Number Thirty-Two
Chapter Ten
The Conspicuous
Thirty-Two steadies himself against the tree.
Namek is a humid planet, with oxygen rich air that would be pleasant if not for how much pollen pollutes it. Every breeze tempts Thirty-Two into a sneeze but he manages to swallow it, finding the idea of falling into an allergy fit around Pyrak and the others embarrassing, though the entire thing makes his nausea worse, which had begun to be a problem when they were pulled into the orbit of the planet. He mustn't vomit. Or sneeze. Or worse yet, he mustn't do both at the same time.
The ship is nearby and it's tempting to return to it – but this is Namek. How long has Thirty-Two wanted to find this place? How long has he scoured? How amazing – ironic, really – that he's managed to stumble upon it by no control of his own with a person he was last here wi—
He swallows the bile. His head hurts.
It feels wrong.
Being here feels wrong.
Shielding his eyes from the nearby star, Thirty-Two looks out over the grassy plane, where he spots Goku outside a stone dwelling no larger than an averagely sized civilian house. He'd flown ahead along with Piccolo the Namekian, Vegeta and the woman, Bulma, likely in a bid to give the inhabitants some warning about the three Frost Empire captains bringing up the rear. As Pyrak had earlier pointed out, Thirty-Two cannot fly so they're walking the short journey to the village. Ytvl had suggested it in what Thirty-Two assumes to be a way to get into his good books, because the other option would have been for Thirty-Two to accept a lift which would have been a foul experience for all involved.
Yes. Ytvl has been nothing short of magnanimous since the meeting some nights ago. It'd almost felt like a conspiracy until Pyrak acted with his usual boisterous callousness, reminding Thirty-Two very much of his incarceration. It's not been a bad incarceration by all accounts. It's been one of his finer ones, in fact, with the food being especially non-horrific. What a shame it is that he can't stomach it.
The company has been the biggest challenge as so it usually is with Pyrak involved. He's walking ahead, whistling to himself and kicking aside any rock misfortunate enough to find itself in his path. A frog isn't spared the same fate and takes quite the journey overhead.
Ytvl clicks his tongue. "Really, Pyrak…"
"It caught air, huh?"
By Thirty-Two's right is Ytvl, who is watching him again. He's been doing it more so than usual and the unwarranted attention is starting to annoy Thirty-Two.
A rogue sneeze chooses then to strike and Thirty-Two has to turn away, catching it in the crutch of his arm.
"I knew it," Ytvl laughs.
"Shut up."
"A lot of our Southern transfers struggle with the pollen," he goes on to say. "You're Southern even down to your allergies."
Thirty-Two ignores him. He's as much a pest as the rest of them. Pyrak, Vegeta, the woman… At least the namekian steers clear of him. The only one who doesn't rub Thirty-Two up the wrong way is…
Thirty-Two wipes his dry eyes.
Such a pain.
"Hey, you made it," Goku greets as though they'd been parted for longer than five minutes. The others have already entered the dwelling but it seems Thirty-Two's group deserves a warning before they enter. "So, listen…"
It's unnerving how Goku's expression freezes over. The warm creases of his eyes disappear and in its stead is the sharp, unwavering glower of the saiyan who took down Frieza. It's here that Thirty-Two recognizes the quiet ferocity of the man, quite possibly for the first time experiencing what sort of creature he really is.
"If you hurt any of them," Goku whispers, low, "I'll make sure it's the last thing you do. These guys are my friends and they're good people."
"We won't do anything of the sort, right?" Ytvl asks of his group, bright, arms open. "We all have the same intentions, I'm sure."
"I'm a good boy, I swear I won't do nothin' naughty," Pyrak says.
Thirty-Two couldn't do anything even if he wanted to. He hopes this sentiment is apparent in his poker-faced stare. It isn't, because either a poker face is his default facial expression or Goku can't read social cues.
"Thirty-Two…"
"I won't," Thirty-Two eventually tells him, "I can't."
"Oh, right. Oh, yeah…"
The mood breaks when Goku laughs.
Really, Goku laughs a lot. Thirty-Two can hear him laughing through his bedroom door sometimes, and he's heard him when they allowed him in the social area, always talking and joking and laughing. He smiles even more, as though that's his default facial expression, making Thirty-Two wonder why he smiles as much as he does, which for some reason, makes Thirty-Two's stomach hurt.
Pain turns into mild interest when they enter. Inside the dwelling is white much like the outside, with sparse furnishings and windows without glass. The furniture looks uncomfortable and Thirty-Two is unable to differentiate the table and seating as both are carved from stone. Oddly enough, there aren't many personal items even though the dwelling is clearly a home. There are flowers, though, lots of them, which makes Thirty-Two want to impel fire.
When the door opens, the inevitable happens.
A namekian similar of middle age emerges, holds his nose and gasps.
"What is that—?" he gasps, clinging to the doorframe.
Goku looks around. "Eh? What is it?"
Thirty-Two steels himself for it.
"Damned," the namekian whispers, and then turns directly to Thirty-Two. "It's him! You! You're damned! Get out of this home at once!"
That's fine by him. They don't need to tell Thirty-Two twice. But before he can leave, Pyrak clutches firmly onto his shoulder.
"Oh, don't be like that, old man," he says, "Thirty-Two can't help the way he smells."
"Cursed!"
Ytvl blows a whistle. "They really don't like you, do they?"
"No," Thirty-Two admits, wanting to leave.
Goku appears lost. "Oh, it's not just a Piccolo thing," he says a bit lamely, "I'm real sorry, Noosh, but Thirty-Two can't be outside alone and we kind of need these guys with us for the dragon balls."
"That creature is cursed, Goku," panics Noosh, "To have him here – in my home – yes, it may leave negative residue. It may alter the home's aura. I won't—"
"All right, all right, uh. Thirty-Two…"
Thirty-Two turns on his heel, unchallenged this time by Pyrak, and makes his way out of the dwelling and towards a mound of dried dirt that could be perched on. He sits, wondering who his jailer is going to be until sure enough, Goku emerges from the abode, quick on his feet and far too emotive for Thirty-Two's liking.
"Jeez, there's gotta' be a story behind this," he opens up with, gesturing to Thirty-Two's self, laughing.
If there's a story then Thirty-Two doesn't know it. He has suspicions, of course, but Namekians not being his biggest fans isn't his biggest worry.
"So... Why don't namekians like you?"
"Who knows."
"Uh, you?"
That's when the tingles return.
Ah! Oh!
Again. He feels it again. Over in the distance. Oh, and there, by the house. Perhaps in the house?
"What is it?" Goku asks, "Did you sense something? Can you do that without your scouter?"
No, Thirty-Two can't so it just adds to the mystery. What is that he feels? It's itching inside of his brain, something in his chest pulling to get out, like a –
He sneezes.
"Oh. Are you sick?"
Unhappily, he lowers into his hands, hating how dry his eyes feel.
Thirty-Two swallows the second sneeze. If he waits long enough then the others will emerge with the dragon balls and then they can all be on their way. That's what they're here for. That's what Thirty-Two's here for, and when the time is right Thirty-Two will take them for himself.
"So…"
"We don't need to talk."
"Yeah, but I'm real curious about something."
God. Goku's going to ask him about the Youth Program again, Thirty-Two realizes with great dismay. He's brought it up a few times now but doesn't seem to be getting the message that the topic is not up for discussion. When it'd first been mentioned, Thirty-Two felt incredibly unwell, his head throbbing with the possibility of uncovered truths. As he'd been working on fixing his ruined scouter his hands had grown numb, his mouth static. 'Had Goku realized?' he'd wondered.
Why had he been asking such personal questions?
The reality was hardly much better.
Bent over the desiccated scouter, Thirty-Two had grasped the situation with dizzy realization
They're looking for him.
Goku is looking for him.
He doesn't unpack it. He doesn't care. There's no reason to care. Thirty-Two has nothing to do with this man.
But still... Why didn't he just use the dragon balls here on Namek if he'd always had access to them? Why didn't he wish Thirty-Two home?
He's looking for Thirty-Two but also not using the single most useful tool at his disposal.
Why—?
No. He won't do this to himself.
It's done.
Thirty-Two made peace with it years ago.
"So, yeah," Goku says. Thirty-Two prepares his customary evasive response, only to falter when the Youth Program isn't in fact brought up. "Why didn't you kill me back at the tavern?"
It's somehow worse than expected.
Thirty-Two doesn't have to answer his question but knows the situation will look more suspicious if he remains quiet. "I aimed for your vital organs," he dismisses. "I missed."
"Eh, no way. It was point blank and you're a good shot." Goku's gaze weighs heavily on Thirty-Two, like a barbell plummeted across the throat. "Well," he eventually continues when Thirty-Two doesn't better defend himself, "Thanks, I guess. Though, you still did kill Krillin."
Goku's never been that cut up about it, now that Thirty-Two thinks about it. Is this why? Because they will use the dragon balls to revive him?
Ah. This is what Vegeta had meant when he'd threatened returning when he'd been Thirty-Two's prisoner – he'd known about the dragon balls, too.
"I think this is why Ytvl thinks you're not really on Hailer's side," Goku goes on to say. "'Cause you spared the guy who killed Frieza. D'you think I'm gonna' do it again – to Hailer? Kill him?"
'Are you?' he wants to ask.
"Could you?" Thirty-Two instead leads with, using common sense. Lord Hailer is far stronger than Frieza was.
Goku shrugs and jostles a rock with his boot. "I dunno'. What do you think?"
"Lord Hailer is undefeated."
"So was Frieza."
"Lord Frieza didn't have access to the Tree of Might."
"The Tree of wha'?"
"Power," Thirty-Two reveals quietly, "It's his source."
"Oh. Then that's cheating. He can't be all that strong if he's relying on something else ...So, I'd have to beat up a tree first, right?"
"It's an orchard."
"Do orchards punch back?" Goku grins. "I don't know what an orchard is."
"It's a farm with many, many trees," Thirty-Two explains, "Which is guarded at all hours. Lord Hailer himself has sole access to the trees. I know Lord Cooler has his own orchard somewhere North but I know little about its security."
"I bet Ytvl would."
Thirty-Two hums non-committedly.
"You should cheer up. Maybe I really could beat Hailer and Cooler, especially now that I know their secret weapon is just some trees."
"They're no secret, but they are untouchable."
"Hmm… Then I'll have to fight them the old fashioned way. I'll just have to take on whoever's left after this big fight between them."
"Lord Hailer."
"Y'think?" Thirty-Two doesn't respond but that doesn't deter Goku. "I'll figure it out when the time comes. After all, I didn't go in with the plan to kill Frieza."
Now, that has Thirty-Two react. "What?"
"I mean… It just sorta' happened."
"Sort of happened?" Thirty-Two repeats, incredulous. Like a sneeze, the laugh that bubbles to the surface is inescapable, and Goku's surprised into a laugh his own, scratching at the back of his neck as Thirty-Two takes in the outrageousness of accidentally murdering the universe's most infamous tyrant.
"It really did," Goku says, "A lot happened that day. I…" There's a shift in mood and a weathered sigh curves the conversation. "It wasn't… a good time. Back then, I… It's the reason I asked about the Program."
Thirty-Two sobers.
"My kid—"
And then he stands, unable to listen. He doesn't want to hear the story.
"Hey, where are—?"
Suddenly, there's a bang and the door from the house they'd left is off its hinges, with Pyrak rampaging out and in direction of them, steam practically emitting from his ears. Thirty-Two thinks he's going to punch him but it's Goku he instead goes for, hurling him up from the mound and into the hazy green of the sky.
"You think this is a joke!"
"I knew you'd never believe me," Goku replies, dangling without a care, smirking behind the orange of his jumpsuit.
"Goku!" Ytvl next calls out. He's not exactly pleased either. "What the hell! Why didn't you tell me?"
Now, Thirty-Two's really curious.
By this point, the others have spilled out of the house, along with around five or six namekians. The smallest must be no older than Thirty-Two, standing near the front and holding a very large, very spherical rock that looks like it has no earthly business being here.
That's when Thirty-Two feels it again. That itch.
"They're useless!"Pyrak bites out, "They're just lumps of shit! Just like you will all be when I'm done with yer!"
"Knock it off," Ytvl snaps, similarly heated. "Explain yourself, Goku. Why have you led us to these dead rocks?"
"The balls are dormant," says the small namekian, "Not dead."
"They're rocks!" Pyrak hisses, swiveling Goku in the boy's direction. "Look at em, yer filthy liar! They're ROCKS! Where are our dragon balls!"
Thirty-Two feels the blood drain from his face upon seeing the stones. Surely not. These can't be the mythical balls of legend. They're real! Thirty-Two remembers having seen them! What the hell does "dormant" even mean? Are they defective? Can they be brought back?
He sets his mouth into a grim line, livid.
The dragon balls were supposed to be his salvation.
"The magic will return one day," the boy says, "But for now our dragon is sleeping—"
Pyrak throws Goku down onto the bank of dirt he and Thirty-Two had been sat on. "Then wake him UP!" he roars, marching towards the boy, furs dragging.
Oh. He's going to kill him.
Goku recognizes the intent and is up and in front of the group. Vegeta's moved forward too in a jarring bid of protectiveness, yet Piccolo is the one however to physically reach Pyrak first. He swings a fist but Pyrak captures it, empowered by rage, twists it, and wrenches the limb free in several stilted motions. With credit to Piccolo, he doesn't scream, but it does ruin his reaction time, giving Pyrak opportunity to be able to break his nose. The crunch echoes throughout the planes.
Interestingly, Ytvl is angry enough to let this play out. The way he glares at the stone that was once a dragon ball is telling. He's hurt. It'd been a personal blow.
Thirty-Two feels much the same although he's not foolish enough to wear it so openly.
"Nail!" calls out the boy when Piccolo is tossed aside.
Vegeta is the next to challenge Pyrak, fairing much better. He curls his knee into the nook of Pyrak's thick, bulging neck, having propelled himself up at speed. There's an echo of impact and even though Pyrak doesn't move, he does flinch from the sheer strength of it. Vegeta follows through on this momentum and charges a blast of energy into his chest, which does push Pyrak back, having him cleave a solid line through the dirt. He lands at the base of Thirty-Two's boots.
"Stop this!" Goku demands, "You're outnumbered, Pyrak."
Pyrak opens his eyes, producing dark pinpricks of unrivalled fury that cut into Thirty-Two. He looks to Ytvl next, expectant. Does he really think they'll help him?
If anything, Thirty-Two wants Pyrak to continue with this madness. Maybe Goku will kill him.
"Be smart," Goku further instructs, "Would Lya want this?"
"I don't care what tha' bitch wants!" Pyrak shouts, dragging himself upwards. "I'll bring her Vegeta's head first and then I'll bring her Hailer's! Yer a waste! We don't need yer!"
The namekian boy from earlier is brave. He rushes past Pyrak, Thirty-Two and Ytvl and over to Piccolo's ditch, the stone still tucked under his –
Again!
Thirty-Two turns in tandem with the boy. The thing he's feeling – it's the stone! The dragon ball!
"—so let's take a break," Thirty-Two overhears Ytvl say with his measured temper. He's between them, arms wide and brow knotted. "We must configure what must happen next. Allow me to try and talk some sense into him. Excuse us, Goku."
And then... they walk away.
This puts Thirty-Two in no-man's land.
Actually, it makes him invisible as Ytvl has confiscated Pyrak from the situation, urging him behind a congregation of trees and away from the other group by the house.
Well. There are a couple of options here for Thirty-Two. The first of course is that he could run – but to where? – the second is that he could investigate the dragon ball-turned-stone, and the third works mostly as a solution to the first.
He needs to get rid of the sheenks. If he does then he'll be able to use his power, and then he properly flee. He'll investigate the balls later.
Thirty-Two walks towards a subsection of hills at a leisurely pace as not to attract attention. Once behind, however, he sprints, curling around trees and into a particularly swooping valley that dips ever further into a lake. He's a good swimmer and so plunges into the blue. It's warm in comparison to the lakes on Central, and without his furs he's able to swim at speed. They must be close to the equator because the island centre of the water is further away than it looks, and by the time Thirty-Two reaches it he's panting.
In the dense hideaway of bushes, Thirty-Two sits.
And then he scours the dirt for the sharpest stick he can find.
The implants have been inserted to complement his ki reserves. That means he has one in each arm, one in each wrist and one sitting at the crown of his abdomen.
Time is of the essence.
It takes a few attempts to pierce his skin with the stick, and he has to peel back the flesh by hand when only a pinprick is managed in his left arm. His fingers do most of the work. They find the thin sheet of sheenks thankfully fast and are able to wrench it out amongst the tissue and blood.
There's a lot of blood.
He'd wanted to try this aboard the ship but knew he wouldn't be able to escape the collective keeping him captive weakened. Now, with open space, Thirty-Two may stand a chance.
He hisses when the sheenks is dislodged into the grass.
That's one out of five.
The next he goes for is the one in his wrist. It's tricky because there are a lot of arteries there which could cause a problem if clipped. He does manage to free the second sheet without issue but the proximity of the arteries concern him for when it'll be time to free his dominant hand. This had taken a level of finesse.
The third requires Thirty-Two to bite down on a stick to stop him from groaning. The one in his abdomen is hard to see under the already strained light, largely due to the foliage's shadow. What meager light there is reveals pooling blood and the stuttering breaths of a stomach wrecked with painful concentration. This sheet is buried deeper. Right, the core is the most powerful pocket of ki so it's to be expected.
Thirty-Two pokes around his flesh until he feels the unforgiving corner of metal.
And then…
Then, by whatever ill fate he must suffer, he sneezes.
It's a disaster.
His hand slips and pushes the metal even deeper, and a sharp pain shoots along his nerves and he flails onto his side, salivating over the stick between his teeth.
Blood courses like a stream over the green. His hands start shaking. Thirty-Two wonders if he just inflicted internal bleeding.
"F-F-Fuck-k-k."
The sheenks isn't forgotten but by the time he attempts to retrieve it once more, Thirty-Two is no longer alone.
"Are you insane?"
Fuck.
It's Piccolo. Thirty-Two can't see much through the blur but he recognizes the voice.
How had he been able to-? Ah. That's right. Namekians can sense him, can't they?
Thirty-Two spits the stick out and attempts to drag himself along the grass. Perhaps Piccolo can't swim. Some photosynthesizing beings struggle when engulfed in water, and he just—
"Goddamn it! What the hell is wrong with you!" Piccolo barks, drawing Thirty-Two back by his ponytail with the arm Pyrak had supposed torn free. Namekians can regenerate, he then recalls. But to be able to do it so fast?
Thirty-Two breathes hard, tasting metal.
"You got two, I see," Piccolo grumbles, repurposing Thirty-Two to fit under his arm. He collects the sheenks, too, making unhappy noises as he picks them out of Thirty-Two's puddles of blood. "Disgusting."
The flight back is mercifully short. Piccolo must feel the same because he throws Thirty-Two down as though he's a bag of marbles, rattling his bones. There are people surrounding him. The cool of their shadows before the star would have been refreshing, but now it makes him shiver. He aches, and the nausea from earlier has returned to an impossibly dizzying degree.
"We turn our back for five minutes…"
Goku...
Thirty-Two rotates into the fetal position, regretting the attempt. Admittedly, there'd been a miscalculation. He hadn't planned on either the namekian sensing him or the badly issued self-mutilation. If he'd not been discovered he would have been fine.
When he attempts to sit up, a blunt force hammers his nose, sentencing him back to the grass. A wad of blood is coughed up.
"Pyrak," Ytvl hisses.
Thirty-Two refuses to be sent down by Pyrak. He sits up once more, though the world is on an axis.
"Foul."
"—a blasphemous, damned—"
"Damned, I say—"
"Don't let him—"
Namekians. Thirty-Two sees them, standing in a semi-circle around the situation Thirty-Two has managed to carve out for himself. Pyrak isn't attacking the others now, Thirty-Two notices. Perhaps they bonded over the recapture of Thirty-Two.
"Uh... Um... Please don't move," requests a new, gentle voice.
"Dende – no! The creature is cursed!"
It's the boy from earlier – the one who'd been carrying the stone – and he's now right next to Thirty-Two, his expression pinched but no less determined to be there. His unsteady hands are raised above Thirty-Two's worst gorging, sweat trickling past his antennae.
So suddenly, Thirty-Two floats.
Warmth blooms like a lone flower in the snow. His abdomen is the fertile soil. The hands are the sun.
Thirty-Two's never been healed by a healer before. He's read about them, of course. The feeling can be addictive. Some have been known to injure themselves on purpose just to relish the sensation of a healer's touch, and now Thirty-Two understands why.
"You senseless bastard," Ytvl says without any heat, with wonderment perhaps. He claps Thirty-Two on the shoulder when the namekian boy next moves to his left arm.
"Wait a second," Piccolo says, "Don't forget these."
The sheenks is inescapable, and the flesh heals around the metal with greedy intention. Thirty-Two grinds his teeth, schooling his frustration into the most vacant stare he can.
"I'm done," the boy says, and then stands.
Thirty-Two snaps a hand over his arm - which causes a panic. Around, the others grow loud, demanding things of him without daring to approach too closely, yet Thirty-Two just stares at this boy. He has no intention to hurt him. For some reason, his face reminds him of someone, someone he probably long forgot since his last "episode". Just as Goku steps forward, Thirty-Two releases the boy, who stumbles back into his forest of brethren.
He then flexes his arm experimentally. It's impressive. Lord Hailer would go out of his way to recruit a healer as talented as this namekian. He'd be irreplaceable, though probably wouldn't survive long – the boy looks soft. He has a sweet disposition.
Even though he must have felt the effects of Thirty-Two's nausea-inducing presence, he'd smiled as best he could.
"Thanks, Dende," Goku says, "Sorry for troubling you. Are you all right?"
"I-It's fine! I'm fine!"
"Have we had enough dramatics now?" Bulma snaps from further back. She looks a bit white. "This excursion was supposed to be quick, not gory or – or full of gross innards!"
"Don't be a baby, Bulma. It was just a bit of bone."
"Be quiet! You should have been watching him!"
At that, Goku sighs, folding his arms and giving Thirty-Two a look that is supposed be annoyed, but Thirty-Two notices the pucker of amusement testing his lips. Pyrak looks between them, less angry than before but nonetheless displeased with the situation. He retraces his steps towards the ship, shoulders hunched.
A truce has been found in Thirty-Two's absence.
"Yes… I best go make contact with Lya. She won't be pleased with you, Goku," Ytvl drawls.
"Let her be mad," Vegeta says, "She knows the truth about the balls now."
"It was the only way I knew you'd believe me," replies Goku.
"There's a war," Ytvl stresses, "My time is valuable. I don't have—forget it. I'm heading back. We'll talk about this on the ship. Here…"
It's then that Thirty-Two realizes that he'd been holding the dragon ball stone. He throws it towards Goku but… but something compels Thirty-Two to move, and by his body's own accord his hand reaches out.
It's just the tip of his finger which grazes the ball and yet it's enough. Like a match striking sandpaper, life bursts in a flare of orange. Fleetingly, the stone flashes and four red stars twinkle red. They die just as quickly when the ball glides over Thirty-Two's hand and into Goku's grasp.
There's silence.
And then, chaos.
Everyone is speaking all at once and Thirty-Two doesn't know what to do with himself, becoming a ragdoll when he's hauled upwards by Piccolo.
What was that? Why did he do that? How did he do that?
Goku doesn't hesitate pressing the large sphere into Thirty-Two's hands.
Immediately, colour catches. The orange and red yields, swirling into existence from its core as Thirty-Two stands there, painfully confused.
"It's alive," the boy, Dende, whispers when no one else speaks. "Guys, the dragon ball is alive!"
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Thanks for your feedback so far. I'm trying to reply to people on FF and AO3 in a timely manner but life keeps me busy. The next chapter has about 5k written so far so I'm hoping to get it out within the week!