Grape Soda and Magnets

by ChronicallyinFlaming

A collection of over a hundred Krillin/18 prompts, ranging from AU to proposals to holidays to babysitting. V/B, G/CC featured.

18. 426 thru 500

Only took what, two months for this chapter? Getting better.

Also, holy hell, I've been working on Days, you know, that really old collection of K/18 stories? Yeah, so we might get an update there eventually.

And thanks for the reviews, messages and favorites, because that stuff reminds me to keep working on this giant collection. tomorrow4ever, it's pretty fun to see someone reading this story from the beginning, and reminding of all this past work, so thanks for that.

Can you believe we got to eighteen chapters? Isn't that just perfect?

Next time, some weeping, mentions of Maron, and an attempt at living in a normal place rather than one filled with porn.

---

I was scared of dentists and the dark

I was scared of pretty girls and starting conversations

Oh all my friends are turning green

You're the magicians assistant in their dreams.

Oh, and they come unstuck

Lady, runnin' down to the riptide

Taken away to the dark side

I wanna be your left hand man

And I love you when you're singin' that song and

I gotta lump in my throat cos

You're gonna sing the words wrong

Riptide—Vance Joy

Said in the most innuendo-ridden way possible:

"What would you like for…dinner?" - Android Eighteen

"We'll figure it out…later." -Krillin

-Dragon Ball Z Budokai 3

---

426. She Walks Right Up, And Then She Tells Me I'm an Asshole

People were staring, and he wasn't whether to be glad of witnesses or not.

At least she hadn't punched, or killed him, Krillin consoled himself, feeling his stomach still clenching, the pressure behind his eyes, the heat of her eyes and the warm of Juuhachigou's breath nearly brushing against his forehead as she leaned forward.

For a second, Krillin had thought-

For just a second of déjà vu—

Then he'd registered what she was saying, her tone, the exact words, the disgust in those eyes, the sudden pain in his stomach and chest, his crumbling hope for anything really.

As Juuhachigou herself had asked, rhetorically, how could he have thought her feelings otherwise?

427. All my enemies are turning into my teachers

Of course when Chi-Chi handed the phone over without a word, Goku took it immediately. That was always the safest thing to do, especially when she was attempting to cook, and the boys were nowhere in sight.

For once, it wasn't anyone calling for Chi, or a girl asking about Goten or some old guy wanted to talk about papers with Gohan. For a second, Goku had no idea who was speaking, though of course he knew the voice, but…Had he ever heard Vegeta using a phone before? And he had no idea what Vegeta was even talking about. Not that that was new, though for once the older guy wasn't talking about that planet that had the same name as him.

For once, he wasn't bragging about Saiyan heritage, about what Goku had missed growing up amongst humans, such as training for his tail to be grabbed. His tail, that sometimes he would still miss. That Gohan had inherited and would curl around his parents' wrists when they'd held him. Had Goten been born with a tail?

Goten, who was growing taller, and thinner, and would fight like his mother, and Gohan, who had never trained with Master Roshi or so much with Goku, and instead mirrored Piccolo more than anyone else.

After a few seconds of silence, where you could practically hear the vein pulsing in Vegeta's head as he was ignored, Goku figured out what was going on. "Gohan wrote a book?"

"That's what I've been saying, Kakarotte. Have you been listened to me at all? Do you not even know that he wrote about our race?"

Had Gohan talked about it? Had Chi-Chi? Or Goten?

When was the last time he'd talked to his oldest son, who was normally with Videl or Goten or Piccolo or at school somewhere west?

It was almost funny to hang up on Vegeta, and then ignore the phone ringing, to sit at the table and listen for any details of that book. But then, no one mentioned it, and he couldn't bring it up. What if they had talked about it, and he'd just forgotten something again, and Chi-Chi might start to yell at him for not remembering Gohan writing a book. So Goku just took another slice of roast and sneakily kept his thoughts to himself (for once, Chi might have said) and planned to make a trip to the East City.

For the first time ever, he actually searched, and then went inside a book store that smelled like burnt coffee beans and ink. Then the tall man wished that he was wearing a jacket like the other people here. Normally there were stares when he traveled around in this gi, but searching around in a place he'd never been, full of things he didn't entirely understand, his boots seemed heavier than before. Gohan had written a book that was on one of these shelves, alongside these really thick books full of words he wouldn't know. It was here, next to things that people actually spent hours studying, so different from everything that was in his own head, and he felt as proud as Chi-Chi had been when Gohan had first begun to clumsily push letters together on the fridge to spell out words.

It was by a bunch of books, these ones skinny compared to Gohan's. By 'Cultural Anthropology.' His son's name written clearly and displayed.

Goku read the first page. Then he went back and re-read it. Then he wandered around until he found a dictionary. Then a 'thesaurus', full of words that meant other words, something he didn't even know existed. He was five again, playing with a caterpillar while Grandpa Gohan tried to sound out the alphabet on a small chalk board that always made Goku sneeze. He was twelve and short, sand in his shoes distracted him while he stuttering over a word and Roshi and Krillin stared.

The dictionary helped. But he couldn't string together what the sentences actually meant. Skipping ahead was worse, because it all became about small words that he did know, but didn't make sense, because what did some family with a weird name have to do with Saiyans? The word didn't appear in any of the pages, as far as Goku could tell.

There was almost a headache behind his eyes as he bought the book and dictionary and thesaurus, and he didn't even try going home and explaining why he had this stuff.

The little pink house that had been his home years and years ago was safer. Krillin and Roshi had lots of books, though most of them seemed to feature only pictures of women not wearing a lot, or stories where women took off their clothes, but maybe that happened in Gohan's book and he'd just missed it.

Goku didn't even bother knocking, distracted, wanting to know what his son was trying to say, and when he nearly walked into the shorter woman, they both jumped.

He could almost read her mind, thought he wouldn't have dared trying that trick that King Kai had taught him; it would have involved contact, and she'd probably try murdering him if he did something like that. But. It was written all over her pale face. A look that he could read: There were plenty of odd sights she'd seen, before and after settling down on this island, but Goku showing up with a handful of books was new.

"Hi. Is Krillin around?"

How quickly she crossed her arms, like this weird impression of Vegeta. "He's out. Taking Marron to school."

If he'd gone to a school, could he have read these? He wanted to tell that little blonde girl to pay attention in her class, so then she wouldn't have to ask a scary android for help ever. Except that she was the daughter of that scary android, so maybe she wouldn't mind.

"What do you want?"

Weird eyes on his books. The real question.

"Oh. I'm trying to read this book."

"Gohan's?"

"Yes. Have you read it?"

Then she could explain it.

"Have I? Of course not. I know enough about you Saiyans from Gero."

"That's what it's about? Really?"

"I think there's a Cliff's notes version somewhere. Why don't you try that?" From the way she was smirking, there was a joke in there.

"Look. I…." Even now, knowing that she was one of the good guys (girls or whatever), Goku still felt nervous around . She looked human enough, but no one had eyes like that, and she reminded him of purple nightmares and seemed to even smell of needles and doctors. And the way she looked at him, like Krillin had when they first met and he thought Goku was an idiot because he couldn't tell girls from boys and know how to easily sound out large words that slipped so easily from the short bald boy's mouth. "I know how to read. But all this is..."

Since Goku had come back from space after fighting Freiza, Gohan had been way smarter than him. Probably even before then. And books had never been so easy for him. But Gohan had written a book, and Goku couldn't even make heads or tails of it.

(how Gohan had used to curl his tail around his own wrist, while Goku and Chi-Chi watched him)

"It's not about the Saiyans. I told you, I can read."

"It's…you idiot." She actually looked uncomfortable. 'It's a metaphor. He wrote about the aliens, about you aliens, and changed the names."

They ended up calling Vegeta, and asking for more details. They had to put him on the speakerphone while the Saiyan prince sighed and tried to explain why he thought the lighthouse that was mentioned throughout represented strength that Gohan had sought, as any Saiyan would.

"I think you're projecting there."

"It's obvious. This entire thing is just some pathetic mental exercise that Gohan did to deal with his true heritage while he pretends.

"But. But, the way he talks about it. It sounds sad. Like, he keeps." Goku flipped around, looking for the right lines. "He keeps talking about these drooping flowers, that are dying because 'changing seasons.' Everywhere they go, it has a bunch of dying flowers. Haunting them."

"…"

"…"

"You may be onto something, Goku." Juuhachigou actually looked almost impressed. "They're definitely a metaphor for the Saiyans dying off in the end."

"But the season are changing," Vegeta argued, too angry to be talking about dying flowers. "It is getting colder. The boy keeps talking about ice growing."

"Which boy? There's two boys. The one that gets to be the leader, and the one that ends up-"

"Hey. Hey! I haven't reached the end yet. Don't spoil it."

"Kakarotte, you haven't even finished the damn book yet? So you don't know that the know-it-all boy gets killed when he tries to turn the main group from their king?"

"No!"

"Also, the dog dies at the end."

"No! Wait. What dog?"

"You still have not gotten to the part about the dog?"

"Vegeta, he never uses the word 'king.' I'm sure of it. You need to read it again." Then Juuhachigou's face was getting paler, somehow. "God. Are we starting a reading group? This is going to be like the time that Chi-Chi taught Piccolo and I how to knit, isn't it?"

"Hah. You and the Namek and Goku's woman were knitting together?"

"At least she knows that the tribe definitely was supposed to be Gohan's friends, not his enemies."

"You idiot. The boy that joins the tribe isn't a stand-in for your son. He's the tribe leader. It's clearly wish fulfillment. The dog and boy that are sacrificed represent something to do with your son."

"Projecting, Vegeta. Gohan's always been more of a student. He's the one that gets betrayed at the end. Probably Gohan working out his issues because of what happened at the Cell Games."

"Stop spoiling the ending!"

"Really, why don't you just ask Piccolo to help? He proofread the damn thing."

428. Pull up your car, park it outside my house

Juuhachigou hadn't actually said the word 'date,' but considering she'd driven all the way here, honked the horn until he'd wandered out half-asleep and half-dressed, then physically hauled him inside through the window. His hair flopped against his forehead, and he wondered if it had been a bad idea to grow it out after all.

Smashed against the crank shaft and the window and Juuhachigou's leg, Krillin finally fully woke up and was very conscious of his bare chest. "What—what are you doing? You want to come in? Um. I can make breakfast."

Her voice was calm and nearly flustered him as much as that actually contact her warm bony knee. "I have a gym bag full of cash I took from my brother. I have nowhere else to be. Or anything else to do but drive around in circles. And you, I suppose."

That sentence needed several cups of coffee and hours of long reflection to be fully understood. "…but where did your brother get the money?"

"Krillin. That is not important. Now, do you have anyplace better to be or anything better to do?"

"Oh, drive on. Say, when did you get your license? And this car? And this money?"

429. I Want A Man that Makes Me Feel Like A Woman

"Um. Miss, Miss Juuhachigou? Miss Android 18?" Options were running out. "Ma'am?"

It was easier to just stand here, and look him over. Short as ever, though maybe a little taller standing straight rather than his bowlegged fighting stance. In normal clothes (for him). Stubble on his head and round cheeks. Eyes the same shade of that dark growth of struggling hair.

"Why are you here, Miss Juuhachigou? Not that I have a problem…with you being here. You can come by anytime. No problem."

Jeans a ridiculous shade of green. Shirt red, and unfortunate. You could really see the sweat stains under his arms. Beading along his pale temple, the sad attempt of a haircut. Really, him with hair, and a beard…it looked soft enough, though. It was hard for him to look worse. And why wait so long to grow his hair out? Why go around being a short noseless bald weakling?

"It's just, you know, I'm curious why you're here. Since you haven't stopped by before. Not that I was expecting it."

He really did try though. If in his own strange stuttering hopeless way, and for her. People usually did not try, when it came to her, except to get away. Certainly never to the degree that he had done to attempt making her simply—happy?

"It's nice seeing you though."

He had wanted and had made his choices. For better or worse.

And if Krillin could be honest, reach out, now perhaps she could finally open her mouth and make her own decision.

430. My intentions were to keep the wallet after I had found it, but it didn't work out that way.

Discreetly, she leaned forward and pressed her boot down on the piece of leather. Then looked around before dragging it closer and picking it up.

Of course there was basically no money in it.

The license was dorky, even for a license picture. Huge dark eyes trying not to blink at the camera. There were pictures in the folds, of this stranger with an arm around another guy, both laughing, and possibly boyfriend she might have thought until she saw the one with him getting kissed by a girl, squirming over the barely dressed woman's touch. Him hanging out with a dark-haired kid by a fire, next to a woman that looked like the one who'd been kissing him but wasn't, and a pig. An older picture of the guy as a skinnier teenager, looking wry and trying to be cool, with a pair of plastic red sunglasses covering his eyes. Shirtless, besides the ocean, sunburned and weirdly cute, Juuhachigou had to admit. Cute enough for her to want to slap him, and she had an unsettling sinking feeling in her stomach, a mixture of annoyance and dislike, disappointment, and had to admit alone in this dark theatre, that she was pathetically developing feelings for a guy she didn't know in any meaningful way.

What would be her line when she met him, 'I see you're an organ donor. That's highly relevant for my interests.' Oh god. That was what her brother would have done.

That was what any one of her adopted brothers would have done.

Yet. Here she rummaged. For a wedding picture or a snapshot of a girlfriend. No way were those two girls that appeared in the group photos (weirdos) dating him. This, this is what happened when she told her twin to fuck off with his dumb car, and went without him to places. Juuhachigou could almost him laughing and mocking this mess of a short man.

But at least she could pay for popcorn now.

Who was this guy exactly?

Was there a phone number written anywhere?

Because he seemed the type to reward a lost wallet.

431. Please Don't Wake Me

Krillin, even during this moment, wasn't so oblivious as to not know what this was. The grey shark that would sneak up to bite him, and send him bleeding and in shock to the bottom of the ocean. Of course he knew what this was, and how bad his state of mind was after all that had happened.

But why leave the safety of these blankets and pillows?

Why pull himself up and leave?

It's so easy to simply lie there, and close his eyes and be swept out again.

Once before she had come to him while he'd slept before, after all.

432. These Feelings Won't Leave; Can You Feel The Chemistry

This time, she managed to beat the waiter in putting Krillin out. Rather than wait for the stranger to reach the fire extinguisher, she simply emptied the exquisite wine bucket they'd ordered to chill their overpriced drinks. Juuhachigou made sure to keep the half-empty bottle next to her; she needed it.

Why had she thought a nice restaurant would somehow break the curse?

Yes, the curse. The pig was right. They were jinxed. The gods, and they apparently did exist, were there to punish her for what she'd done. They had not saved her and Juunanagou from Gero, but they had made her overextend her hand in hopes of taking his, only to knock the candle into his lap. They done this.

As well as the floorboard that had shot up when she'd stepped towards him, to smack her painlessly in the face. Or the electricity that had gone out the night they'd attempted to watch a movie relatively alone, and then the temperature had risen and disallowed any attempt at moving closer under the guise of warmth. The time when she had purposefully, for once in her life, woken early to greet him in the morning without any distraction, only to find the doorknob broken and had upset the whole house when she tore the entire door off the hinges.

When the light fixture hanging over the kitchen table had come down perfectly onto her head when he'd poured her coffee (an innocent gesture that the fates had still mocked).

The screen door snapping in two when she'd first arrived at his house, so easily brushed off as wear from the salt.

Baba, Roshi's almost stranger sister, stopping by to look at her and then (still unexplainably) her crystal ball, asking Juuhachigou if her twin brother was getting along with Krillin.

Her moment with the others of 'babysitting' a studying Gohan and flirting with Krillin, to be tarnished first by the tire swing she'd been sitting on snapping, and then Chi-Chi's hurried screams as she announced the baby was coming.

As though their first meeting wasn't rough enough.

Juuhachigou saw that wooden board of blonde wood rising to block off her view of the fighter.

Krillin was still lying on the ground, in shock. Perhaps contemplating Roshi's advice on having an exorcism. The fire had done a number on his clothes and made the view almost appreciable. For that, she took another swallow straight from the bottle, and reassured herself that no matter what, there was only so much damage the Earth could do to her.

433. You Can Be Strong, You Can Only Be Free

Finding Juunanagou had been easy enough.

It was what came after that were the real problems came in.

They never said it aloud, but this was her twin, and he knew her as well as she knew him. They didn't need words.

It wouldn't be hard. To sink in, and fly up over the city. Raise ki that never faded, and stretch out a hand. Give into the voice they would forever hear, and bring fire and destruction to the unsuspecting people below with their little lives. Meaningless. Continue until the fighters came to destroy them.

And would Krillin be there? How could he ever stay away?

There were orders and the voice of a dead mad man, and no more bombs that could make this easier.

Again, someone took choices away from them. But this time, neither of the androids had any clue what to do after that fact.

434. I'll keep digging till I feel something.

"We can't all sleep in this van," Juuhachigou argued, kicking Krillin and his pillow aside. Seemingly ignoring the rain and hail pelting the outside of this van and the sleeping clash of lightning outside.

"Well, we have to. Roll over, sis. Since we don't have money for a hotel room. Because someone forgot to rob someone."

"He's right here," she hissed, still nudging at Krillin.

Krillin knew immediately that he looked far too scandalized. "You guys were planning on robbing me?"

"Probably."

"I guess it was a bad choice to go with you guys."

"You wake up every morning, looking like that. You look in a mirror, and decide to go out this way. Your entire life is made up of bad decisions."

"Hey. Hey."

"Jeez, sis, what crawled into your sleeping bag? Since I know it's wasn't Krillin. Even though you both want him to."

"…"

Her fist flew out almost too fast for Krillin to see it hit her brother. "Shut up."

"Ouch." Juunanagou nearly landed on top of the long-suffering fighter. Why was he here? Why hadn't he brought his wallet? Why was he still here?

"Well. You two seem to be getting along just fine. When's the wedding?"

"As though the same doesn't go for you. I see six kids in your future. Short noseless children. You name one of them after me, and of course he's the best and your favorite."

"Please. You're the one that spends time with him. You two will be the ones adopting six kids. God knows I don't want them. Or him. Especially him."

"At least you two aren't trying to talk in code anymore." Optimism always came to him, even in despair. Like so much else, it was probably Goku's influence.

"Zero one. Zero Zero one."

"Oh, knock it off."

It had crept back again, the fundamental difference, what the androids were beneath the skin and jokes, and how they'd all met. No matter how they might relatively ignore the discomfort that they should sit, or lay there, and talk about things like the weather and make jokes about who would get struck by lightning first should one of them leave the safety for the van and decided to run through the woods.

"You know that stuff doesn't matter, right? Not really. Deep down? It doesn't have to really change who you are." The length that separated them, that he was the only one here with a proper name, of his constant juggling with the fact of what they'd been through and how to approach someone that had lost their identities. How they hated pity that might be all he could offer. Together laughing at his attempts at empathy and friendship until they dragged his pouting form back to torture some more.

"He doesn't have to haunt you."

Krillin looked at the floor, at the shadows cast from the three of them. Tracing them, and realizing anew how similar Juuhachigou and Juunanagou were. Their dark shapes were all the same height. "One of you is grabbing my butt, and I don't think it's the person I want it to be."

"It probably isn't."

435. You're the Only Proper Noun I Need

Juuhachigou nudged him over to his apparent designated half of the bed, both still smiling and sweaty. Krillin had rarely seen anything so nice as her propped up on one elbow. "So, what's your name anyway?"

"What?"

That delightful grin widened. "Gero has several different version of your name in my database, and I never was quite sure which was your real name."

"Oh." That was a huge relief. For a moment, he'd been afraid that he'd knocked something loose, or somehow, she'd suffered temporary amnesia. Either one wouldn't have been a huge surprise, considering his luck. "Well. I usually go by Krillin. Or Kuririn. Whichever."

"I suppose Krillin rolls off the tongue a little faster." Juuhachigou made a show of looking at her fingernails. "Makes it a little easier to yell."

"And why do you like Juuhachigou? Would you prefer for me to call you Android Eighteen?" A dangerous gleam in those pale eyes that Krillin wisely decided not to look directly into. "Just Eighteen? Or 'Hachi. Or honey. Or babe?"

"Since you've been calling me 'Juuhachigou,' for how long now…just stick with that."

"Alright, Juuhachigou. How often do you jump into bed with someone whose name you don't even know?"

"About as often as you, Krillin."

436. If You Want to See Me on My Knees

He was thirty-three years old, as well as magically in his nineties. There was no other explanation for this. Simple sit-ups, ones he did every day, had somehow been his undoing. Now he couldn't even make it safely down the stairs from the pain of this hernia.

Instead, he rolled around his bed, cursing karma and fate and his bad luck.

He'd survived Garlic Junior coming back, then the androids, then Cell. Only to find his body giving out over working out. Incredibly depressing. He moped and clutched his organs so they wouldn't pop out any further.

His roommates offered support in the form of dirty magazines ('you're already just lying there'), and would bring terrible food as none of them could cook well. Mostly though, Krillin was alone, and undistracted.

Leaving him there to contemplate his mortality.

He'd always been so afraid of dying. Carried that weight around for years, that fear. But what if he wasn't violently killed again, along with his friends? What if he actually stayed on this planet long enough to age? And what if this was just the beginning of his body slowing down, betraying him?

So, given his usual state as the galaxy's kicking bag, Krillin was hardly shocked that Juuhachigou chose this moment to pry open his window and slide in. She practically landed near him, curling up to look at him. Then poked at his unusually unenthusiastic response of just lying there.

"What's wrong with you? Besides the obvious."

Before her, Krillin was normally reduced to some state Juuhachigou had literally described as 'puerile.' Usually when he would stare too long, and with her, he would daydream and actually giggle over her comments and hate himself and love her all the more for this. Now, there were no blushes or stammering, and he was no longer such a pathetic excuse of a man with a crush on a woman that didn't seem to reciprocate much.

But was he something worse, or better?

"I think I'm dying."

The blonde woman just positioned herself to look down at him. The better to take in his unshaven strained face. "Oh. Of course you are. You're human."

437. I don't even know you; you're just someone new I don't want to talk to

It was her stupid brother that dragged the fighters back into their live.

Because apparently, things were too peaceful in this small house as summer crept in, and they really needed livening up with bringing the scarred human and the noseless and strange weaklings into this warm place.

Her brother disregarded all of her complaints that had been formed the second she'd stepped out of her room, dressed in what felt way too casual—she wanted armor, no, better to look like she didn't care-to be stared at by the ridiculous supposed-warriors. 'Retired,' she would soon learn, another day in the new future of their endless presence.

"We met at a car show." Said with a hand wave, friendly, and she'd lost inspiring fear in that man.

And given the dreamy look Krillin was giving her, hand also raised and seemingly forgotten, Juuhachigou was no longer able to control him through intimidation; there would be a different weapon she would have to wield and it was one she refused to ever touch again. "Your brother nearly ran us down in a stolen car."

But that did not deter them. Neither of them, somehow. Not even when she'd threaten to run Yamcha through, as he'd feared before.

Maybe Juunanagou desensitized them.

It was something that occurred to her, as slow blossoming as the flowers of wherever-the-hell-they-were, as she felt herself blinking so slowly, somehow outside her house and holding a fishing pole, hating algae, the hum of dragonflies nearby. Hating that she was watching the sun actually rise. Laughing when her hook caught on Krillin's ear, and discovered she was better at catching fish than her brother.

Juuhachigou hadn't known she was even capable of getting headaches until she found herself, dead-eyed, shoveling wooly cereal, sitting beside a staring Krillin, and Yamcha, who had figured out how to pause and record TV shows and made them all suffer through his baseball games over and over again. Until she knew the actual rules of the baseball games, scores, until she could only wish a slow death onto her twin for this, until Krillin began to bug her about not eating at the table he'd specifically cleared for her.

Aspirin did nothing for her, that was also a new discover. As was learning how much she hated bowling shoes, and margaritas were strong enough, that Vegeta's son was almost as terrible as his father when babysat, that Krillin sounded even worse when singing, that there was truly no punishment that she could bestow onto Juunanagou that would even approach the mental anguish of these past few days, no week. Weeks. Months?

Were the leaves falling off that tree, and not because of the usual damage they all caused to their surroundings?

Her feet slid off the chair in front of her. The eggs, coated in tomato sauce as neither her brother nor Yamcha could cook. Given the recently cleared space, Juunanagou finally sat down, glaring at her.

"Krillin. What day is it?"

"Tuesday?" He held up her half of the laundry, carefully sorted from her brother's. "You want me to iron this shirt?"

438. Were It Not Kinder, Her Black Eye Would Be Darker

There was too much stupidity to parse right this second, but fighting the androids was so idiotic, it had to be the worse idea he'd ever had. This was Juuhachigou, who had beaten up a Super Saiyan and could crush his spine with her little finger and nary a second thought, and this wasn't even a real tournament and the cash money wasn't worth the complete loss of dignity as he was beaten up by a woman that looked misleadingly skinny.

But she had pushed him first and called him a wimp and asked rhetorically if he was even a fighter, but of course he wasn't since he was so weak and pathetic and she could just close her eyes and practically shut down, because he could never lay a single hand on her, in any way, wasn't that right, poor little chestnut, no wonder you're still single. Staring at her nails rather than him. How could you even think I'd like a guy that can't defend himself or throw a single punch? Come on, you pathetic worm, I'm closing my eyes, and you don't even have the courage to swing at me, how could anyone ever respect you?

Implying such things, such horrible things that made his hands ball up, and shame and frustration to raise his ki, and before he knew it, Krillin was almost preparing to punch the woman he loved in a sick attempt to impress her and win her heart. What the hell was wrong with him? To even think about taking a swing at Juuhachigou, for so many reasons? Just look at her, expecting him to take the abuse and not even thinking of him as a threat, knowing that she would win easily.

Just standing there, eyes closed, that smirk, and Krillin could have kissed her.

Could have leaned in even closer, and properly expressed how he felt in the way he wanted, with affection than meaningless violence, and he stood there, too close, closer, eyes wide and solemn, seeing only the planes of her face, the smug beautiful smile and sharp nose and dark lashes that fluttered and separated to take in whatever pathetic state he was in, and watch Juuhachigou do what he couldn't: punch the person before them in the face.

439. To Make You Feel Smittener With My Sad Picture of Girl Getting Bitterer

Juunanagou just laugh and dismissed all of what she'd said as nothing more than a joke. His only honest reaction was a slight wrinkle of disgust as she began going into detail over her growing obsession.

Rather than lock her up, slap her, talk sense into her, he simply handed her the bottle of bourbon, reminded her of the location of that small pink house, and gave her his blessing.

440. To Surprise You on Your Twenty-First Birthday

It's stupidly elaborate, dangerous, and dependent on everyone getting along for once in their damn lives.

Dependent on her not killing any of her captors, even as she sat here, feeling the bruises, aware of her torn clothes (which someone better reimburse her for), hair nearly mussed as Goku's had been, and somehow tied to a chair. All this after having fought both the Namek until another insane scientist had used a modified emergency shutdown controller on her-complete with mad cackling.

Unaware then of their ultimate plan as she fumed, hearing Vegeta's taunting as he threatened to finally murder her after Bulma had thrown her into the back of the capsule car. His insults interspersed with Bulma bragging about her invention, as someone unknown drove recklessly through traffic by the sound of it. She'd been so certain that they'd all gone insane (or sane rather) and had finally decided to take care of her while Krillin turned his back. Telling herself that it might be something she would have done if their roles were switched. And she had taken it in stride, knowing that at least this was still better than being absorbed by Cell.

Aware now of the others laughing at whatever expression is on her face.

But it is only after she has finally got feeling back in her limbs and was able to tear off the blindfold to see the real person she had to blame and punish for all this.

Complete with a ridiculous party hat that most of the others also wear. Vegeta in particular looks disturbing in such a thing, even as he tried to ignore the eschewed thing as he shovels down more pasta salad and refuses to acknowledge anyone's existence. The others wear them with more grace, and the kids were already opening the presents for her, ignoring their mothers' warnings of punishment. It is still a shocking feeling, to see these people around her, especially when they smile and don't wish death on her; perhaps more surprising to smile back at them and wish the same.

She didn't need to count the candles, given the large one in front that spelled out the numerals.

"I don't even think it's my birthday." Then she blinked, eyes further adjusted, her own sanity returning. Or at least, what passed for it since she has met Krillin again. Astounding, to find her own hands taking the dumb shiny hat covered with sequin, and putting it on to no doubt further ruined her hair. "I don't even think I'm twenty-one."

"Well, maybe not," Krillin admits, still smiling that smile of narrowed day-dreaming eyes and curled lips. "Still, it's been over a year. Your birthday must have happened during that time. Besides, Bulma already had an ID made for you with that age. So, congrats, now you can legally drink with us."

No one is more pleasantly surprised by Juuhachigou's laughter than the woman herself. "Now what will I wish for?"

441. Some Place That's Far Away and Strange

This time, Krillin felt only the slightest bit of pity for the woman. And she was a woman, no machine, he knew. She could feel, even this one, considering the fear in those same eyes. Only the clothes different from that figure he'd met on that tiny island.

The confusion on her face, so like the Juuhachigou from his time as he'd stepped out from the remains of the blown out building. Her work, all of this. Or half of it, anyway.

This time, he was able to actually use the remote, and watch all life slip from that pale blue. Stand above her, and find himself reaching for her.

Krillin knew why Trunks had brought him of all people to this timeline. To practically smell the ashes and see the bodies.

Almost touching, in this bizarre way. That he and almost certainly Bulma, cared enough to go through all this to try and convince him to change his mind about the cyborgs. Trunks had already killed Juunanagou, and waited for him. Watched with hard blue eyes, waiting.

As though this could somehow change his mind, and his heart. As though this hadn't only further cemented his decision. Juuhachigou, the Juuhachigou that Krillin knew, if never his, would never have done this. Maybe if things had been different, this blood on those hands would be hers. But it wasn't, and seeing this monster only proved how different the timelines had diverged.

But he was still here to irradiate evil, and even if it did bring a slight twinge to his chest seeing her fallen and in this state, it wasn't the right Juuhachigou. The wrong Juuhachigou. Separate, and different, and evil.

It hurt to kill her, but much less than any of the pain Krillin had experienced when facing the right Juuhachigou with this remote.

442. And don't you know I'm really good at making this feel awkward.

She'd finished setting up the contraption, but couldn't find any will to actually flick the domino and start it going. From her place behind the counter, the blonde could trace out its clear path, and there was not a single touch of excitement or interest in watching everything fall down. No matter how long she'd spent setting up the chords and stalks of celery to eventually knock over a melon on whoever walked through the backdoor (Juunanagou, who would be invited right at the exact moment). It was like setting off that bugbomb to finally kill off those wasps she'd hated and despised for so long; when it came down to it, she couldn't care much either way.

Already, was she getting depressed? Clinical? Depressed as Juuyongou after he'd gotten dumped? Manic as Gero when setting up, then like her brother after he'd played with his new toy for five minutes? Perhaps she might get a nice bout of agoraphobia that half the household suffered from? Teenage angst coming back around?

A quarter-life crisis already?

Juuhachigou was an adult. She had a non-fake ID to even prove it. Soon she would have a real job after she graduated, and a non-borrowed car to own, and an apartment with her name on the lease.

Rather than her life now.

Of waking up, say, on the couch of her house she lived in with way too many people, this old house of crumbling masonry in the middle of nowhere that was impossible to heat. Waking up after a night in front of the TV, or coming back too drunk to find her own bedroom in the maze that was the basement stuffed with walls made of wood or piles of junk and the half of that rusted car that Juunanagou had made his nest. Wake with a crease in her cheek, aware of her the rest of her life. Maybe somehow would be in the kitchen, making a racket, and if Gero was home, he would begin screaming at them all for being ingrates, ungrateful pigs that ate too much and used too much electricity, had they seen this bill, and who would have to pay for this?

If she had the sense of mind, she might run out or hide behind that couch or under her too-small bed. Fight her way under that bed, next to scratched CDs and warped records, stuffed with old shoes and torn notebook paper and always a spilled container of nail polish that was still somehow sticky, all better than going behind the couch filled with other people's unmentionables that could only be safely and sanely described as 'junk.'

Like the others. Especially when money was brought up. Such a reoccurring experience that they were all very good at it. Hide-and-seek games around here could get very intense, in fact; Juugogou was still currently missing from a game two days ago.

There would be a neat apartment. One or two bedrooms, depending on how she felt about her twin when looking for a place. She could close her eyes in this empty store, and ignore the smell of tomatoes, and see it all laid out in simple modern design. Her couch would have edges and no stains or burn marks from her falling asleep with a cigarette only to wake with a small fire going- to be blamed on one of her relations: the only one that was actually related to her through blood as no one would believe that Juunanagou wouldn't set a fire inside after witnessing him doing that very thing so many times.

A small car, constantly vacuumed out that wouldn't smell of Funions and burning and dirt. There would be wild animals kept inside or potted plants and suspiciously lumpy rolled rugs and not a single container of shockingly expensive bags of manure that Juurokugou brought from his job….Though, admittedly, they did have a ridiculously lush garden for being surrounded by miserable plots of dead land.

Then the bell hanging over the door rang.

He was back again, and she cursed and felt blessed for not having Juunanagou at her side. For once.

With him literally came light. Glowing, bathed in ethereal light, nearly blinding her with that shiny bald head. Had he gotten shorter? "Hi."

And she could say it then, for once, say back to him, "Hi."

Not exactly a wellspring, but still he was smiling back, and there were fireworks going off in her head. None of it was truly pleasant, Juuhachigou understood, clinically. Obsessive manic depressive with OCD that would never leave her house again because of the anxiety of…a boy saying hello to her.

The little things Juuhachigou had to cling to right now. At least she was sober and not egging houses at three in the morning on a school night. At least it hadn't been snowing out that would inevitably send her falling repeatedly to the ground, right, at least her ass didn't feel broken from falling fifteen times. At least she no longer had those braces, so slowly, finally, removed when she'd been fifteen. At least she felt tall enough to yes, be an adult, and had outgrown that training bra and knew that he blushed when she looked at him for too long.

Since she kept doing that.

A dumb, idiot that looked like a boy, but was actual a full grown adult man that stared at her too much, a creep, but one that she stared right back towards, and not in the unsettling, unblinking way she and her brother did to disturb babysitters when they'd been children. Well, probably not that way.

Juuhachigou had never known but intellectually, what people had meant when they talked about sexual tension or something as childish as a crush. And by the time she was able to disengage her actions and wonder why she wanted to pull his ears, rip them right off, and then repeat kissing him on that cheek, repeatedly kiss him all over his dumb

At least she knew his name, unlike some of her other crushes where they'd had personas that now physically gave her pain to remember.

Her book. Where was her book that she'd brought just for this purpose.

His hand was half-frozen and possibly stuck to the can of soda. Too busy prying it off to notice that she wasn't staring him down for once. Juuhachigou, sitting there, her book hiding her face because she was too busy with her own life to pay attention to this short dweeb.

("short and weird looking and with that dumb smile and why was he even bald and why did he dress that way and why am I still talking about him?" "dunno. maybe you like him? pass the funions.")

Normally Krillin got only the nerve-racking stare now. Could she be coquettish and smile and flirt and hold contact without throwing something at him or biking to his house, precariously holding a large carton of eggs in the basket.

Her stare. She had the palest eyes, sometimes commented on, to make her sneer, and was he brave or dumb to keep coming back here?

She stared at her book. When had she forgotten how to read? What language was this book even in, it was all swirls, and how loud was she breathing right now, exactly?

Coming back to her, stepping carefully over her dumb, dumb trap that she'd set up, was he understanding the slightest glance as she sat here and tried not to fall off the rickety stool. Because he was smiling, and she was a sap, Juuhachigou was flailing and it was horrible and all in her head. Cringing interiorly, wanting to almost apologize for what she'd done to his friends. As small talk. To break the ice. Because that's how you talked to guys, you reminded them that you'd frightened his friends when nearly killing them on a whim and perhaps reminded him that you could run him down as she nearly had on that road, at any time as well.

Because that worked out so well the last time she'd said that.

Well. He was back. That weirdo sap. This nutjob creep with the crush on her for nothing. How strange and dumb quietly sweet enough to lure her in and had weakened her in some way. Stabbed her and left her to bleed out and because this Juuhachigou that had to be breathing too loudly. She was illiterate and had shaky sweaty hands and kept staring, and was a mouthbreather, that's what he'd done to her.

What the hell was wrong with her face? Why was he looking at her like that?

Now she had to ring up his purchase

Krillin nearly dropped his soda, and it took actually courage to make eye contact and walk up to her. Therapy. She needed therapy and to lock herself in her room and never leave, no matter how much Juurokugou told her to get up and Gero screamed that she had a job to do and the store was her responsibility now get up or Juurokugou will overturn the bed.

Real grit was required from, Krillin had to grit his square jaw, to not run out but actually pay for his drink. Then they had to play their parts and act casual. They were in a play no one would want to watch, and neither had a script. Never before was she so conscious of both their hands and feet. Why were they so there and so weird looking? Hers were, anyway. His were neat, and should be smacked away if they got too close.

I think I'd like to hold your hand. If you ever knew, I'd have to kill both of us.

"You know, you come in here every day at the same time."

Accusing him of being a stalker. That's how Juuhachigou worked her charm.

The smart thing would have been to shrug and act normal. Or come up with a joke about caffeine addiction, or maybe even flirting a little by saying he was here to sightsee. Anything but something that would make Krillin yell, "I'm just here to get a drink!"

"You're here for something anyway."

Ball in his court.

Oh, god, why had she let the ball go in his even-more-awkward court?

No, oh, no, pass it back. Never give up any advantage.

"Juuhachigou? Why are you staring at me like that?"

"I'm just shocked that you're actually using your words rather than just staring at me and drooling. When did you learn to speak? Have you been taking lessons? Good for you."

"Well! You need to take lesson on proper customer service!"

Service. Oh god, that phrase was now embedded. This is pretty much literally a scene from a porno now. 'You want proper customer service? Come around the counter and see what service I can provide.' It was quite possibly the most perfect moment in her stunted sex life thus far. So of course it was wasted entirely, and would only be used later, when she was alone and behind a locked door.

Now all she could do was stand there and have a brief fantasy (and really, really, there were video cameras that worked periodically, and it was safer this way). While Krillin continued to air grievances rather than drop his pants.

"And I never drooled!"

"You think I didn't notice—and you're always here! Why can't you get your awful soda somewhere else? You have the worst taste."

"Yeah! Yeah, I do! In women!"

Yep. Fuck, why had he said that aloud, to her. Why? "Then why are you here? Did you just admit you're here to drool over me?"

"No! Especially not now."

"Oh, because you have some many other women just desperate for your company?"

"Anywhere would be better. With anyone. No one is as mean as you! You're completely heartless and cruel for no reason. Why did I even like you, when you treat me like this?"

Another person might have crumbled, rather than reaching for the baseball bat kept under the counter. "Then get out! You think I like having you here? Why would anyone?"

"I'm never coming back here again! Not ever!

"…so fine!"

She could only blink, having drifted such a great distance in such a short time. She even stood taller, closer to Krillin, to better tower over him and yell. Why was the holding this baseball bat? "What?"

"I thought you were going to say 'fine' and then—never mind! I'm leaving. Hopefully this soda won't explode all over me like the others ones I buy here. Yeah, even your soda sucks!"

"I hope you choke on your soda!" Screamed at his small back that went through the hugely loud door.

Innuendo just writhing in death throes on the floor.

My god, what had happened. Why the fuck was she still holding this bat? It was already splintering. Thankfully, she had brought that book to rest her forehead on rather than the sticky counter. The longest conversion they'd ever had too. And she hadn't even expected it to go this badly. Her textbook wasn't enough to properly do damage, no matter how hard Juuhachigou hit herself with it. A bottle. She needed a bottle and a brick to do some serious damage because that bat wouldn't handle a damn thing. Her brother would ask how her day went too, and if she'd seen her stalker around, and then she could roll around on the floor, groaning, like usual, and Juunanagou would never understand the full extent of this disaster. Now it would just be the real weirdoes that would come in and attempt speaking to her.

In her thirties. She would be in her thirties before she tried flirting with someone, that just settled it. God help that guy. From now on, just go back to ignoring and mocking all customs of dating like before. Act perfectly asexual and ignore any and all reminders of Krillin, because that had been serving her so well before. Serving. That word was so ruined now.

And now someone was coming in to buy cigarettes, because that's what she needed right now, to deal with customers and—Juuhachigou took the book away from her bruised head. Given herself a concussion. Stroke. Hallucination brought on by crazed hormones. No, those would be a kindness. Of course Krillin had come back. He was too polite not to apologize for insulting the store's selection of soda. And the way his clothes were stained purple as she'd only previous wondered about.

Staring at each other, and quietly.

Juuhachigou put the book down. "I've been shaking the grape sodas."

"Yeah, I got that."

"Even the ones in back."

"You planned it very well."

Don't ask why. Do not even dare it, Krillin. Please. Had he complimented her on his ability to mess up his afternoon?

"There's some paper towels over there."

Now she was going to make him buy his own paper towels for her sabotage.

"Thanks. No, I'll pay for it. I'm sorry. Really, I don't know what got into me. I shouldn't have said that. That was terrible of me. You're not heartless. Of course you wouldn't want some weird guy coming in here."

"You're not that bad."

"I can be." Full frontal eye contact.

"All you've done is buy some soda. And I still found a way to mess that up."

Krillin shrugged. Smiling. What happened to make her go from the woman that rolled her eyes at that to trying not to sigh loudly and feeling her knees go weak over that. He was just standing there, purple-stained and smiling, and it was completely doing it for her. "It was kind of funny, actually."

Now, this was going better than she would have thought. Yeah, this was a good moment. Clicking. Going right into the fantasy bank for later. Why get her thrills messing with him, and watching him laughing and enjoying his brief company? Because it was just in her nature, biological and beyond her control, a certain type that she couldn't change, not her fault. Because he was fucking hot and adorable, with a sexy hideous laugh, and dumb ears and she could do terrible things to that body, yeah, that was right, and she could state it mentally in his presence.

Because he was a hot adorable gentlemen. Someone that could laugh and forgive. Not really a pervert either.

"'Course, you could make it up to me."

"I have a bat right here, you know."

"Uhhg! I just meant, you know, we could go somewhere. With soda that hasn't been shaken. Together."

Juuhachigou still wasn't sure if he was trying to get into her pants, and wondered why she might try to dissuade him. "What?"

"When you get off shift, we could, um, maybe catch dinner? Or a movie. Or both. Dunno." He was looking away, cheeks already flushed. Grabbing at his neck and looking everywhere but at her. "Dunno if you would be interested in any of that."

"Alright. Right now."

"Now? Really? You don't have to stay here. Really?"

"Hm, please. C'mon." Oh, so satisfying to grab his shirt, and he could never know how she peaked at his chest and felt her own heart go into cardiac arrest at the contact as she dragged him outside. "And I'm not going to see any dumb romantic comedies either. Don't make me regret leaving the bat behind."

Krillin looked like she really had hit him a few times. "Piranhacano 3D it is. You're not going to lock up? Uh, you're going to rip my shirt. Is it okay to leave the store open like that?

"Juuhachigou?

"It's called 3D, not just because you have to wear those glasses, but it's also the third one. I don't even think the special effects are very good, but where else can you see a volcano exploding out piranhas?"

"And in 3D nonetheless."

Juuhachigou was utterly inspired that her smiling back at him could make grin. So there was some benefit to liking a guy less comfortable in his body than she was. Plus, really, those arms of his. What did the rest of him look like under that shirt? Why did he even have to bother with sleeves, no matter how dumb being sleeveless might look on him.

"Juuhachigou."

She forgave him for that physical contact when Krillin stopped her from walking right into a telephone pole, and he was kind enough to not mock her for being so distracted by him.

443. I seem to find myself with the craziest of dames

They get the ball on me,

I do forget the chains

Krillin couldn't entirely believe it was a date, but what else could it be considered? Sitting here, if separated by the span of this hospital room, exchanging personal information and laughing, how many dates went something along those lines?

He put his hands behind his head before he could check whether or not they shook. "How old are you?"

"By the years on this planet?" Orange perfect eyebrows came together in thought. "Around two-hundred years, I believe."

"…you're how old now?"

She laughed, wincing at the pain but still holding that grin. Bandages and all, Zangya was stupidly attractive. Sometimes, he'd see her, and almost want to squeal at her like she was a small puppy. Between the accent, and the hair, and really, her voice, Krillin was smitten.

"Zangya. That's not your name though, is it?"

"It was not the name I was born with, no. And you, how old are you Earthling?"

Not in so many years had he felt so young. As though he were thirteen, and about to fight in his first tournament, so conscious of how tall others were. "Um. In my thirties."

Different from any other woman in his life, this dumb schoolboy feeling. No, it was familiar to what he'd experienced before. Hardly even a teenager, and stricken by dark blue eyes, her pretty name, and not yet understanding what craziness a crush might do to him. Maybe like Maron, though of course Zangya was a hundred times more dangerous, and so much easier to talk to.

He could almost forget straight blonde hair in exchange for that orange curly neat-mess.

Too straight pale hair that would fall into her eyes and have to be swept back by a pale hand. Not blue in the least.

Should he just admit it? What he'd been thinking, when he saw any woman, when was always there in the back of his mind? Go ahead; think about her and focus on the differences, that there are blue eyes and blue eyes, and who was taller (Zangya) and who had more curves (Zangya) and who was possibly prettier (Juuhachigou).

Oh, but why even compare the two? Both were dazzling women, strange and untouchable, and neither would be interested in him in any way. Juuhachigou had turned and left, and never returned, despite her offhand remark that she would see him later. Later. How much later? How much longer?

Both were aware of his wretched ill-fitting crushes.

But Zangya laughed it off. Would tease him over his stares, and seemed so curious, so quick to joke and play off any discomfort or fear of her new life.

But this is still the woman that had sat there (and Krillin had seen the footage after all, and heard the others talk of it) while Gohan was tortured and had helped her friends hurt his own, with all intentions of allowing it.

Not even Juuhachigou and Juunanagou had done that.

Krillin could remember that, and hang onto that, hold it as a talisman.

444. Who Do You Carry The Torch For, Young Man? Do You Carry It Around Just To Burn Things Down?

She had never known it, this rage.

It was only so rarely mentioned in the files that Gero had programmed into her. Only scarcely touched on, snippets of videos of him when fighting, only mentioned briefly in passing, and then hidden with the information that he tended to forgive not as easily as Son, of his meager strength, of his sensitive nature and jokes meant to comfort himself and others, of his techniques and weaknesses.

And even when fighting Cell, Juuhachigou hadn't fully understood it. Not even that anger on his round face as he'd stepped out to confront her.

He was Krillin, Kuririn, and prone to outburst of hysteria or laughter, not anger.

She would have thought she'd be the angrier one, and that was true in general, but not now.

Now is this crumbling world and the taste of copper in her mouth that reminds her of something she cannot say. Now is the stickiness in her hair that she cannot wipe away as it slides down her forehead and into her eyes and turns her vision red since she cannot blink.

She is alive and still aware. This time, it is different than the before, the remote had been modified by that smirking worm of a scientist, that doctor. The weakling. If he hadn't snuck up as she'd been so distracted with Krillin, with his laughter as they found each other again, as he told her what had happened to the others and that everyone was alright…

"What did you do to her?"

But this is the man that had fought Vegeta after watching his friends die, and had almost stabbed the Saiyan in the back.

It should not be such a surprise to find him prepared to save her once again. This side that he might hide and repress and be scared away by others stronger, but it is still there, no matter how Krillin might pretend otherwise as he grabs the other man's neck and says a ridiculous threat that they all believe he is capable of, regardless.

Nor is it a shock to find herself pissed at being in such a state, the anger a welcome reprieve.

Even as he frees her from another cage and finds himself facing her now, not a cringing non-warrior, but a person that holds his own life in her arms, both feeling the electricity. A fighter that could pull his guts out, and make him see them in her hands, red and black. A cyborg created for death and his death partially in particular. A woman.

His shoulders in her hands. Eyes soaking in the blue of her power. A wince on his round face that she knew so completely it would be all Juuhachigou could see. Meaningless, all of this.

"Did you think I need you to protect me? You, of all people?"

"Juuhachigou. C'mon. That's not fair."

"Does it make you feel like a real man, for once? Do you think I need you?"

Krillin wretched away, his own ki rising, acting like he'd already forgotten about the literal blood still staining his own hands. "Sometimes, everyone needs help. That's all."

445. You Seemed To Be In Love With Me, Which Isn't Very Realistic

It took too long, but eventually, Bulma managed to figure out where she went wrong.

From there, she assured everyone, it was just finding out how to fix it.

"I'll make a second controller. Just wait and see. Then we'll be able to pry Juuhachigou off him, and hose her down with the garden hose outside. Then him."

"Eugh."

These blue eyes were filled with compassion, as they were in whatever timeline. Though, normally, his own mother tended to only show such pity when seeing the destruction the androids had wrought through their own dying world. "Sorry about the details, Trunks. But you spent time in the future, with them killing everything. At least she isn't breaking his neck. Yet."

It wasn't like his mother had even been exaggerating. Juuhachigou did look to be hanging onto Krillin way too tightly. He would change colors with alarming frequency, and Trunks was reminded of the rumors of her flirting before murdering another innocent person. A frightened, cowering man, usually on the shorter side-God, had she a type? Was there a reason, a string of logic to this madness?

For all her supposed kindness towards Krillin, those eyes could immediately turn that steel and ice. "Stop watching, perverts. Bring my brother back if you want an android to make out with. He did say he liked your purple hair."

Trunks wanted to shave his head immediately.

But then, look at where that had led Krillin.

"Juu. Juuhachigou. C'mon. You have to get off me." He didn't sound alarmed in the least, and the half-Saiyan was disgusted and disappointed in him. Hadn't he been there, for the warnings, and to watch this machine beat up him and his father? Krillin had even been there when she and her twin and the third android (who, admittedly, might not be that bad and was apparently defective in that way) had arrived to challenge Goku to a fight. They would have murdered him, if the tall man had been there.

"What if I don't want to?" Her voice was husky, and Trunks nearly dry-heaved while Bulma shook her head with a grimace.

Krillin was holding her hands, keeping them off his chest or neck. Smart. "After the remote is fixed. Oh, who am I kidding? You won't want to even look at me after. In fact, I don't think I'll be able to be around you again, because you'll snap my neck the next time we meet."

The shorter fighter looked distraught, for perhaps the wrong reason. "But it's the right thing. I know it is."

"Mom. Bulma. Would you please get started?" So we can end this. One way or another.

"Snap your neck? That seems a waste. And why wouldn't I want to see you again? I happen to like looking at your ridiculous face."

"Why?"

As though he didn't know, as though hoping he didn't know.

"It's attached to a nice body. Plus that mouth." She was doing terrible things with her finger. To his face. "You have that tongue."

Nearly everyone but the androids suffered a short stroke.

"I can't tell which part of that was crazier." Krillin sounded distant, remote, as he looked towards the window. Such a nice clear day that didn't reflect the mood in this room. There should have been a hurricane in a tsunami with houses being picked up and carried off to disorienting heights. Only to fall and crash on the orphans and puppies and, well, Krillin.

"And I like the way you look at me." Disturbing, as well, how the machine could sound almost sincere, amused and affectionate. Smiling at him, eyes turned up, as though she didn't have programming and parts installed by a mad men. Finger still on his face, tracing his cheek, acting like she couldn't crush his head with one hand and no effort.

"Um. Guys." Bulma had turned the blueprints around again. "You know. I think I have to make another device to turn things back on. See, what I did turned off the emotion inhibitor. It's right by this little switch here, basically identical to the one that should turn her off."

Juuhachigou was the only one quite okay with that arrangement. "Hm. No wonder I feel so much better. Now, how about we go make me feel even better, Krillin?"

"Make another controller, Mom," Trunks ordered.

A tear-eyed Krillin had to nod, not looking at anyone but Juuhachigou even now. "…make another controller, Bulma."

446. Disagreeing About Sexual Tension

With one push, and Juuhachigou eyes were widening, impossibly blue, meeting his for a brief second before her fist flung out and nearly knocked his jaw off, sending him flying apart from her as she hadn't wanted for the past few hours.

"What the hell was that?"

Bulma had already dropped behind her desk.

Before Krillin could join her, the android had cornered him. Already, he was bleeding. "It's not—I wasn't-Miss Juuhachigou! Please. Oh, please, no, I'm sorry."

Trunks had to physically move between them, as he hadn't dared do before. "You don't remember anything, android?"

She ignored him, reaching around Trunks to claw at Krillin, nearly taking out an eye. "You."

The half-Saiyan watched Bulma pop up to watch the show. "And I thought Vegeta was moody." Then she winced when Juuhachigou darted around Trunks, and Krillin really had no chance to run away from her. Even going Super Saiyan only moderately made it easier to pull the blonde machine off the short human who pleaded for mercy.

"Don't hurt anyone, Juuhachigou! Don't you remember what happened?" Sweaty, bruising and cuts unclotted, Krillin was still trying reason.

Then Trunks had to close his eyes when Juuhachigou tried to break his nose.

"Juuhachigou!"

The face of nightmares. The face of a machine before she destroyed another city, went on another rampage. They should have killed her. Distracted her with Krillin, and killed her. Trunks' sword, dented from the last time he fought her, was somewhere in Capsule Corp, and would have been the right weapon to use. Justice, finally. "The last thing I remember is you using that emergency shutdown controller!"

"I did not!"

"Yes, you did! You think I don't remember you jumping out behind a rock with that thing!"

"Well. It wasn't an shutdown controller. Tell her, Bulma."

What little of the bright hair that could be seen was shaking. "Leave me out of this."

"Bulma. Bulma. You have to explain things…"

She had lapsed into talking to herself, as he'd seen his own mother do so many times as she tinkered with the unfixable. "I don't even want to use that controller again. Even if it a little easier to deal with her when she only wanted to have her way with Krillin."

"What?"

When Trunks finally tossed Juuhachigou meters away, Krillin had to rush after and check on her, and of course her response for that kindness was another attempt at murder. "What did you do to me?"

"Either way, it's bad."

447. Your Robot Heart Is Bleeding

"This is all the fever."

She could hear him from far away, and had to press her forehead into his shoulder, seeking even moderately coolness.

"Really, Bulma, Missus Briefs, I'll collect them. She's sick, you see. So what if she tried to lead some of those cleaning robots outside? Maybe she though they needed air? She said something about equal rights for them? Um.

"A rebellion, isn't that a little harsh a word for it? Okay. Maybe she did arm them. But it was the fever. It's not like they stabbed anyone. Except for Vegeta. But he's fine."

"She's not going to bring about the end of humanity, you know.

"Not anymore."

448.

Lux aeterna luceat eis, Domine,

O Lord

cum sanctis tuis in aeternum,

quia pius es.

Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine,

et lux perpetua luceat eis,

cum santis tuis in aeternum,

quia pius es.

Mozart's Requiem—Communion

Juuhachigou walked through the remnant of the city, weighed down by the blood and dust on her clothes, and everything she'd seen. Had it been a week? Seven days, if there were such things here?

No one saw her.

Not anymore.

Their eyes hadn't been the same milky blue of her and her brother, of the other androids. Or the dark eyes of the fighters on Earth, browns and greys that were nearly black, or blue of the Briefs woman and her child and that nameless young man who had fought her by those mountains.

They were a terrible green. Pupil-less. darker than grass, darker than the green that Saiyan's eyes could become. They had seen and watched the others passing. Had there been fear on what passed as their faces, or surprise, or disbelief or disdain? Did certain streaks of silver mean anything in particular, or were they this race's version of freckles? Or scars? The crumbling buildings dark with ash hid whoever remained.

Juuhachigou kept moving, waiting to hear the ship take off (would it make enough noise?), waiting as she had so many times

Krillin, telling her of timelines and of ridiculous lilac haired boy wielding swords and what she and her brother had done.

And she had thought that she and her brother were inhuman, but now she saw the truth. Form as function, as she'd once sneered at Krillin for believing. They were human, too human, metal pieces and inability to age and the ability to know fear and to laugh and have fun and yes, yes, had she not been hurt when he'd turned away from her, after seeing what she'd done to whatever this race might be named?

She had wanted to cup his cheek, as her sensors told her of the slightest pain in her fingers from the acid in the alien blood, But they were going to hurt you and what was that, if not human? Absolution and shame and simple pleasure of seeing his smile to know he was okay, seeking comfort

and now this stabbing feeling in her stomach coming again

Feeling electricity in her fingers, and we could rule this place, if it were anything worth ruling

if only my brother were here

This hate she had, for these panicked aliens that had attacked, her hate for the Saiyan Prince and his woman and the way they fought and fucked too loudly, and the angry teenager with his dumb name and glares, and the two children thankfully back on Earth that were doted on and her idiotic lost brother and him most of all for bring her here and for his stories and jokes and gleam in dark eyes and his laughter and blushes and

Him, that had burrowed into her skin and left her weakened. So eager to forgive and sit near her and talk, the balm of his gaze between the hate from the other two men and Bulma's irrelevance. How she hated and could be comforted by certain pairs of dark eyes and a pairs of blue eyes.

Would Krillin come find her? Would he leave her behind? The two sides to him in battle: a coward who hated to fight and the fighter that used guile and tricks and could have the worst smirk she'd ever seen on a human. Things she knew about him, that she had no right to possess knowledge of, fights she'd never seen, his voice saying things that weren't meant for her ears.

Remembering lying in the sun, of peace. These brief moments.

She seemed too young, given her absence of memories, the face she saw back in the mirror, to feel so tired. Older, if still physically untouched by time. A hundred years she might have. A thousand?

And what memories might she accumulate in such a time?

Could she wander here, for an eternity, even after the sun died and the atmosphere was further ruined and there was only blackness. Walking in a walking dream until there was nothing left to rest her feet on. Could she die, as any mortal might: by the environment.

I don't want to die here.

At least there was that. A flicker of at least realization that she wanted to die in sunlight.

Better for everyone to have never been awakened in that lab. And why not? What did she have to keep her waking up in sunlight? A brother that no longer seemed to talk to her anymore. Whatever other family Juuhachigou might have had along with a name was long gone. She could even ignore the revenge_revenge_revenge command that is nearly sliding from her head as though it hadn't been programmed in. Her past was gone.

Now she was…

Free?

Now Juuhachigou had what, a dead companion that had hardly existed before a meaningless death? 'Friends' that feared her and wouldn't mourn her? The mission she rejected the moment she'd been born. A job? That man who had wanted to be her lover, had she not so thorough ruined that so purposefully, a man that had wanted and perhaps might have offered a different Juuhachigou a home and a few dark-haired children to run underfoot? As though she had wanted any of that. Any of that obligation and chains.

Of course I have no idea what exactly I want.

What might have been buildings a century ago on all sides. Ugly.

But I don't want this.

Better to have just lived whatever life she might have had before Gero, no matter how short it might have been. Died before Before and After, became a fixture in her mind, when a line was drawn between her and the rest of the human race.

But when had she cared for anything altruistic, for the greater good, for the Earth? For herself, for that matter.

And really, did she want to spend an eternity in this oblivion? Had she really wanted to claim and ruin this place further, this shit planet that would have made a pathetic kingdom and playground for her and Krillin?

She had untold years to find what might grow beneath her programming. To find what she might do. She has years, and can see even in the darkness due to the machinery, and has blond hair to her shoulders and medium height in human terms and no scars and sometimes a disquieting wiggle inside her guts that no algorithms implanted will explain because Gero could not have foreseen her getting crushes, of all things. If that was what that was.

His cheek pressed into her hands, and protectiveness and the urge to pull him closer and purr, and alright, I think I might want that. That, and to remember what it was to hunt and search, even in pale imitations. Sun, and the smell of salt.

Like any wounded animal might, Juuhachigou returned back to the nearest thing she had on this planet to a home. To a herd.

She was surprised by their presence, their voices and forms that were real. How weak her knees might become, looking at them.

Vegeta gave her only a sneer before turning his back.

At least Bulma looked ready to throw something at her. "You done pouting?"

Another simple thing that Juuhachigou realized was a truth, again. "Yes."

"Finally. Jeez, we're way too far off from Namek. We'll never get there on schedule. You think I like wandering around this dusty hellhole?! With my little boy at home, waiting for me? Not to mention, all this terrible traveling, it's even more boring than when we were at Old Namek."

Her mate paused from his pacing to give her a look parts disbelieving and angry and shockingly amused.

"Plus it's been forever since I've taken a decent bath?"

"Oh, really." Her voice was almost her old self. "You broke a nail, is that it?"

"Oh, shut up."

"C'mon, Juuhachigou. We were waiting for you. Vegeta wanted to take off and leave you behind. And Krillin was out looking for you, for hours."

"Where is he?"

"Inside. Passed out, really."

The implication being that she'd practically knocked him out herself. As though trying to guilt Juuhachigou. Impossible to care about something so small. But she'd been telling herself something like that since before even stepping onto this planet, since waking up on that white tile with the last thing on her mind was sliding into her own death.

In that moment, outside of her own mortality (that she had not known what to do for the first time ever in her short life) and panic that was endless and worse, because it would end, Krillin must have been watching, and Juuhachigou wondered if he'd regretted not using that remote. Himself thrown at Cell, and repelled so easily, and looking now little like this man here, with mussed hair and perfection and warmth that she hadn't experienced since setting off on this trip. Before then.

"Juu?"

His only reaction to her presence was to wrap an arm around her, and that was enough.

Later, he would wake up, and she might have to explain a little of where she'd gone, and why she was back. But for now, Juuhachigou could live with pushing that wave of dark hair off his forehead, seeing how his mouth pursed as he dreamed of whatever went through that head, feeling the sheets and wondering how badly she was dirtying them, and whether or not to slip off to take a quick shower.

Another moment, too brief, of empty peace.

One ruined of course by that annoying half-Saiyan supposedly from the 'future,' wandering in to check on his friend. Earlier, she might have almost been afraid of being seen like this, of being around the demi-Saiyan in general and his poorly restrained anger at her very existence. "Krillin? Eugh. What are you two doing?"

Once, she might have pretended it wasn't exactly what it was, and Juuhachigou almost pitied what she had been doing rather than telling whoever looked at her like this boy did exactly how much she cared. "Shut up and leave us alone."

After all, she might as well start figuring out what she wanted.

449. Found Eighteen Reasons Not To Pick Up The Phone

Three years spent training had left him as broad as ever, stronger than ever, and his friends besides him were the same.

Yet, Krillin still breathed a sigh of relief, too loud, almost audible over Vegeta's seething cry of rage.

It was the safest thing to do, no matter what the others might have said back when that stranger with the purple hair, the new Saiyan, had arrived. Safest to not open that Pandora's Box, and simply destroy it, push it out to see, and he saw a dark box ingrained with patterns to a dead language being tipped from a boat into the black sea. Mission complete. He threw another ball of energy, almost relishing letting it fly and watching another part of the steep hills encrusted with snow come tumbling down. Not since he was a boy did he so relish his own strength, and Krillin could even holler and laugh and see his own breathe rising before itself; a reminder that he was still alive.

He watched the entire mountain side crumbling down, see the dust rising, heard Gero's dying scream as he failed to reach the androids in time and Piccolo's own blast took whatever was left of him, and the short man couldn't even feel the cold anymore, so large was his joy that they'd finally defeated the androids after all, that they'd saved the day.

450. Come Share My Candy Bar, Come By On My Team

It had started off a mean joke that went on too long, after Krillin told them, blurted out in a residue of fear and panic and smothered hope, that he still had even now, what Juuhachigou had done to him on the side of the highway. All of them had looked disturbed, that he hadn't fought, that all that had happened to him was just a simple kiss, with only Future Trunks nodding and saying that the future Juuhachigou would treat men she liked as toys. A disgusted, strange idea that made Krillin's stomach go cold.

He could only wonder what happened to those guys. What she did to them. They might have been happy. Briefly happy.

-Of course was only toying with him. Another sign of her batting the fighters around.

But it was after Bulma found out that Krillin knew he should have kept what happened to him to himself, repressed and buried it and let it manifest itself in a fear of blonde women.

"Oh, great." It sucked that she was on speakerphone so everyone could hear it. "Now Krillin's going to get a crush on her. You wanna ask her out, Krillin? Maybe ask her to dinner? Get her to switch sides through seduction?"

Leave it to Bulma to make a joke of it. A terrible joke that shouldn't have crushed him so hard. "I never said any of that!"

"Yeah, that's how we'll beat those androids: Krillin's sexual prowess."

The short fighter was doing his best not to sink into his seat and pout. "Are you done?"

"I don't think Gohan needs hear this." Chi-Chi was all disapproving while Gohan stared confused, at his friend. "I don't think any of us need to hear this."

"You can finally defeat one of our enemies. Hell, let's use him as bait."

Yamcha laughing didn't help with anything.

But Trunks speaking up, adding thoughtfully, too thoughtfully, that Juuhachigou did have a fondness for guys she thought were cute, and clothes. Her two weaknesses. Things that distracted her, and did in fact serve as bait for the androids. A trap could be set.

"For real?" Yamcha was glancing over his shoulder for confirmation.

"Are we really going to do this?" Bulma's voice was serious, for once.

"Use Krillin for bait for that monster? That seems highly unethical." Chi-Chi was disapproving, and Krillin had never been so glad to hear it. "On the other hand, if it saves my Gohan and gives Goku enough time to recover…"

"Hmm. Is she cute, Krillin?"

Could feel the sweat growing on his neck, sticking to his fingers when he rubbed it off fruitlessly. "Sure—no, I'm not answering that!"

"Is she?"

"Eh."

The tone in the half-Saiyan's voice made Krillin have to speak up. In defense of Juuhachigou, Kami only knew why. It was the truth after all, that she was in fact cute. Psychotic and frightening, but cute. Frustratingly conventionally attractive. Strange, with those pale eyes and the mechanical parts…and apparently her taste in men. Oh god. "She's pretty. Alright? If she weren't a monster—"

Oh god.

"So, you're into her. She's into you. Maybe." The scientist made it sound so reasonable.

Yamcha patted him on the back, making Krillin flinch. "Hey. You're always talking about getting a girlfriend."

"You're all insane! What, what exactly are you guys saying? You're going to just leave me somewhere, and what? What? Just think she'll change sides and be a good guy if I ask her out?"

"You'll have to do more than that." Horrifying, the grimness in Trunks' voice.

Bulma offered more advice, but not for him, "Maybe we'll tie you up beforehand."

"Gohan definitely doesn't need to hear this."

"I agree. We should all stop talking."

"Gohan, dear, cover your ears."

"Okay, we tie Krillin up to something, and leave him for the android. While she's distracted, would you guys be able to take care of the other machine?"

"There's two others, actually."

The voice on the speakerphone dropped a little. "…would Krillin work when it comes to them too?"

"Hey! The other two are guys!"

"…would it?"

"Maybe," Trunks offered, only mildly dubious.

Krillin's mind shut down, shut off, protecting itself from any images. "Oh god. This isn't funny anymore, you guys."

"So, could we offer clothes and Krillin to the girl android, as a way to convince her not to go after Goku?"

"I don't think that would be enough, Mom—Bulma. At best he might distract her while we defeat her twin."

"Twin? Juunanagou's her twin?"

"Yes. What did you think he was? At least in the future, they're siblings, but I don't see why that would have changed in this timeline. Besides, they still look alike."

"Huh. Makes sense. I thought they were dating or something, since they're so close in age." But yes, the resemblance was so clear that now Krillin felt like an idiot. An idiot that was being pushed into some horrible arrangement with the unknowing Juuhachigou. This was somehow such safer ground, to contemplate.

"So that's another bridge we've already crossed. Running out of excuses to take one for the team, Krillin." Bulma had no right to sound so smugly amused.

Not safe ground. He had been walking at the tip of Earth's northern most point. Ice was swiftly cracking and would send him plunging into freezing depths: Juuhachigou's gaze.

Did she even actually like him? That kiss had purely been just a brief joke for her. Surely she wasn't into him? There was no way, for instance, that she was wherever, possibly murdering people, and gushing about her new crush on that short guy and hoping that she spotted him again. This said to her twin, while they butchered innocents. Bloodstained hands going to tuck her hair away and gesture to emphasize how cute she thought that bald one was.

"You all know this is bizarre, right? There's no way she would actually like me. That kiss was just a prank for her, really."

"Say, Trunks, what type of guys was that future version of the android into?"

"I dunno. What was found of them, when we pieced together what happened, well. They looked scared. That's all they really had in common. Maybe dark hair? If it wasn't just burnt…"

Krillin had never been so glad to have shaved his head.

But Trunks had to continue. "And maybe they did tend to be shorter…or was it that they were missing…"

Was it better or worse, to hear him trail off like that when seeing Krillin's expression?

"It won't come to that though. We have your back, man. We won't let her kill you or anything."

"Right. This is plan B, for if Goku doesn't have enough power to take on all three of the androids? You have help defeat at least one of them. If not turn her to your side. Hey, it's what I did for Vegeta. Sort of."

"I didn't need to hear that." The future version of her son was now deciding to draw lines.

Yamcha agreed, "None of us needed to hear that."

Chi-Chi had her own little remark to add. "Arranged marriages used to be very popular, you know."

The world spun.

"I have to marry her now?!"

This was the cruelest joke that had occurred to him yet. His imagination, usually so quick to provide painful mental images, fled from him. Not even his mind could conceive of Juuhachigou in a white fluffy dress, preparing to wed him. Nearly as bad as being thrown to the wolves, in the form of the other androids, no, no, all of them were wolves.

"Well, that depends on how far you two take it. You're going to be gentleman, I assume."

"Oh my god."

"Take responsibility. Though I suppose the machine can't get pregnant."

"My god."

"Oh, Chi-Chi, I don't think she'll want to marry Krillin."

"What? 'Course she won't, c'mon, Chi."

"Yeah, Missus Son, I definitely don't see her marrying Krillin."

"She's just using you for your body. Sorry buddy. But hey, if you think she's cute…"

"I know how that is. Maybe she'll get attached. Well, if you got her pregnant with a little toaster she might tolerate living with you."

"You're all the worst! I'm not doing anything. With her. Or any of the other androids. Do you understand how crazy this is?"

"Alright, so what's the plan?" The blue-haired scientist's voice was crisp as she spoke over Krillin. "Tie him up, cover him with credit cards and gift certificates? Cover him only in money?"

When the others gave him considering looks, and Gohan finally pulled his hands away from his ears to help them catch him, Krillin knew the joke had gone on too long. Often he wished he were stronger, but not when faced with his friends. "Guys. Guys. This isn't funny."

And it wasn't. To any of them, given that none were smiling or laughing. Nor were they amused or amusing when they grabbed Krillin, promising him that his sacrifice wouldn't be in vein.

"Take one for the team-

"-Like I did with Bulma."

"-Like I did with Yamcha."

Showing off the brains Gohan had that were obviously from her side of the family, Chi-Chi wisely continued without a glance at silent Yamcha or the obviously seething speakerphone. "…if we could turn even one to our side, that might be enough. And would her brother attack her? What if he sided with her? Then we could have two more allies, so my Goku could recover."

Trunks' hand was heavy on his shoulder. "Your sacrifice won't be in vein."

"They did turn on their Gero, and didn't murder you guys. And you keep talking about meeting a girl and getting married, before dying."

"I didn't mean that I wanted that to be the death of me!"

"She might be, anyway." There was no laughter in those blue eyes. Krillin found some odd reassurance in that grim face, despite everything. This man wouldn't have pushed him into this if he didn't think there was no other way, and no one knew the androids better. Well, maybe Krillin might considering he'd been non-painfully touched by one and held a conversation with another.

"We're going to find her. One way or another, we have to."

"Before they find us."

"You're our android whisperer, buddy." Bulma sounded confident, before continuing. "Don't make any bad jokes in front of her. Try not to sweat. Or grin that one way. Or stare. And drool. What are you wearing? That gi? Is it too late to take him shopping?"

"Yes."

"I didn't ask you Krillin."

He saw something horrible in his future. A trip to the mall, to buy Kami-didn't-want-to-know-what. Undoubtedly embarrassing. Worse than this moment right now.

"Okay, okay, what exactly do these two look like? How old? There have been some weird things showing up on the police tracker. They're probably headed for Goku, aren't they?" Bulma was already plotting things out, tracing a map….

"Let's just go to Goku's."

…Overthinking things.

"Right, that's where they're headed. We can meet them there."

The roads searched, and Krillin had never wished more for total destruction of any area. Or hoped for someone to be flying. They'd miss each other, and this could be chalked up as another joke. A really mean joke. One that the others would remind him of, should they not be all murdered by those androids.

"Is that them?"

"No."

"Is that them?"

"No."

"You didn't even look that time."

Trunks was the designated Android Hunter of the bunch, and he found them with very little effort.

Because the universe did not love nor particularly like Krillin.

How many times had he convinced himself of that fact, over and over again. He had died twice, after all, once through a broken neck by a demon, and the other time he'd been blown up by a lizard space emperor. Plus the various beating over the years, from the older monks from toddlerhood on, to nearly getting stabbed in the neck by a tiny version of a monster made from a collection of cells, some of which even belonged to himself. And had been gored once. And was an orphan.

The others were the first to see her, as he was too busy crouching and rocking himself back and forth, covering his eyes and hoping that the nightmare would end soon.

"Hm."

"Is that them? The bikers?

"No."

"The trucker-looking group in the back there?"

"No."

"They're the skinny teenagers right there…by that giant guy with mohawk?"

Her in that restaurant. Juuhachigou, sitting down and plotting their deaths, while eating pancakes with her brother. Adorable and catastrophic, and possibly still wearing that skirt.

Chi-Chi took one glance. Then another. "This isn't going to work."

Yamcha was way too blatantly looking her over. Krillin wanted to slap him, on her behalf. "Um. Perhaps we overestimated her feelings."

"Eh. I still believe in you."

"Me too, Krillin."

There was something just wrong with high-fiving a ten-year-old over his chances of supposed seduction with a woman. But he would take what support he could get. Looking at his friends, Krillin could almost feel brave. Wasn't this what he wanted, after all? In so many ways?

What if after all. What if. Why not?

Then he turned his head, and caught a glimpse of pale gold, and it took both Yamcha and Gohan to catch him and drag him back.

Trunks turned only slightly, when they brought him back. Though he could have ended Krillin's struggles easily, he kept his hands at his sides. "Can't blame him."

"Don't make a scene," Yamcha hissed, patting him on the back. "Look, do you want her to find you this way?"

He swallowed back his tears, as best he could. "No."

"No. This won't do. Plan B. Of…plan B."

Chi-Chi, with an oddly maternal hand, straightened his shirt. "Right. Well now that you're a mess…I suppose it makes you look braver. Say you got back from saving…destroying something? What does she hate?"

"Us?" Trunks offered.

"Tell her…tell her you hate Goku too! And you're preparing to change sides to help her. And—give her a fake address so she won't actually go after Goku."

"She won't believe any of that."

As though he could somehow sell an elaborate story. Or any story. He had been terrified enough of speaking to her (around her, really) the first time, and that was before the kiss. The Kiss. His curse and his reward, damnation and heaven. How could he even open his mouth and do anything but sputter or sigh in her presence. And then Juuhachigou would murder him. "I think we're better off telling the truth."

"Which is?"

Could have bitten his own lips off. Everyone was just staring at him. Waiting. "Oh. You bastards. You know."

"Then it won't be so bad."

"Which car is it even?"

"The police scanner said something. Something about a pink van?"

"We have to be careful about bystanders. At least they're not at a carnival. Or a circus. Or an amusement park."

They liked amusement parks? And riding around in pink vans? These were the scary androids, really? Were they running people down in those bumper cars at least?

Give me something to work with here.

Their car was right there, with a broken window and some dents. The 'how's my driving' sticker never seemed like more of a joke. A terrible, cruel joke that the androids would really only be half in on. But the fates definitely got the entire thing, and knew it was a real hoot.

No amount of pleading would do any work, he knew. The last hope of the planet seemed to rest in him, on parts that really, had never had so much relying on them. Which, oh boy, only brought forth more insecurities. What if she—no, there was no way this wasn't going to end with him dying. The simplest things such as her just not liking short guys, or brunettes or not being in the mood, or yes, even going along with things, she might kill him after wards. Trunks had admitted she was a black widow.

But then, these androids hadn't killed anyone besides Gero yet. Perhaps there was a way to stop them, to turn them, before it was too late.

When the others found them, Chi-Chi was carrying a disturbing amount of ribbon. The sack of bows in particularly haunted Krillin. He didn't need any insight to know what they were for, and didn't bother wasting any strength hoping she was just getting a start on holiday shopping.

There was not much need for words, as though they had been plotting when he'd turned his back for a millisecond.

Bulma had to twist that knife, even if she couldn't see what was going on. Yelling loudly from the speaker in the car. "Look at that, Krillin. There's an entire group of people wanting to undress you."

Krillin wept as silently as possible.

It really wasn't something Gohan should have seen, let alone participated in.

They all remembered many holiday presents so expertly wrapped, and now forever tainted.

It was a good thing Chi-Chi hadn't continued fighting much, because she might have become the next Vegeta of the group. It was those three years, maybe, living with Piccolo. And Goku.

Stripped in a parking lot, and redressed in long ribbon (orange, with blue bows, some with tiny turtles printed on them, and Chi-Chi had the darkest sense of humor) covered with bows, and he damned them all. Felt damned. All that strength and training, to rip the clothes from a man to offer him up as a sacrifice for an android. Years of technological advances, and people were still sacrificing virgins to the gods.

The pink van was a gaping maw, and he'd forgotten completely that Yamcha had been a bandit until he was jimmying the lock. Which was just to show off, because one of the windows had been shattered.

His friends were right outside. This is what they said to reassure him, while tapping gift cards onto him. They would never let anything so bad happen to him. They had promised. Trunks had sworn to help distract the other two, and even Yamcha had agreed.

And yet.

He was a gift. A giant present that he knew he should open himself, if it weren't for the fighters outside waiting for Juuhachigou to undo all his bows and ribbons and to somehow become a better person for it.

They, his ex-friends, hadn't left him his underwear, and the ribbons seemed to be loosening in the worst places.

It was very cold in that van, and did not encourage Krillin.

Now there was only waiting and trying to get comfortable, and wishing they hadn't covered his mouth so much with a giant ribbon. To plan, and figure out the right order of words when she ripped that giant ribbon from his mouth. Couldn't just sputter and beg her to help him, please, help me destroy my friends.

No, Krillin had to rationally find a sane way to announce he was back here, basically, really, naked to try and win her to his side. Tell her, look deeply into her eyes, and explain how he hadn't been able to stop thinking about her. That he might be, or could very easily, fall in love with her. He was a man, as so visibly seen because of the loosening restraints, and she was a woman, and presumably, they were both into that, and might become lovers, should she give up her evil ways.

Trade you wanting to kill Goku for…sleeping with me.

No. What I offer is another path. We can be friends, and perhaps lovers. I'll teach you faith in humanity and undo all the damage that's been done to your heart. I'll show you how to love, and love is enough to help everyone. Not that I'm even sure I'm in love with you. But I want to kiss you, and your hair, I can't stop thinking about what it would be like to plunge my hand into it, just like how you want to put your hand in my chest right now.

I'm so sorry! My friends are dicks and forced me into this!

At best, all I wanted was for us all to become friends! If anything, I thought your big friend was the nicest one! He liked birds! Please don't kill anyone. Besides me, because I can't go on after this humiliation.

I have a crush on you, and thought this was the best way to go about it. Hahahah.

Do you like me? I like you. I have gifts. Do they make you like me more?

Please just quickly kill me.

Krillin could hear her voice first, and that was the worst thing. Better to have her jump in and give him a heart attack. Now he had to wait, and hear her footsteps that made black roses bloom in his eyes and his stomach to clench. How the hell did she have lovely footsteps? Her voice. Ah, her voice.

"…goddamn purple-haired moron. What type of freak just runs up and spills soup onto someone? Where the hell is that shirt?"

-I might see her undressing oh my fucking Kami and Piccolo, if Piccolo had been here this never would have happened, oh my god. Fuck. Where's Piccolo?

As she was a sane normal person, her reaction was first of shock. Juuhachigou reeled around in her seat. Wearing a plain white t-shirt that could have knocked a steadier man over, soup stain and all, and the flash of ankle made him keel over the other way. You could practically see the questions blitzing through her head, especially as she slid over the white bars to take him in better. And/or to kill him.

"What are you doing here?" Then she saw the state of his clothes.

"What…what happened?" Then she saw the gag.

"…Are those gift certificates?" Then Juuhachigou was moving forward, lifting herself with a cat grace over those bars, curious and eyes alive. So quick to come to whatever conclusion and respond, and every movement he watched as a starving man might stare at a full course meal. Crouching besides him, smiling, flicker of eyes and her hands shadows in her gloves. Leaning in.

Krillin had to begin squealing over that. Coming closer, and peeling the card stuck to his gag with her teeth, looking into his eyes the entire time. Then moving onto the others, careful to avoid any actual physical contact with him. Like she knew. About the entire scheme, about how he felt, like she could hear him moan despite the gag. Never letting any part of her body touch his own, and tongue sometimes flicking out.

By the time she pulled away, there was a stack of gift certificates in her hands and she was too busy counting them to pay attention to his whimpering. "Thanks. These I do have a use for."

Couldn't even say his speech before she was opening the backdoors and kicking him out onto the pavement. He caught of glimpse of her smirk and was aware of the state of his ribbons, before he was tumbling out. Saw his friends, hiding behind cars, peeking and looking unsurprised at everything. Ducking when the other androids finally walked up and hopping into their van, with only the large one saying hello.

His last sight of the androids was over a dented bumper and a scratched sticker that was practically emblazed onto his eyelids.

Gohan was the one to finally run up and check on him, smiling. "So, did it work?"