The dragon radar led them straight to a large outdoor shopping mall. Marron, reluctant to end the road trip quite yet, decided to go window shopping, and Seventeen, for the same reason, agreed. After mall-crawling for a while they got ice cream cones and sat down on a bench to people watch. It was a beautiful day, the weather pleasantly warm but not stiflingly hot, and the ice cream was creamy and good. They engaged in languid, unhurried conversation until a small commotion happened in the plaza in front of them.

A small boy burst into tears, and from the looks of things he had just noticed he had gotten separated from his mother. A mall attendant knelt down next to the boy, trying to calm him down, but before too long a woman with hair the same color as the boy hurried over. From their vantage point, Marron and Seventeen could clearly hear her comforting and cajoling the boy into better spirits. This had apparently happened before, and the mother patiently reminded the boy that she had come back to him then, too. This seemed to calm him, and the attendant released him into his mother's care, the incident ending with hardly more than a pause in the bustle of shopping.

Marron, surprised at herself, could feel tears pricking at her eyes. She took a big lick of ice cream and swallowed the tears down with the cool treat.

"Uncle, why is my mom so…"

She had been avoiding thinking about her parents during the entire road trip, but now her mother was all she could focus on. She did her best to gather her thoughts, and then pressed on.

"Like, she never smiles hardly ever, and she acts like stuff doesn't bother her even when it does, and… and stuff."

"You mean, why is your mother a refrigerator?"

"Uncle!" Marron was equal parts horrified and delighted at his flippancy. At least he seemed to understand what she'd been getting at. Marron had always just accepted that her mother was a closed off, non-demonstrative sort of person. It was just the way she was, and Marron had never thought to question or even wonder about it before. It had certainly never occurred to her that there might be reasons why her mother was the way she was. Seventeen let out a long, slow sigh and slouched in his seat until his legs stretched out straight before him, his sneakered feet resting on their heels.

"Always with the big questions," he said under his breath. In a more audible voice he continued, "That's just how she copes, bug."

Marin's frustrated sigh communicated clearly how inadequate she found that.

"But why? Why is she like that? You're not like that. My dad isn't like that. Vegeta's like that, but he's… he was…"

Marron slowly trailed off as what she was saying finally penetrated. She gave her uncle a slow look.

"Uncle Seventeen, did my mom ever-"

"No," Seventeen said swiftly, harshly.

"You didn't let me finish," Marron said, put out.

"I didn't have to," Seventeen said sternly. "You know better than to ask questions like that."

She did know better, but for the first time she wondered why the rule was in place. What was it they were trying to keep from her? She had always been told that line of questioning would make her mom and uncle sad, but Seventeen was acting like her just knowing was the bad thing. He didn't seem sad, anyway. He seemed, if anything, angry; agitated. Maybe he really was sad and it was coming out like anger.

"I'm sorry," she said sincerely. "I just wanted to know more about my mom."

"There are some things you're never going to know about her, okay? Things she doesn't want you to know."

It was as though she had been literally slapped in the face. Tears welled up in her eyes completely unbidden, and she turned away from her uncle, breath coming shallowly as she struggled not to cry. Despite the fact that her mother had never once acted like the warm, effusive person they had just witnessed in the plaza, Marron had never ever doubted that she loved her. The idea that there were things her mother didn't want her to know, as though there were parts of her life Marron was unwelcome in, was almost physically painful. She heard her uncle gently say her name and felt him put his hand on her shoulder.

"What?" he asked. "What's wrong?"

"Why?" she asked, her voice squeaking a little. "Why doesn't she want me to know?"

Seventeen put his arm all the way around her shoulder and scooted her next to him. She let him, leaning her head against the side of his chest. She could feel as well as hear him sigh deeply.

"Bug, what would that change, if you knew? What difference would it make? She'd still be your mom, wouldn't she?"

"It changed things for Trunks," she said sullenly. She didn't see him roll his eyes exasperatedly.

"Okay, maybe it changed some things. But it didn't change the fact that Vegeta is still his dad. Did you know he came to check on Trunks?"

She tilted her head up to look him in the face.

"He did?"

"Yep. He's still Trunks' dad, no matter what he might have done in the past."

Marron lowered her head, aware of where Seventeen was going with this.

"So you're saying it doesn't really matter if my mom used to be a murderer," she said sarcastically, still sullen.

"I didn't want to have to do this," she heard her uncle say under his breath. Without jostling Marron too much he pulled his phone out of his back pocket and scrolled through the photos until he found one of Marron at two years old, wearing Roshi's sunglasses and a feather boa, pretending to read a book. It was one of his romance novels, and the entwined couple on the cover were clearly visible, although they were also upside down, the Marron in the photo being much too young to actually know how to read.

"What are you going to do with that? Marron asked suspiciously.

"I was thinking about texting this to Trunks," Seventeen said nonchalantly. "I think he'd get a kick out of it."

"No!" Marron shrieked, clamoring for the phone. Seventeen held it high up out of her reach. "Uncle, you can't, please! Don't!"

"Why not? Since we're talking about laying people's pasts out for all to see and all. Why not give you a taste?"

Marron was now genuinely crying, still reaching for the phone ineffectually.

"No," she said miserably. "He'll hate me. He'll think I'm a stupid little baby."

"He might not," Seventeen said encouragingly. "Don't you want to get closer to him? People who are close share things like this with each other."

Marron realized what her uncle was doing and scooted over on the bench out of his reach. She fixed him with a glare full of hurt and anger.

"That is not the same thing," she said caustically. Seventeen leaned down so that his eyes were on the same level as hers and made piercing eye contact.

"No," he agreed. "What we're talking about is much worse. Take all those feelings you just had, and multiply them by a thousand. By a million. That's what your mom would go through if I sat here and told you all the sordid details of her life. She's not trying to exclude you." He leaned back and ran a hand through his hair wildly. "For all that is holy in the over and under world, we are just trying to protect you."

The words pierced her like thunder. Her mother, standing on the beach between her and Vegeta, embarrassing in her rage, but, ultimately, just trying to protect her. Her mother, reminding her of every silly little thing to do to keep safe: just trying to protect her. Her mother, stroking her hair and helping her pick out outfits, holding her hand and putting a cold cloth on her head during a fever, but never admitting she was sad, never admitting she was scared: just trying to protect her?

Marron sat back against the bench with a thud, all the fight leaving her at once. Her uncle watched her warily. After a long, long time she said meekly,

"You're not really going to send it to him, are you?"

He laughed, relieved.

"Bug, I don't even know his number."

She slapped his arm, still mad but ready to forgive.

"Uncle, you're mean! Don't ever do that again. Why do you even have that picture?"

"Your dad sent it to me," he said, pocketing his phone. "I'm going to keep it for always and treasure it until the day I die."

Not quite ready to joke again, Marron just shook her head and finished her ice cream.

"Let's go get the dragon ball," she said.

They found it sitting on a faded velvet pillow in the front window of a variety shop, flanked by an old tricycle and a painting of the fourth emperor. The price tag read 10,000 zeni, and Marron's face fell as she read it.

"I can't believe it! I don't have that kind of money, do you uncle?"

She glanced up at him without much hope. He shook his head.

"What do we do now?" she asked.

"We could steal it," Seventeen suggested. Marron gave his arm a good slap. He winced and rubbed it as though it actually hurt. "Alright, alright, easy on the goods. I was just kidding."

Marron knew perfectly well he had not been kidding. She leaned against the brick wall of the shop and slid down until she was sitting on the ground. Seventeen sat down next to her, and they both contemplated their next move.

Across the wide stone path that wound its way through the center of the shopping mall Marron could see the mother from earlier and her little boy. She had mounds of shopping bags in one hand and the boy was holding tightly to the other. She was attempting to open the door to a home goods shop, but the little boy wouldn't let go of her hand.

"Silba, for heaven's sake, you won't get lost if you let go of my hand for two seconds. Just hold on to my dress, you'll be okay."

The boy refused, until it looked like he was about to have another meltdown. The woman threw her head back and released a groan of frustration so loud it startled the boy, who began to cry in earnest. The woman looked down at her son, crying inconsolably, and then tilted her head back up to stare at the sky, her slumped posture and deep sigh more than adequately communicating her absolute doneness with the situation.

Marron felt a laugh bubbling up in her chest. Her mother had plenty of flaws, and she was still a little curious about her past, despite what her uncle had said, but she knew for a fact that Android Eighteen had never once lost her composure in the middle of a shopping mall.

She clambered to her feet and ran over to the woman.

"Here, let me get that for you," she said, opening the door. The woman looked down, startled, but upon realizing what Marron was doing she smiled gratefully.

"Such a nice girl," she said. "Your mother must be very proud."

Marron blushed and scraped the toe of her sneaker across the crack between two paving stones.

"I think she is," she said.

Seventeen gave her an amused, questioning smile when she returned. She stood over him where he still sat on the ground and held her hand out imperiously.

"Give me whatever money you have," she said. Her uncle raised an eyebrow.

"What for?" he asked, handing her 4,000 zeni. Marron reached into her pocket and pulled out the 2,000 zeni she had.

"I'm going to see if I can negotiate," she said, striding into the variety shop with her head held high. Seventeen followed slowly, more than ready to watch his niece happen to someone else.

"Can you believe he threw in the incense for free?" Marron crowed as they walked out of the shop. The dragon ball had been wrapped in decorative paper and placed in a shopping bag along with two packs of incense 'on the house.'

"I can't believe you didn't try to get him to throw in the monkey's paw too," Seventeen said, still reeling from seeing his sweet little niece haggle like a fisherman.

"We don't need two wish-granting items," Marron scolded. "Besides, it was probably fake. And it looked really creepy. What did you want it for, anyway?"

"As a back-scratcher," Seventeen said, deadpan.

"Ew!"

Seventeen grinned.

"Well, we have all seven. What now?"

Marron looked up at him, a sense of loss already tickling her stomach.

"Well, we can't call the dragon here," she said slowly. They both looked around at the crowded shopping mall, teeming with all kinds of people, none of whom had woken up this morning prepared to see a dragon appear in the sky. Seventeen nodded in agreement.

"Where should we do it, then?"

Marron thought.

"Let's go home and do it there," she said.

"Are you sure, bug?" Seventeen asked, peering down at her from the corner of his eye. She didn't look sad or homesick, just... determined. She looked up at him, meeting his gaze, and nodded.

"Yeah. Let's go."