. "It's four in the afternoon."

"I can have cereal whenever I want."

"True." She seemed even more off put by his stern reply. Things really weren't going to whatever she'd had planned. If, indeed, she had finally managed to come up with a plan this time aside from yelling at him and saying he didn't love her.

Which would totally end in more failure since he still completely did love her. More, even. She was so vulnerable beneath the hard stares and untouchable, unflinching confidence that had only been unraveled by a hideous giant cicada trying to eat her. Even then, she'd fought with grace, and had been so loyal to Juurokugou until there was no other choice. It had really been watching her try to save her friend that had fully cemented how he'd felt and eased the shame and guilt. There was a kindness hidden to her, deep inside, that was as attractive as the, um, outside.

Which only looked nicer than usual, maybe, in the clinging jeans and a plain t-shirt.

He still didn't understand how she'd managed to come into the building to easily, and with no signs of entry. He'd thought about it, walking around the house and trying to discover anything that looked disturbed or out of place. But the weirdest thing he saw was his reflection while he prowled the halls with suspicious eyes and came upon a mirror.

Maybe she had a key?

"So why do you love me?" She hissed the last two words. They seemed to make her only angrier, those words, and having had to say them aloud.

Krillin had another spoonful of cereal, and motioned for Juuhachigou to have a seat. Which only seemed to remove even more of her confidence. She didn't sit down; deciding to stand would keep her rage alive and burning. But really, Krillin thought, her legs will probably just get tired. The blonde woman seemed to need some control over the situation though.

He understood.

"Is it just because your," a pause as she sneered and disgust crept into her voice, "attraction to me?"

"Well, that's part of it." He kept his voice light. If it cracked, broke, or stuttered, she would gain the upper hand. And things might get even worse. "You can't love someone without being sexually attracted to them."

Sexually. One side of her mouth crept downward, and Krillin worried that she was having a stroke. That word must have set off spark in her head, and perhaps burst a blood vessel.

"You are very beautiful. Breathtakingly gorgeous."

The blonde's breathe caught in her throat as she stared at him. She was practically cringing and pulling away.

"You're probably the best looking person I've seen."

"Probably." Her voice was emotionless.

"Well," Krillin raised an eyebrow playfully. "There's your twin brother. I always did like brunettes…"

She gave a humorless huffing laugh she seemed unable to control. Or maybe it was a strangled cry for help?

He had another mouthful of cereal, feeling smug, even as Juuhachigou's head lowered. Never had the sugar coated, supposedly seven grained part of a healthy breakfast tasted so sweet. "But there are also other things I like about you. I wouldn't have done all that just because you're pretty."

"I tried to kill you and your friends. I only let them live to make them seem more pathetic."

"Sure, but maybe we deserved that. Besides," he waved a hand, dismissingly. "Just about all our friends beat at least one of us up at some point. It's like an initiation to at least dislike Goku."

Her eyes were unfocused, probably replaying something in her head about them. "I suppose that's true."

"And you're a good person. You haven't hurt anyone, besides us. And we healed."

"Without us, if you had used that remote, Cell wouldn't have killed all those people. Including Goku."

"Not your fault." Krillin sipped at the milk at the bottom of his bowl. "Goku had to do it, and I couldn't use that remote controller on someone innocent. It would have been wrong."

"You talk about morality." Her voice was close to a snarl. "But your best friend is dead, no matter how you try to deny your responsibility."

Krillin could feel himself stiffening, and his gaze on her turning sharp. "That's true. But what's done is done. We just have to move on and do the best we can."

Juuhachigou snorted in disdain. "Did the monks teach you that after they finished beating you?"

He smiled. "Goku did. After he finished beating me at something."

She looked at him, something not soft, but softer, on her face. "He wasn't that great. A good fighter, maybe, but you could say the same of Vegeta. That doesn't mean that he was a good man," then she caught herself. "Not that that means anything either."

Krillin kept the smile on his face. "You still hate Vegeta."

Juuhachigou scoffed. "Why would I like him? He gave me over to Cell."

"Fair enough." He peeked at her. "I also like the way you don't seem to let anything get to you."

"What do you mean?" She was trying to sound dangerous again, which for some reason only made his heart pound in a dizzying way, and made him continue. When had he become a masochist, or at least someone who went out of his way to look for danger? Of course, his mind was able to supply an answer easily: when she kissed you.

When it came to Juuhachigou, he would throw himself before Cell over and over again, before and after she'd been absorbed by that monster. So what was talking to her, telling her what she already knew, compared to that?

"You always seem distant to everything, above it." Except, of course, for when she was about to be killed, or Krillin mentioned something that had the word 'sex' in it.

He summoned his courage, but only was able to find absence of fear. He was already at the edge, creeping along over a huge height and barely hanging on. Might as well sing a happy song and take it easy rather than worry about straining his fingers and looking down.

"I don't suppose you're changed your mind."

"About what?"

"Oh, thinking well of me. Deciding I'm a nice guy. One that has a chance with you."

Amazing, how her expression was also exactly the same as the day. Finally, she sat down, as though feeling weak.

Krillin threw out a line, if only to get her to say something. Maybe something positive. Maybe. "Do you find me repulsive?"

Her words grated on his ears. "I have no interest in a bald, midget that doesn't even have a nose."

"I can grow my hair out. I shave it, you know. Why does no one remember that?"

"Well…" Juuhachigou said reluctantly, "I guess you would look better…"

Then, stopping suddenly, she looked at him, opening and closing her mouth as she replayed everything. Then she pushed back her chair, standing up again.

"I have no interest in you. You're...you. And I don't find that attractive."

That hurt. An ouch so deep he wanted to drown himself in his milk. Breaking up with Maron was a warm cozy experience in front of a fire and a cup of cocoa compared to this. This was curled up in a ball with your shower running, sobbing and clutching the soap bad. Getting stabbed over and over again, and then spat in the face by the girl you loved painful. Punched by Goku awful. Worse still than having his friends go out and get married and have relationships and kids while you remained single for another year.

He wanted to throw himself off a cliff, but that wouldn't have been quick enough.

Not even a little attractive? Not hideous? Something?

Krillin refilled his bowl to hide his expression, trying not to spill cereal while dealing with his watery unfocused eyes, and when he looked up, Juuhachigou was gone again.