Gohan

"Can you sit still for five seconds?" Gohan lowered his binoculars, frowning over a shoulder at the pacing Prince.

They'd spent the last two hours surveying the enemy camp. At least Gohan had. Trunks had alternated between pacing, sharpening his sword, and letting out the occasional exaggerated sigh of irritation.

"I've been sitting still in a cramped cell for days until last night. So, no."

Gohan pressed his lips together, his grip tightening on the binoculars. "Let's go over the plan one more time."

"We've gone over the plan. Gather intel, bag two guards, bring them in warm. It's not that complicated."

Except that it was, in reality, quite complicated. The place was crawling with security personnel. It would only take one of them sounding the alarm for their entire plan to go up in flames. The prince's anxious behavior was only further eroding the already frayed edges of his nerves. "This is a stealth mission. That means waiting for the right moment to—"

"This isn't my first rodeo." The prince rolled his eyes. "You don't need to worry about me doing my part unless your slimy uncle goes back on his word and lays another hand on Marron, in which case, I'm going to strangle him with his intestines."

A wave of frustration rolled through Gohan, as well as a sliver of confusion at whatever the hell a 'rodeo' was supposed to be. The sentiment behind his words was clear though.

Gohan didn't expect to get along with the prince, but they needed to work together as a unit for this plan to go smoothly.

He wanted to say more, to impress upon his 'partner' the importance of waiting for the proper moment. The lavender-haired Saiyan was obviously more accustomed to giving orders than taking them. His words would likely fall on deaf ears. It was clear he couldn't think beyond retrieving his sister and getting back to his human.

Rather than waste his breath, he simply said, "Noted."

"Good. Then we understand each other." The prince gave him a withering look and crossed his arms over his chest.

Gohan resumed his surveillance, from the lines of slaves dragging carts in and out of the caves to the entrance of the facility where he spied large crates being loaded onto a cargo ship. No sign of his brother or the Princess. He didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

He supposed it was some small mercy that his brother wasn't out in the elements. This sort of climate was hard on his prosthetic, though he would never complain.

Minor aches and slightly reduced mobility are the least of his concerns in that place. A little voice in the back of his mind whispered. He knew Goten was alive, there were no credits in killing him. But keeping him whole was not a requirement for claiming a bounty.

A lump formed in his throat, and he shoved the uncomfortable thoughts away. His brother would be fine. He would make sure of it.

A flash of movement broke him from his chain of thought.

A cart had toppled over, the gems within were now scattered across the ground. Beside the cart, he spied a figure on their knees in the snow, hastily scooping them up.

It was a child, obviously underfed, with red skin and a shock of dirty white hair.

A guard approached the boy now shrinking back against the cart, baton crackling with sparks of violet raised over his head, ready to bring it down—

The guard stopped when something spattered against his helmet, he swiveled to face the projectile's source. Gohan followed his line of sight to a figure, crouched down, gathering something in its hands. Snow.

The figure was human. Female. She had a slender build and long, disheveled raven hair.

She packed the snow into a ball and hurled it at the guard's helmet. Gohan didn't need to get a read on her power level to know she didn't stand a chance against the hulking beast she was intentionally provoking.

The woman was either incredibly mad or… brave.

Perhaps both.

"Give me those."

"You're being impatient." Gohan hissed, lowering the binoculars and scowling at the lavender-haired Saiyan.

"Yes, I am. I'm sick of wasting time just sitting out here, freezing our tails off. Every second we spend out here is another second they could be doing who-knows-what to my sister." Trunks snatched the binoculars from his hands and strode past him.

A wash of anger surged within Gohan as he glared daggers into the other Saiyan's back. Didn't he realize they both had a sibling's life on the line?

Unlike his uncle, he strived to be merciful whenever possible. He'd seen more than enough bloodshed for five lifetimes. But if it came down to the long-lost royals or his own kin, he would choose his little brother.

If Trunks compromised this mission, he would leave the other Saiyan behind without a second thought.

"Well, what do we have here?"

"What is it?"

Trunks tossed the binoculars back and nodded toward the dense copse of snow-covered trees west of the primary facility. "There."

Gohan scanned the horizon until he spotted two black dots darting across the endless expanse of white. He tapped the dial on the device several times, zooming in.

Two armored guardsmen were heading into the forest.

"I say we follow them."

"No. That's not the plan. We don't know where they're going and if—"

"Look, you can stay here with your thumb up your ass but that," he pointed a gloved finger at the swiftly retreating figures in the distance, "is our opening. I'm taking it. With or without you."

Before Gohan could argue his point further, the prince leapt from the cliff they were standing on, sprinting for the forest the moment his booted feet met solid ground.

Running off half-cocked into unknown territory was not the plan. They were supposed to observe the facility for any discernible patterns or weak spots, and then — only after gathering all of that data — would they make their move.

"Fucking prick." Gohan grit out, shoving the binoculars into his pack and grudgingly following him down.

It didn't take long to catch up with the prince, who was keeping out of sight between a rocky outcropping as he observed the pair of guards milling around in a clearing just a few yards away.

"Nice of you to join me."

Gohan didn't even dignify the comment with a response as he drew up beside the shorter Saiyan.

The guards were crouched down, digging through the snow. After a few moments, a metallic grey hatch was revealed.

The shorter guard took a parcel from the other and gestured to their surroundings before he climbed down into the hatch, closing it behind him. The remaining guard took a quick scan of the area, before removing his helmet revealing a minty green face. He took something from his belt and brought it to his lips, a flask of some sort.

According to the readout on his scouter, there were only two of them. That was something, he supposed. At least there wouldn't be any surprises.

Gohan drew in a deep, steadying breath. "Alright, we'll stay out of sight until they head back this way—"

But the lavender-haired Saiyan was already striding into the clearing. A sharp pang of frustration burrowed into Gohan's chest. Before he could stop him, Trunks threw out a hand, firing off a series of small ki blasts that sent the unwitting male careening into a drift of snow with a startled cry.

"Or just do that, I guess!" Gohan all but snarled as he watched the scene unfold with no small amount of incredulity.

The guard let out a string of incomprehensible curses as he lunged for the prince, viciously kicking and punching at any part of his body within reach.

The hatch buried in the snow flew open. "Oi! Granate, what's all the racket—?!"

In an instant, the second guard was out of the hatch, charging right for Trunks' back.

Fuck.

Gohan bolted into the clearing after him.

Just as Gohan closed in on his target, the armor-clad male abruptly halted his advance, swiveling back around to face him. He swerved out of reach as Gohan lobbed a powerful strike at his face. And another. And another. He weaved seamlessly in and out of range of the dark-haired Saiyan's fists before disappearing altogether.

Gohan's scouter chirped out a warning. He had only milliseconds to react when he felt the air shift around him, barely lurching out of the way in time before a tendril of glowing red ki skewered his face.

This was precisely the sort of chaos Gohan had wanted to avoid.

Gohan sprung back across the snow, falling into a defensive stance and taking a deep, steadying breath as his enemy advanced on him once more. He only needed to subdue him long enough to knock him out with one of the two sedatives in his pack.

Gohan's scouter beeped furiously and a bright red glow engulfed both his opponent's fists, morphing into a set of deadly blades.

Trunks bellowed out a roar, but Gohan didn't have time to assess his predicament because those glowing blades were coming right at him, forcing him back, all the while ducking and dodging every swipe and strike.

Gohan veered from side to side, narrowly avoiding decapitation. The scorching blade grazed his cheek and Gohan ducked down, pivoting around his assailant, delivering a powerful kick to his back, sending him careening into the belly of a tree. But before his body made contact, he vanished again. The air around him shift again and Gohan whipped around just as the guard materialized at his back.

The guard lunged forward so swiftly, if Gohan weren't Saiyan, it would have made his head spin. But Gohan saw his opening. He dodged, catching his assailant's left arm in one hand, locking it into a bone-snapping hold behind his back, driving a knee into his spine and forcing him to the ground. The guard thrashed wildly in his hold as Gohan blindly groped at his pack for one of the two syringes inside. When he finally had it in hand, he tore the cap concealing the needle away with his teeth and stabbed it into the guard's neck. He went still within seconds.

Gohan looked up just in time to see Trunks crack his opponent across the back of his head with the pommel of his sword. The green-skinned male dropped like a puppet with its strings cut, landing face down in the snow.

"He's definitely gonna feel that when he wakes up." Trunks smirked, nodding at his felled opponent, whose head was leaking thick blue streaks of blood onto the pristine blanket of white.

The prince sheathed his sword, nonchalantly dusting the snow from his hair and jacket. Gohan simply stared at him, pulse pounding in his ears, chest heaving with exertion, at a complete loss for words.

"What?" Trunks blinked.

It took every ounce of self-control he possessed to rein in the urge to punch him in that moment.

Bulla

Bulla's body ached from lying on the old stone floor, as expected. She'd slept fitfully, thinking of all that Goten had told her the night before. When she awoke, the sun was shining brightly, and the dark-haired Saiyan was preparing another meal of grilled fish, along with a modest pile of fresh fruits.

He'd tried and failed to strike up a conversation. All she'd offered him was a brusque 'thank you' for the meal he'd provided. They made it through their breakfast in relative silence, aside from Goten offering the occasional commentary on their surroundings or the meal they were sharing.

It was much easier before, when she would have killed him without a second thought. Now that the burning animosity that fueled their every interaction had dimmed significantly, she felt as though she didn't know how to respond to him at all.

She tried to concentrate on her food, but that didn't feel right either. She contemplated her skewer of fish, and a fresh wave of discomfort washed over her.

This was not the first time Goten had taken it upon himself to feed her. Additionally, she couldn't help but notice that he'd given her the lion's share.

But why?

She'd robbed him. Marooned him in space. Tried to murder him, twice.

Why not just feed himself and let her worry about her own needs? Why put forth the extra effort?

It made no sense.

It was starting to feel too much like he was looking after her. The food, the fires, and the way he'd responded to… the incident in the lab. The minor detail of him saving her life when it would have been far wiser to let her die.

Things between them were becoming increasingly convoluted. And that wouldn't do at all. She needed to remember herself, and despite all that transpired the day before, that nothing had changed between them. It couldn't. He was still determined to reclaim the klangite. And She couldn't allow him to do that. She didn't have a choice. She needed it more than him and his… family.

If or when the remaining crew of the Flying Nimbus appeared… well, she supposed she would worry about that when the time came.

In the meantime, taking advantage of his goodwill, presuming it wasn't all some elaborate ploy...It simply didn't feel right.

It would only serve to further muddle matters between them.

Besides, Bulla didn't need him to look after her. She was perfectly capable of looking after herself.

But… after discovering that the hangar bay was empty, she couldn't help but consider the prospect that their stay on this planet might be permanent. Her heart sank at the thought.

If that were the case… having him as a sort of… companion, might not be such a bad thing.

Would it?

She cast a glance at the dark-haired Saiyan seated across from her, blissfully oblivious to the battle she was waging within herself.

She was being ridiculous. That line of thought would only lead to more trouble.

"Something wrong with your food?" Goten asked in between bites of fish.

Bulla shook her head before grudgingly scarfing down her meal. There was no sense in wasting it.

"So, how long are you going to avoid talking to me?"

Her attention returned to the dark-haired Saiyan. He was grinning, his dark eyes alight with amusement.'Play with me,'they said.

Bulla straightened, turning her gaze to the last dying coals in their makeshift fire pit. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm not avoiding anything."

"Oh. Well, glad to hear it. I'm full. You have the rest." Goten pushed the last of the berries toward her before getting to his feet, stretching his arms wide and letting out a contented sigh before kicking off his boots.

She frowned at him and then down at the plump little orange berries dotted with delicate swipes of blue. She considered leaving them. But, rather than waste perfectly good food, she placed them in the zippered pouch at her hip. She'd save them for later. Just in case.

But after that, the only food she'd consume would be obtained without Goten's help.

At the sound of rustling fabric, Bulla turned to find Goten standing at the water's edge naked from the waist up. His deft fingers moved to his belt, unfastening it and proceeding to shuck off his pants.

"…What are you doing?"

"I'm gonna take a bath." He said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, tossing his pants atop his growing pile of clothing. "I don't know if you noticed, but there are no cleansing stalls around here."

Heat rushed to her cheeks at the acres and acres of shamelessly bare skin now on full display as he stepped into the stream.

She knew she should look away, or better yet walk away, anything but stand there ogling him like some imbecile. But stand there ogling him, she did.

She'd seen him shirtless before, but she must not have been paying attention, because she couldn't recall his body being quite so broad and muscular, his skin bronze and smooth but for the occasional scar here or there.

He waded into the water until he reached the steady stream cascading over the cliff side. His posture was casual, relaxed. As if he weren't buck ass naked in front of her. She could do nothing but gape as the water sluiced down over his shoulders where skin met metal, tracing the lines of corded muscle there.

His tail swished gently from side to side, like a magnet, beckoning her to drop her gaze lower to his—

"Like what you see?" He threw a cheeky smirk over his shoulder. "You can look all you want, Princess. In fact… I wouldn't mind if you joined me. You smell pretty ripe."

And just like that, all that simmering animosity that eluded her only moments ago came rushing back in an instant.

"How dare you—" she stammered, her face heating for an entirely different reason.

He laughed, his eyes practically glimmering with mischief. "Why so shy all of a sudden? If I recall, you weren't shy at all the night we met."

"Fuck you! I was playing a part! I only did that so you would lower your guard, you boorish, arrogant, simple-minded-"

He turned to face her more fully, and she forced herself to keep her eyes on his face and nothing else, to maintain eye contact. "Boorish? I seem to recall you finding me quite agreeable. What was it you called me? … 'kind, gallant, and handsome'?"

She crossed her arms over her chest. "I said whatever I had to. As if I'd ever lower myself to—"

"—And then you kissed me." He grinned, unbidden her gaze was drawn right to his mouth.

"All part of the plan." She replied primly.

"Is that so? Funny, you didn't kiss my brother before you knocked him out."

Her cheeks flushed so hotly, she wouldn't be the least bit surprised if they were smoking. She knew he would throw that in her face at some point.

Bulla had made a conscious effort to forget about that particular incident. She should never have let it happen. She knew better. She had simply gotten carried away in her role and taken things a little too far. It had nothing to do with him, his musky scent, or his stupid, pillowy lips.

"Admit it, you like me, just a little bit."

"Don't be absurd." She growled. She'd had more than enough of this asinine conversation. So, Bulla did what any rational person would do. She turned on her heel and walked away.

"Where are you going?" Goten called out.

"I'll bathe further downstream. Alone." She replied without glancing back.

"I don't think it's a good idea to split up!"

"I didn't ask for your opinion, nor do I require it!" She snapped.

She continued trudging downstream until she was confident she had put enough distance between them to provide her with some semblance of modesty.

"You can look all you want, Princess. In fact… I wouldn't mind if you joined me. You smell pretty ripe."

The utter audacity.

It was like he was trying to vex her.

Bulla paused at the water's edge, crouching down to make sure nothing menacing was swimming around beneath the glassy surface. She caught sight of her reflection, and she was a bit struck at her appearance. Dark circles lined her eyes. Her hair was a tangled mess, and she was absolutely filthy.

Confident that the water was safe enough, she straightened. She was sorely in need of a bath. A rustle of movement in the brush stilled fingers working on the fastener at her neck.

She turned toward the sprawl of green at her back. The jungle was still and silent but for the sound of rushing water and the occasional birdsong overhead.

"Goten?" she called cautiously.

She sniffed the air tentatively, not so much as a hint his of that metallic, leathery scent that she'd become annoyingly familiar with.

She stepped further into the tangle of green, scanning her surroundings cautiously… a soft chittering sound caught her ear. She swiveled around.

At the base of a tree she spied a mass of shivering fronds. Ah, there you are.

It was probably one of the many lizard-like creatures that inhabited this jungle, which would probably make a tasty meal for later. She had resolved to take care of her own needs, after all. What better time to start than the present?

She prowled toward the tree, readying herself to strike…

The fronds shook again, then a fluffy mass of purple fur burst out from the foliage, swiftly skittering up the belly of the tree.

The chittering noise sounded out again, and Bulla's gaze shot skyward. Four shiny black eyes blinked back at her. They belonged to a quadruped creature, barely larger than one of her boots, clutching at a low-hanging branch. From a tiny, white horn on its head to the tip of its long fluffy tail, it was covered in a downy, purple fur.

Bulla wasn't sure what to make of the creature.

It was… kind of cute.

Without warning, the creature dropped from its perch above, landing gracefully on her shoulder, and Bulla froze.

It was purring.

The creature wound itself around her shoulders, and she instinctively lifted her arms to cradle it against her as it affectionately nuzzled at her face and neck. "Oh my, you're… friendly."

The only response he, at least she assumed it was a 'he', if his bits were anything to go by, gave were a few gentle swipes of his sand-papery tongue on her cheek. Damn it all. She couldn't eat this little guy. Not when he was gazing up at her so sweetly and purring so hard his whole body was practically vibrating.

The bundle of fur sniffed at the air and began wriggling in her grasp, so much so that he turned himself upside down, attempting to burrow his face into the zippered pouch at her hip. Oh, he must smell the berries.

Bulla carefully placed him on the ground, where he sat up on its hindquarters, watching her in rapt fascination as she reached for the zippered pouch.

"Are you hungry?"

All four of his beady black eyes shone with delight at the sight of the sweet berries, and he let out a loud, happy chitter.

He wasted no time in pouncing on her offering, and Bulla couldn't stop the smile that pulled at the corners of her mouth.

Suddenly, her little friend went still, his ears twitching. Forgetting all about the fruit at his feet, he scurried off into the foliage.

Bulla almost groaned aloud with disappointment. But it wasn't as though she could keep the creature. Oh well, she supposed she would leave the berries behind, in case he came back for them.

With a sigh, Bulla turned to make her way back to the stream.

WHAM!

The ground rushed up to meet her in a blur, knocking the breath from her lungs. Bulla's fingers dug into the ground as she attempted to regain her footing, coughing and sputtering before she was roughly shoved back down.

Something massive swiftly settled astride her torso. One hand pinned her wrist to the ground as another clamped over her nose and mouth.

She thrashed against her unseen assailant, but their iron grip on her face was so tight she couldn't even scream. She tried to drag in a breath, and all at once her nose and throat burned and her eyes watered. There was something gritty on their hand, something had a sickly sweet odor, something that she had just inadvertently inhaled.

Bulla's heart hammered violently against her ribcage as panic set in. She wanted to fight back; she needed to fight back, but her limbs were growing heavy and her head ached so fiercely that her vision was swimming, until everything was nothing more than a blur, until everything went dark.

artwork for this chapter

commissioned from

Artsuyuu