Number Thirty-Two
Chapter Eleven
The Break of Formula
Thirty-Two remains numb despite the revelation.
Goku hadn't wished Thirty-Two back because he hadn't been able to.
The balls have been asleep. Thirty-Two knows that now having felt them.
It's the verdant flavor of grass which makes Thirty-Two's head spin ever further as he's buried into it. There's a knee submerged into the rear of his neck and a palm pushing Thirty-Two's head into weeds, his vision dark, green and rigid. There's the dragon ball next to him, or rather, the stone that evolves into the four-star with Thirty-Two's sparsest touch, him only knowing it's there in due to the prevalent itch inside of his skull which scrapes his brain with antagonism.
Around, Thirty-Two hears the group talking of bringing another ball for further testing. They plan for a time and whilst it would be useful to hear what they're saying Thirty-Two can only enjoy the consequence of the foliage's sound barrier.
Vegeta's knee presses deeper into his spine when Thirty-Two captures a sneeze after being induced in pollen for too long. That's when another dragon ball is produced. Thirty-Two senses it before it arrives. It's the five-star, he realizes without even looking.
Unmistakably, there are noises of surprise. This ball must have regained its colouring too.
When Vegeta relinquishes the hold, Thirty-Two pushes himself up and glowers at the reduced group. Goku's hand is on Vegeta's shoulder, likely having pulled him away if that sneer Vegeta's wearing is anything to go by. He's looking at the dragon balls with an expression Thirty-Two can't decipher. Pyrak is easier read. He's now back and whatever foulness he'd been suffering earlier has long since become steam in the air; he's watching Thirty-Two with indisputable hunger, as though Thirty-Two had just transformed into a juicy steak.
Ytvl's self-satisfaction is the most threatening.
"How complicated you are, Captain," he says, arms folded, smirking like the entire thing is a joke.
"This changes everything," Bulma tells the group excitedly. "We can try this dragon. It won't be like before. It could work. They have different rules to the Ea—"
"Be quiet, woman!"
"I… you know what I'm trying to say!"
Ytvl raises a hand. "Now wait a moment, Bulma. Cilo was promised the dragon balls."
"That's before we knew they could be revived!"
"Th-That's beside the point!"
Thirty-Two looks over to the huddle of namekians in the nearby distance, who in turn are watching him over their shoulders, disdainful and fearful like the flock of ignorant spiritual fanatics they are. Piccolo is over there, too. He's gesturing to Thirty-Two and the four-star and five-star, which have returned to their stony state.
"This has bitten yer all in the asses," Pyrak gloats. He drags Thirty-Two up and throws and arm around him like they're old friends. "Didn't expect it, huh?"
Disgusted, Thirty-Two shoves him aside.
"There are three wishes," Bulma reveals. "We just need one."
Three…? Thirty-Two also just needs one. He turns to the balls, a swelling of excitement budding in his chest. Perhaps they could reach an agreement. Cilo could have the first wish, Thirty-Two could have the second and then Goku and the others could take the third when it'll be too late. How will he bring this up? What can he offer as a bargaining chip?
Really, he should be asking himself 'why?' as opposed to 'how?' Thirty-Two hadn't known about his effect on the balls until right now, only that he'd wanted to find them as long as he's known about them, which has been as long as he's been able to read. The fable caught his attention when he'd been a boy, back at the Program, and he'd been enamoured with the hope it stirred within him.
It's poetic, see. Thirty-Two had been discovered in the debris of Namek after its explosion before being sold to the program. This connection had felt beyond coincidence. It'd felt inevitable. Thirty-Two isn't a believer in fate but upon reading about the legend how could he not have felt a pull to them? Yes. The Namekian dragon balls would be Thirty-Two's salvation after their homestead set Thirty-Two on a trajectory of misery. Namekians hating Thirty-Two never bothered him because, really, he's never liked them either, for the fact of his own origin story.
"Get the namekians to collect the other dragon balls," Ytvl orders. "We're taking them to Lya."
"No way. We can't just take them with us," Goku finally speaks up. "They're not ours to take."
"We'll take whatever we damn please," Pyrak challenges.
"You're not taking the balls."
"Well, we're taking him," Ytvl says, likely gesturing to Thirty-Two. "And the dragon balls are worthless without whatever… magic he's casting on them."
Thirty-Two isn't using magic.
"Dream on," Vegeta laughs darkly, "Like I'm going to let him slip through our fingers the moment he turns out to be useful."
"You wanted to kill him just last night!"
"He can die after we've made our wish!"
"No one needs to die!" Goku's stepped forward and alittle too closely into Thirty-Two's personal space. "We don't even know why Thirty-Two can bring the dragon balls back. We've gotta' use our heads. The namekians don't look too happy about it, do they?"
It's true. If anything, the handful of namekians over by the house is even rowdier than their group. Piccolo isn't doing a very good job at damage control.
"That's 'cause they think he's cursed," Pyrak reminds, "They're superstitious green beans that don't even have air conditioning. I ain't trustin' what they say."
Finally, Thirty-Two is addressed, unsurprisingly by Goku. "Thirty-Two, why do they think you're cursed? You've gotta' tell us."
No, he doesn't.
"Tell us or I'll rip your tongue out!" Vegeta snaps after a long trail of silence.
"That's counterproductive," returns Thirty-Two.
"Wait until you see what I do with it!"
Goku groans. "Vegeta—"
"Thirty-Two," next tries Bulma, her tone trickily sweet. There's a smile there that makes Thirty-Two uncomfortable, and when she approaches, Thirty-Two is almost tempted to take a step behind Goku. "Thirty-Two…" she repeats, "We saved you from the Shock Plate, don't you remember? Back in the South. And since then we've fed and clothed you. Heck, we even let you out last night to sit with a book in the foyer. We're nice people. Good people. So… What do you say? How about you at least try to open up a teeny-tiny bit? We just want—"
There's a snort from Pyrak. "Tart."
"Shut up!" Bulma barks, demeanor cartwheeling, "Nobody asked you, you jerk! I'm talking to Thirty-Two—"
"Yer jus' sound so pathetic."
"It's hardly important why Thirty-Two has the ability, only that he does have it," Ytvl tells the group before the foreseeable fallout occurs. "For that, we don't need to appeal to him, only to have him in proximity to the balls – no offense, of course, Thirty-Two – It's just a matter of continuing to keep him as our prisoner until the wishes have been made."
How very generous. Thirty-Two wonders how Pyrak and Vegeta are imagining his timely demise. He hopes it's at least somewhat creative.
Piccolo at that point chooses to return to their fiasco of a debate, looking even less pleased than usual. His gaze settles on Thirty-Two as though he's the one at fault here, like he's not here as a prisoner – he's not the one with the loud, obnoxious priority of stealing the planet's sole sacred possessions.
"They refuse to let the dragon be summoned here."
"Ha!" Pyrak cheers, pointing his filthy, thick finger into Vegeta's face. "Look at that. No wishes for yer lot today!"
Bulma is spitting. "And why not!"
"They believe he is cursed."
"Well, we know that! What else is new!"
"They don't want to use him to summon the dragon. They're worried it'll bring damnation on the planet."
"Again," Thirty-Two mutters.
They turn to look at him.
Ytvl bites his lips to stop himself smirking but Pyrak outright laughs. None of the others find it especially funny however, with Piccolo looking a moment away from throttling him. Goku meanwhile is still wearing that same unreadable expression he had been earlier. Is it thoughtful? Confused? What's he thinking?
Finally, "We'll take the balls, then."
Admittedly, even Thirty-Two is astounded.
It's Piccolo who pivots however. "What?"
"Tell Noosh that we're gonna' borrow the balls for a while," Goku continues, that strange glint in his eye sparkling. "I promise to bring them back."
"Kakarot—"
"I know what I'm doing. If this is how it's gotta' be then so be it."
"You're being reckless again!"
"I don't normally agree with Vegeta," Piccolo starts, "But this time I ABSOLUTELY DO! You're acting about as insane as him!" Again, Thirty-Two feels the gesture of acknowledgement wave his way. "This is beyond irresponsible – do you honestly trust these crooks? Are you really going to gamble my people's dragon balls for this?"
"For this? No. For Him, yes."
Interestingly, Piccolo flinches.
Goku's mouth tightens and for the first time he looks mildly irritated. His arms cross.
Tension sits between them with the density of an over encumbered sponge, the leaking of power bountiful in the spitting, sparking energy emitting from Piccolo. The wind has picked up. Thirty-Two wonders if he's about to witness civil war.
"Yes…" Pyrak's hands come together in prayer. "Fight… fight… fight…"
"You've gotta' trust me," Goku adds, stern. "Piccolo."
The standoff holds until the gale lulls into a breeze, and the hissing energy falls to sleep as Piccolo lowers his fists. If looks could kill, though… Goku would already be buried six foot deep.
"Oh, boooo."
"Shut up, Pyrak."
They are evicted from Namek shortly thereafter, and Thirty-Two is once more locked away in the ship whilst they say their farewells to the namekians, not alone, of course. Not after the incident at the lake. Piccolo has been tasked the role of babysitter, wholly because he's the only one not so easily tempted into murdering him, though he's clearly displeased with his role and scowls at Thirty-Two at every opportunity presented. Why is he annoyed at Thirty-Two for not being important enough to be outside? Goku and Ytvl are the frontrunners, so he should accept that. Thirty-Two imagines the tense promises they're making in face of the namekians. They clearly don't trust one another, despite their friendly dispositions, which is a fair move on Goku's part in Thirty-Two's books because he personally wouldn't trust Ytvl even if he was the last person alive.
Thirty-Two wonders if Goku understands how quick Ytvl would be to slide a knife into his back. Whilst there is mistrust, Thirty-Two has noticed the easy comfort Goku finds in Ytvl's company. Does Goku see Ytvl as someone he could save? He seems the type – he's already befriended Vegeta, who Thirty-Two remembers for having one of the worst records he's ever had the displeasure of viewing.
And then there's Piccolo.
The namekian is leaning against the door. His eyes are now closed although he's no less aware to his surroundings, giving something for Thirty-Two to look at when the dreariness of the foyer becomes too much. Unlike the small, dead one, Krillin, Piccolo doesn't seem particularly friendly. Why does Goku choose to align with such individuals? What sort of alliance is there? How did Goku earlier control Piccolo?
Curious.
Even though Thirty-Two tells himself not to be, he is.
He'd once been a very curious boy with an aspiration for disobedience. His Youth Program Overseer would promote his indiscretions as critical thinking – as ability – which simply needed to be shaped through discipline into marketable values.
"Head down. Eyes front!" he'd order when Thirty-Two would glare up at those yellow snake-like pinpricks. The man would never balk, even after he found out what Thirty-Two did to his first Overseer back in the North.
Sometimes, he would wake up in a tangle of covers, drenched in a cold sweat when it'd been overwhelming to remember, but now it's with very little emotion he recalls how he'd pulled out her esophagus. She couldn't have screamed if she'd wanted to.
She'd been his first kill.
"I suppose," then says Piccolo, comparatively loud after the stretch of silence, "You have no intention of sharing why you wanted to come to Namek."
No, he doesn't.
"You seemed surprised with what happened with the dragon ball."
He's perceptive. Thirty-Two assumed as much.
"And your foul, rotting energy only felt by my people has nothing to do with your supposed research. Is that right?"
Piccolo clicks his tongue when Thirty-Two continues his campaign of quiet.
Having a liberal mouth equates to having an early grave, and Thirty-Two has no interest in following in that lout's – Pyrak's – footsteps, who's most certainly going to talk himself into a premature death (should Thirty-Two be lucky enough).
A short time later finds the others back on the ship, and when it takes off, it's without affection that Thirty-Two watches the pinprick that is Namek disappear into the vacuum of space. There's tension between the two factions, though Ytvl doesn't seem exactly enamoured with Pyrak, grimacing as the latter proceeds to pull at Vegeta' pigtails and swan around like the ego-centric fool he is.
Bulma is the pilot of the ship, and she returns into the fold only after the takeoff. She's the one to organize the dragon balls, which have been strategically placed around Thirty-Two, coming into contact with either his folded legs or lower back in an attempt of a circle. Each ball has made the transformation from grey to orange, and whenever one dares roll away it becomes a stone once more, and Bulma jostles it back into place.
Is this what a battery feels like? Thirty-Two never thought he'd have to make the comparison.
"You were researching Namek," she recalls, making the circle as symmetrical as the moving ship allows. "You've obviously stumbled upon something interesting about it."
Thirty-Two discreetly pushes away the one-star when she turns around.
He's been tied up with a respectably formidable metal chain gifted to them by the namekians. Without the sheenks Thirty-Two would make quick work of it, with is a different story.
"It's just for now," Goku apologizes.
"I'm not going to remove the sheenks while onboard," Thirty-Two mutters flatly, "Where would I go?"
"Into the vents."
"As I bleed out?"
"That didn't stop you on Namek," Piccolo reminds, stood at the further point possible away from Thirty-Two, leaning against the wall, strategically so as not to be near Pyrak either.
Thirty-Two's hands are tied behind his back awkwardly, hurting a little actually. He tries to focus on picking out the dried blood from his nails, bitterly imagining a world where he'd succeeded in removing the sheenks and escaped into the Namek countryside. Thirty-Two watches blandly as they discuss their tightrope thin agreement of taking the dragon balls to Lya. Goku's demanded the first wish but it comes with an additional demand.
"Whatever you're holding back on me, info wise about my son, I want it."
Ytvl hums but he doesn't deny withholding details. He can't have anything too close to the bone otherwise Thirty-Two is sure he'd be lording it over him.
"Yer'v been holding back?" Pyrak asks, "What a dick."
"Insurance," Ytvl says. "No hard feelings, Goku."
"So, it's a deal?"
"This arrangement seems fair."
Goku doesn't say anything else, turning in a swoop to collect the four-star from Thirty-Two's right and making his way out of the foyer.
"Oh, he's mad," Pyrak comments unhelpfully.
It's a further forty minutes of useless, idle chatter that end in each person taking a dragon ball into their own custody. Thirty-Two doesn't see a point. They're useless without him anyway, as already pointed out, but that doesn't stop everyone from making their claim. Anything to feel useful, he supposes. The final seven-star sits at Thirty-Two's feet like a loyal dog but he knows he won't get to keep it, and so he waits for it to be confiscated, staring at his bloodied, murky face in its reflection whilst Bulma raps her fingers against her arm, watching him watch himself.
"You're a real piece of work," she tells him.
Thirty-Two looks like he's lost weight. His reflection is ghastlier than usual.
"Hey, I'm talking to you," she says, kicking Thirty-Two's boot and knocking the dragon ball away. It rolls into grey-scale. "Ignorant jerk!"
Why are they all so talkative?
The quieter he is, the more he's obscured beneath the radars of those around him. Thirty-Two would rather be invisible. He'd rather not have to deal with people at all, aside from the handful of decent, intellectually driven individuals in the research division who aren't interested in running a knife across his throat.
"Don't think I don't know your type," Bulma goads, "I'm with Vegeta."
Being compared to him is disgusting.
"You think you're being all tough and macho by being a dick but, like him, actually you're just—"
"I don't want to know about him."
The idea of hearing anything personal about that man would be worse than the Shock Plate.
"Ohh… Look at that. Two peas in a pod."
He swallows his vitriol.
"You're such a cliché," she further torments. "You just need the shoulder of a nice girl to cry on, don't you? You boys never talk about the important stuff enough, and I know it's worse when you're a soldier because you've been broken and you're super repressed because of it. Y'know, when Vegeta first came to Earth, he'd never even spoken so much as to a girl so—"
"I get it."
"So, he didn't even know how to—"
"I don't care."
"But when I got him talking he would tell all about his woes, and one thing led to anoth—"
"Shut up."
Bulma pauses, a cruel and pleased smile present. "Oh…" she says, "Oh, wow. Are you blushing?"
Thirty-Two thinks of the dragon balls, of the—
"Aw. Did that Program of yours not let you talk to girls?"
What sort of question is that?
"I bet you've never even kissed a girl, huh?
He does his best not to look too scandalized.
"Ha, you so haven't! I didn't realize the Youth Program was equivalent to priesthood. You guys really are repressed."
Thirty-Two doesn't know what "priesthood" is but her tone is teasing and he doesn't like it. Why is she talking about this? Does she not have any self-respect? Thirty-Two has heard this sort of conversation from the soldiers under his command, which had been a marginal improvement in due to the fact that he would be able to walk away when the topic grew crude, but such options are not available here and he's forced to suffer her self-satisfaction.
He pulls at his bindings and she laughs, finding victory in the moment.
"It's kind of nostalgic," she says after a moment of contemplation. She collects the seven star ball and turns in direction of the door. "You really do remind me of him."
By the time Goku returns to the foyer, Thirty-Two has managed to cut his wrist to the bone with the binding. He isn't quite sure of the plan. One hand down, how would he have managed to stealthily collect all the dragon balls without alerting the group? It was an opportunistic decision, and now having been caught by Goku, he feels a bit silly.
Goku watches the stream of fresh blood without expression.
"You're determined," he says, "I'll give you that."
It's a relief to be untied, with Thirty-Two relishing the rolling of his shoulders and stretching of his joints. His neck had been growing stiff. When he goes to massage the muscles there he forgets about his new self-infliction, causing a trace of blood to smear over already filthy skin.
"Your pain tolerance is kinda' impressive," Goku tell hims, standing to attention, rope in hand. "C'mon, I guess I should help you out with that cut, but I'm not doing it next time if you hurt yourself again. We're already low as it is."
Thirty-Two doesn't know what Goku's referring to but follows him anyway, interested in exploring the ship for the purpose of mapping it out. Whilst there's no escaping the group right now, Thirty-Two likes the idea of knowing his environment. Seeing it through the grate of the ventilation system hadn't been exactly illuminating. Walking around, it feels smaller than he'd originally thought it to be, with homely elements he'd not noticed when on the run during his escape attempt.
Goku is a strange person, Thirty-Two decides. He still seems to be in a bit of a bad mood yet pretends otherwise, walking ahead and talking of empty things with an upbeat, bright energy. Though, Thirty-Two sees how his smile doesn't reach his eyes, and recognizes the resignation to how he speaks and moves. He's performing, and Thirty-Two wonders why. Is it for Thirty-Two's benefit? There's nobody else here. Why would Goku care about false pretenses?
Is it to do with him being a good person?
Thirty-Two has never had the opportunity to deconstruct the inner workings of a "good person" before, mostly because he's never met one that hasn't been killed within the day. Goku is an enigma to him. He's the voice of justice. He's the hero of the people. He's the man who would search the universe for those he lov—
Thirty-Two feels sick very suddenly.
It must be the blood loss.
After bypassing a murphy door, it's in an office that they stop, where Thirty-Two is immediately drawn to the childish drawing pinned to the wall. Two pink coloured stickmen stand in what Thirty-Two assumes to be a field with a smiling star behind. One female stickman has blue hair and the other one, which is male, looks more than displeased.
So, Vegeta reproduced.
Why the hell would they leave this up? Pyrak and Ytvl have probably seen this – have likely understood what they're looking at. Has Vegeta forgotten about the monsters he's invited onto this ship? Has he turned soft and stupid?
"Cute, right?" Goku asks, mistaking Thirty-Two's astonishment for interest.
"You are aware Ytvl must have seen this."
Goku ignores him. "I think the artist did Vegeta justice."
Thirty-Two suddenly feels quite annoyed. It's an irrational reaction, and as he glares at the crude crayon work, Thirty-Two realizes that these people are reckless and green and so, so arrogant.
"There's another saiyan," Thirty-Two spits, "Half. On a planet in the North known as Earth. It is young. It has a connection to the Saiyan royal lineage. It is without its parents, notably Vegeta, the most wanted criminal according to the Frost Empire.
"You already lost one saiyan child so why are you intent on losing another? You've managed not to discuss this half breed for as long as I have been listening, and yet you now allow myself – a Frost Empire soldier – to witness this evidence suggesting to yet another existing saiyan, a child no less. Ytvl and Pyrak will have taken notice, and they are more than aware that saiyans have just been a legal requirement to destroy. Children are not above culling... Are you stupid?"
Goku looks taken aback. "That's the most I've heard you speak."
Thirty-Two takes in an angry breath and does nothing with it.
"You're assuming it's a kid that drew it. Maybe Vegeta did it himself."
"You are stupid," Thirty-Two realizes.
There's a breath of amusement when Goku moves to the other side of a long white desk cluttered with files. "Well," he says, "Pyrak and Ytvl have never been allowed in here so they don't know about it. I wouldn't worry too much. Oh, wow, it's gotten kinda' dusty. I wish we could open a window or something."
The implication is that Goku trusts Thirty-Two more than Pyrak and Ytvl, which is a ridiculous notion because Thirty-Two just murdered his friend a couple of weeks ago. He has to bite his lip from saying something incriminating. He's so confused, and more so, he's angry at being confused, and angry for a reason he doesn't understand.
When Goku looks up, he's smirking. He knows exactly what he's doing.
"Oh, come on, Thirty-Two. You're no loyalist."
Thirty-Two calms himself. "I didn't know Ytvl's opinion mattered so greatly to you."
He shrugs a shoulder and collects a key from under the paper. "Maybe if you killed me like you had opportunity to then I'd be singing a different story."
Thirty-Two frowns.
"And I think whatever connection you have with the dragon balls hasn't got anything to do with Hailer or Cooler. It's gotta' be personal." With the key, Goku opens a cabinet. "Hmm, a quarter should be more than enough."
"A quarter? What—? No, I researched the balls for—"
"Sure, you did. Ah, here they are."
Goku reveals a tin. Inside, beans, and as aforementioned, a quarter of one is offered.
"I'm… I'm not eating that."
"It doesn't taste too good but it'll help your hand."
It's small and green. There's an earthy smell, being similar to the vegetation some of the soldiers take when they have a rest day, where they act like intoxicated morons for the better half of an evening.
"Are you trying to give me a hallucinogenic?"
"Eh? A what?"
Thirty-Two examines it again.
"Really, Thirty-Two," Goku laughs, "It's just medicine."
He does end up swallowing the foul bean after a long stretch of deliberation, and Goku's left laughing once again when Thirty-Two scrutinizes where the incision in his skin once sat. It'd healed in an instance. Just like that. How does Goku have access to something like this? What sort of person is he? How is he so powerfully connected?
Thirty-Two touches the skin. It's not even tender.
Yet, his chest feels tight. Is that a side effect?
"Thirty-Two," Goku says slowly, as though tasting it. It's contemplative. "I have a friend whose name is a number, too, back on my planet. Eighteen. She prefers it to her real name, though. She said her mum was kinda' awful so she doesn't wanna' use the name she gave her."
Why is he telling him this?
"So, do you got a name?"
"…Thirty-Two."
"No, no, no. Like, your real name."
"Thirty-Two."
Goku purses his lips. "No… I mean, uh. Like Pyrak. He has a name."
"Six-Three-Six," Thirty-Two says.
"Ah?"
"That was his number before he renamed himself."
"Oh. Then why didn't you do that?"
Because, simply, he didn't care to. His number represents his hollow embodiment of the Frost Empire, and selecting a name would do a disservice to Thirty-Two's quiet hatred.
He hums, staring across the sanitzation of the kitchen. "Names are futile," he says, knowing full well he doesn't mean it, that he understands the levity of identity and how he desperately wants to differentiate himself from his prior one.
"If you say so."
There has been a turning point.
Thirty-Two must have done something right in Goku's eyes because Thirty-Two is granted far more freedoms than he'd been before Namek. The next morning opens with Ytvl unlocking his door and gesturing with a flourish to the world beyond his room. He'd been allowed in the foyer the day before disembarking, with one of Ytvl's Southern books to keep him company, in which there'd been scribbles along the side of the pages – notes about the Southern language – that demonstrate Ytvl's learning journey. Thirty-Two wonders why he's bothered learning the language when he spends such little time in the South.
He's been doing that a lot. Wondering.
Thirty-Two scolds himself for his curiousity regularly but so rarely does it extend this far. It's his unusual situation, he tells himself, how usually he would not care for the trivialities of those around him. These people are strange, with Goku being the strangest of all.
When Thirty-Two enters the foyer, he greets him like an old friend.
They give him a breakfast he doesn't eat. Goku turns on the television and scenes play out about characters in spandex and capes who fight the forces of evil. Thirty-Two pretends not to be interested but by the second hour Ytvl's book has been completely forgotten. It's a film, he realizes. He's never watched one before. Some of the soldiers sit in the recreation room and play the occasional one when they're snowed in but Thirty-Two's never joined them. He's always wanted to, if only the company wasn't so dreadful. The films had always looked interesting even if they were propaganda heavy. But this one isn't. There's no mention of the Frost Empire whatsoever.
The others watch him, of course. This must be a test of some kind, or perhaps a new approach. Thirty-Two is a person who doesn't break through force so they're now probably attempting some gentle tactic to appeal to his humanity, which is amusing because Thirty-Two discarded that years ago. This does mean that they must want something from him. Cooperation, most likely. They'll want him not to unsettle their wish making plans, perhaps wondering Thirty-Two's own ambition with the balls.
Goku thinks him a rebel. Ytvl, too. And these two are the most accepting of his presence onboard, even going as far as acting friendly when they come into contact with him. It's an interesting position. Goku and Ytvl have seemingly patched up their differences but are somewhat cold with one another in comparison to their relationship before. There's little talking.
Bulma talks the most. Women do according to Nami. Apparently, his wife loves talking so much that he forgets half of what she says. Thirty-Two wouldn't know because he rarely comes into contact with women. This woman doesn't give him much option but to engage. Before, she'd worn her dislike of him like armour, but it's now been discarded and in its place is the same dictatorial attitude she uses with all aboard the ship.
It's not Ytvl to bring the food anymore, but Bulma. She's unsurprisingly been the cook all along, and by cook, Thirty-Two means the person who has unpackaged precooked meals and heated them up. That lunch, she sets the plate opposite him, one piled high with grains and a sweet, sticky orange sauce over meat, and sits opposite him in his chair by the window.
"It's good food," she says sharply.
"All right."
"And you're wasting it."
Thirty-Two brings his book back up, rereading the same line over and over until she huffs and leaves him to it. The food is good. She's right. But it also makes him feel vomit until his throat hurts. Vegeta is stood opposite, unimpressed and vocal about it the moment he gets chance, and when Bulma reaches him, he berates her for even bothering to talk with him at all. They argue down the hall, leaving Thirty-Two for no less than ten seconds until Ytvl turns up for his shift.
That's how it goes. Goku, Ytvl, Piccolo and Vegeta take turns watching him, thankfully with zero attendance from Pyrak. A small mercy.
Piccolo's watches are the easiest because both are good at pretending the other doesn't exist, whilst Thirty-Two dislikes Goku's the most for how chatty he is. He tries to engage Thirty-Two, seemingly unable to comprehend the social cues to stop, or perhaps ignoring them because he talks endlessly about the trivialities of his existence. Foods, hobbies, travels, training – Goku has opinions about all such things, making Thirty-Two want to return to his room and hide under the covers until the stomach aches wake him in the night.
These are hunger cramps. Thirty-Two tries to eat what he can, finding white food the safest, but refuses to even touch the vegetables now after something called "sweetcorn" made him throw up undigested yellow circlets. Oddly, whilst Thirty-Two has been hungry, he's not been suffering his usual late night turns. Either he's not having the nightmares anymore or he's not remembering having them – which, again, Thirty-Two refuses to unpack. It has him give a second look at Goku one morning as he leads Thirty-Two through to the foyer.
"We're not delivery men," Vegeta snaps at Ytvl as pass through the hallway together. "There's no reason why we can't just summon the dragon on the next planet we pass!"
"We've already come this far. Lya needs to be involved otherwise we are not representing the best interests of Cilo."
"Cilo's best interests certainly aren't mine!"
"This is the agreement, Vegeta."
"We've wasted weeks already!"
"When we are able to summon the dra—"
And then, they're gone.
Ahead, Goku sighs, scratching at the nape of his neck. Has he always done that? Is it a nervous tick? Does Thirty-Two do that—?
"Hey, why are you stopping?" Goku asks, "You wanna' go somewhere else?"
It's chest pain. He's been feeling it more recently, with it starting with pins and needles but now worsening into a tight press against his heart, as though his ribcage is set to burst. It's in his head. It must be because it only happens around Goku. Even his body protests being around him.
"I want to return to my room," Thirty-Two says.
Goku takes a long look at him.
"Sure," he eventually replies, "If that's what you want."
When Thirty-Two is safe and alone again, he fidgets, awkwardly wringing his hands together in the dark. He remembers the way Goku's eyes held on him - it won't remove itself from his mind. He sees him staring at Thirty-Two with dark eyes that are almost black but not quite, standing barely a few centimeters shorter than him, brows knitted as though interlocked with thought. He's right-handed like him. And he also bounces his leg when he's thinking.
Thirty-Two noticed that Goku also didn't enjoy the fungi from last night's dinner, too.
All right… Okay… He's overthinking this.
But he can't be found out. Nobody can know. One truth will avalanche into another and soon enough—
Chest pain. Again. Chest pain.
Head down. Eyes front.
Thirty-Two rocks, the panic rising like the sea coming in.
Nobody can know.
It's been five days since Namek, and Thirty-Two has found himself careworn more with the granted freedoms than the imprisonment in his room. He reminds himself of his purpose, of his research, of his goals and how he still has Lord Hailer to think of.
Thirty-Two realizes that by being treated like a person he is being worn down. Their plan is working – Ytvl understands him, has known soldiers like him – and comprehends that when violence is all one is used to then there is nothing to fear. Kindness? Well, Thirty-Two doesn't understand that. He doesn't get why he is allowed to roam the ship for reasons beyond that they're fucking with him.
He knows Ytvl knows. Ytvls probably knows that he knows. They all know. Vegeta knows, too.
This is their normality, Thirty-Two thinks, watching (as he always does) as Bulma greets everyone in the busy foyer. They smile and joke with each other. They eat together. They trust. She heats up food and puts it in front of Thirty-Two even though she knows he'll turn his nose up at it – because it's the good, kind thing to do.
Ytvl briefly talks to Thirty-Two about something trivial, something about a hijacking at a space station, and makes a joke that Thirty-Two is too bewildered at to find amusing. It's all too much. Everyone is so loud.
Goku laughs in the back, pushing him to the breaking point.
He stands and leaves. One of them will follows him back to his room.
"Yer crackin', aren'tcha'?" Pyrak sneers, keeping pace.
It's true. Thirty-Two doesn't feel in control.
"It's 'cause yer don't know how not to be a robot."
For days more, Thirty-Two doesn't emerge.
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Goku knows he should have chased after Pyrak that morning, because the result is counterproductive to their ambition – having Thirty-Two cooperate with the wishes feels lightyears away now. Already, Thirty-Two is a bit of a cold fish, but Goku felt like he was getting somewhere even if the others swear Thirty-Two's dislike of him. Admittedly, he's less likely to ignore Goku without an audience, and even less likely to freeze up like he does when Pyrak or Vegeta is in the room. So, that's, uh, something, right?
It's a tough spot to find himself in. Thirty-Two killed Krillin but didn't kill him, but, well, also did try to kill Vegeta. He'd kill Pyrak for sure. Would he kill the others? Thirty-Two operates under his own code so it's difficult to say, with the one thing Goku knowing is that this code of his is his own. From his own mind. He'd seen it back at the tavern, and now having interacted with him as much as he has, he sees the mirrored oppression that'd once tethered Vegeta, and he sees the character hidden beneath it. One who likes to read and had stared at the TV as though never having interacted with one before. Goku sees a person.
Goku forgave Thirty-Two for Krillin's death the moment he'd accepted him onto the ship, and he hadn't even realized.
He hopes Krillin forgives that. Gosh, he wishes he was here. He misses him. He misses the light, fun friendship that would have brought a necessary dynamic to life onboard the ship. Everyone here is so intense. He loves Bulma to pieces but she has her moments, especially with those mood swings of hers, which, after so long alone, feel extra draining when she's getting mad over things like Pyrak eating too much or Thirty-Two eating too little. Thirty-Two, Vegeta and Piccolo aren't the chattiest, Pyrak unsettles him, and any goodwill between Goku and Ytvl is gone.
He misses home. For the first time in a long time, he really does. How is he lonelier surrounded by people than when he was travelling alone? Maybe because those around are a constant reminder of it. It hadn't been that way at the start but the longer he's with everyone, the more Goku feels like he's doing less, as though he isn't serving his goal resolutely. But he is. The search party for Gohan is bigger than ever.
Ytvl better hold up his end of the bargain.
Goku's seen him try to butter Thirty-Two up – to little success, of course. He's still trying to win Thirty-Two around to Cilo, now more than ever with Thirty-Two's totally weird connection to the dragon balls.
"The namekians don't know why the hell he can do it," Vegeta had said during one of their quick, whispered meetings. "They just kept saying he's been cursed – what does that even mean?"
"It has to have something to do with them, though," Bulma had pointed out. "He's obviously got some connection with Namek."
Goku'd thrown his suggestion in the ring. "Maybe some Namekian magic?"
"Perhaps... But I've never heard of a Namekian curse," Piccolo had said.
"You're more Earthling than Namekian," Vegeta had scoffed, "What would you know?"
"I could say the same thing about you. What happened to your planet again?"
"It's not much of a curse," Bulma had snapped, eying the two of them, "Bringing life to the dragon balls isn't exactly a bad thing, is it? What do you think Thirty-Two was planning?"
For Vegeta, it'd been easy. "He's serving Hailer."
"Goku?"
"You know I don't think he is. I'm kinda' bored of saying it. Let's just keep going as we are. Treating him badly isn't going to help us. Maybe we'll grow on him and he'll come around to our way of thinking down the line. We never know what'll happen unless we're open to opportunity."
"How your optimism hasn't killed us yet is astounding, Kakarot."
Such opportunity has had Thirty-Two stay in his room for two days now. Sure, there'd been a reaction but not the one Goku had hoped for.
"He's stunted," Pyrak had told him when Goku had built up the will to speak with him. Ytvl had watched from over the rim over his book, interested. "Like an emotionless retard. Probably 'cause of all them times he got injured and ended up in the hospital. I think he hit his head a bunch or somethin'."
"Oh, like me."
"Heh, tha' explains it. So, this asshole told yer anythin' more about yer kid yet?"
"When we reach Cilo," Ytvl retorts coolly, "As promised."
Goku will hold him to it.
Bulma doesn't think Thirty-Two is a "retard" like Pyrak had said. Prior to Goku's visit that day, she was already in a bad mood because of the ship's ever-increasing need for fuel.
"He's just shy," she'd overlooked as she'd trailed a finger along the main computer screen.
He'd laughed. "Yeah?"
"Yes. Anyway, the reason I asked you here: do you remember passing through a section called the Path of Ashes when you travelled through the North-East? We came from a different direction but according to the ship's readings there's been a supernova which might disrupt the ship's pathing if we went that way."
"Never heard of it."
"It's an asteroid belt. Ytvl said it's regularly travelled but… well, I don't like a bumpy ride." She'd chewed at her nails, fixated on the screen. "I'd want to do a maintenance check on the exterior if we did do it – and we desperately need to refuel. Realistically, we need to stop. I'd planned on staying on Namek the night to make sure everything was working as expected but, well, you know how that went down."
"Where's the nearest space station? Do you know?"
"A half day away but it's Frost Empire ran. There's another just under a day away but Ytvl told me they water the fuel down there and it's sketchy as hell – I'm kind of out of options, though."
"Does Pyrak know of any?"
"I'm not speaking to that asshole."
"Thirty-Two?"
Bulma rolls her eyes. "Oh, yeah. I can't get him to shut up," she says dryly.
"Then, let's just go to the one a day away. We'll make sure they don't stiff us out of good fuel. Vegeta can be pretty scary when he wants to be, right? I think we can pretend to be tough guys for a little while."
So, that's the plan.
Goku's looking forward to landing this evening just to be out of the ship. His limited freedom on Namek had been nice but it'd just made him want more, and he knows he's not alone in his sentiment. When he'd told the others that they were stopping at the space station, the mood on the ship had lifted, like the sun peering behind the clouds. Piccolo almost smiled. Goku knows. He saw it.
By the time Goku gets around to telling Ytvl, the latter isn't in any of his usual haunts so he decides to check Thirty-Two's room in case he's doing a food run. Which he is.
"—eresting record such as yours," Ytvl can be heard saying from the open creak of Thirty-Two's door. Goku pauses. He knows it's rude but he can't help himself. "The medical department in the North is easier to access than its Southern counterpart, especially for someone of my position."
"Your ex-position," Thirty-Two returns.
"Testosteroids," Ytvls emphasizes, "Very naughty. They're illegal without doctoral and managerial consent. I know for a fact that they're outright banned in the Youth Program."
There's silence.
"Thirty-Two, the fact that you've—"
"Why are you wasting my time with this?" Thirty-Two interrupts, clipped. "If you're so confident that my usage was illegal, take it up with Lord Hailer."
"So, he knows?" There's a mean laugh. "I doubt he—"
"Take your ill researched blackmail and present it to the Cilo leader if you feel like it will make any difference to your pathetic plight. Take it to Lord Cooler or Lord Hailer or whoever you serve. I'm not threatened."
There's a moment of calm before the storm, and Goku rushes into the room the moment he hears furniture being knocked over and fabric being ripped. Thirty-Two is bent over his bed, Ytvl interlocking both his hands behind his back with just one hand. The other holds torn material.
"No… fighting," Goku reminds weakly, confused, looking between the two. "Ytvl, what are you doing?"
Ytvl further pulls the remnants of Thirty-Two's top away.
"Thought so," he says mysteriously upon gazing down at Thirty-Two's very pale, rather thin back. Goku tries to see what Ytvl's seeing but can only make out faint lines that could scars. "They're dark. Very dark. You must have taken a lot. I didn't think much of it when we…" There's a hold of realization. "Wait. God… tortured… you. I didn't even think. You… I… Why didn't you say!"
Ytvl, who is usually so well guarded, appears naked in momentary alarm. He releases Thirty-Two, almost falling into Goku as he steps backwards. He hisses something in a different language.
"What is it?" Goku asks, "What's wrong?"
"I said I'd never on a mi… God, we used a Shock Plate on him and he's…" Ytvl glares down at Thirty-Two as he spins around, reminiscent of a cat cornered in an alley. "I have siblings!"
"Don't be sentimental," Thirty-Two sneers, throwing a fresh top overhead.
"What happened?"
"He—"
Thirty-Two speaks in the Southern tongue, sharp and reminding Goku of when he'd led the team of soldiers that they'd faced weeks ago. It's commanding. Ytvl's eyes only see him, and they narrow with concentration as he takes in what Thirty-Two's saying. Goku knows Ytvl's Southern isn't perfect but he clearly understood enough because the reaction is obvious. Ytvl clenches his fists. His teeth grit.
"Perhaps you were better off in the dark," Thirty-Two finishes with. "Or are your principles worth the fate of your beloved Cilo?"
"You…"
Thirty-Two smirks. "Aw, are you going to be my hero, Captain? Are you here to save me?"
Goku's never heard Thirty-Two speak with such cruel inflection. Whatever just happened has certainly ruffled his feathers, and Goku isn't liking the result.
"Guys…" Goku holds a hand either side of them. "Let's just put a pin in this. I thought you were getting along?"
"Don't worry. It's over," Thirty-Two says, dark eyes intensely focused on Ytvl. "Get out."
Surprisingly, Ytvl vacates without further argument, a cold breeze of air passing Goku as he slides into the hallway and along in the direction of his own room. Thirty-Two has already preoccupied himself with notebook he must have fished out of somewhere, and he's writing in it with no intention in giving Goku any of his time.
"Are you okay?" he asks anyway.
"Shut the door when you leave," Thirty-Two replies levelly.
Well.
Just as Goku turns to leave, he notices the untouched breakfast Ytvl delivered, only to further notice that it's not entirely untouched. The bread is gone. The apple, too.
"I came to say that we'll be docking at a space station tonight. You'll probably feel us landing. Bulma asked not to let you off so Piccolo will be—"
"Watching me? Understood. Can you please go?"
When Goku locks the door, he feels like he's just missed out on something incredibly important.
They arrive earlier than anticipated to the space station.
It's probably one of the smallest stations in the entire universe. Space stations can be as big as small planets, but most run the size of a village, with parking being found in the core of the structure. Some are like resorts with nice hotels and fancy tourist spots that attract rich visitors who have more money than Goku would know what to do with, others are seedy, dangerous places that he always tries to leave the moment he refuels. This one is neither. It's a plateau of concrete with a refueling point. A single store sits opposite.
It's busy, considering. There are about twenty to thirty ships parked up, which is a problem when there are only two pumps.
There isn't a good atmosphere, too. Goku has seen families at space stations countless times, including women and friendly looking aliens who like to touch Goku's hair because it's springy. This place has Vegeta stand very, very close to Bulma, likely because the creeps walking around give her a second look as she stomps along the tarmac. One thickly built, blue skinned man nudges his acquaintance, gesturing.
"Vegeta, ask if they have the red one. The last time I used the green one the ship damn near blew up."
"The red one? What does that mean? Are you talking about the liquid hydrogen?"
"No, the red one! If I wanted liquid hydrogen then I would have just said that, dumbass."
"You might want to keep your voices down," Ytvl suggests lowly, "It's best we attract as little attention as possible. He's still a wanted felon and you're…"
"I'm what?"
"About ter get pregnant if yer keep mouthin' off," Pyrak says, "These guys probably haven't seen a female in months so even a hag like you would look appealing."
"What did you just call me!"
"Blaunch-chausetté."
"Stop saying that! What does that even mean?"
There are quite a lot of unfriendly people around, and they're staring at Bulma with a dirty, ravished sort of look that sends a shiver down Goku's spine. Whilst he doesn't want to agree with Pyrak, he can't help but also see the possible hazards surrounding them. The space station is small. These people probably know each other. And because it's not Frost Empire regulated it'll be rife with crime.
"Maybe you should wait on the ship, Bulma," Goku suggests, knowing full well to expect the reaction he gets.
"Why the hell should I? It's my ship!"
"You're causing a scene," Ytvl whispers harshly.
"I don't give a damn! Vegeta will kick their—"
Vegeta is the one to cover her mouth. "Shut up, woman. Don't say my name!" By the look of disgust crossing his face, she's biting him.
"I don't mind knockin' some heads together, but I don't think it'll help us stayin' under the radar so…" Pyrak grins, showcasing sharp, bright teeth. "Bye, little sock."
By the time Bulma is persuaded back onto the ship, twelve ships have already refuelled and left. Goku prepares his most scary face in order to intimidate the worker into giving them the good fuel, but he finds he needn't have bothered because Pyrak is swinging him by his ankle by the time Goku enters the store. They even get complimentary snacks.
As the fuel pumps into the ship, Goku leans against it, trying not to breathe in the fumes of the pollution. Vegeta and Pyrak are still …negotiating with the poor worker and Ytvl is consulting a nearby map on a bulletin board. Since learning that they'll be going through the asteroid belt he's been quite antsy, or maybe he's been like this since his altercation with Thirty-Two. It's hard to tell because they're still not really talking.
Goku leans his head back, letting loose a sigh. The stars above are milky. It makes him think of home.
But there isn't home without Gohan.
Back then, everything had been perfect and he hadn't even known. Him, Gohan… Chi-Chi.
Oh, Chi-Chi.
He buries her in his mind – in his memories – the only place she now resides.
Right now, he can't unpack that. Never, really. Goku doesn't think he'll ever unpack it. Goku remembers Vegeta mentioning that saiyans "mate for life", and although he doesn't really like being compared to animals, the idea that he's already had his one and only is both a little sad and liberating.
He misses her.
He misses Gohan.
He misses what he once had.
In the space station, Goku stands in the chill of the night, under the stars, appreciating how lonely he really is.
"KAKAROT!"
Goku jostles to attention the moment the wall behind moves. Wait. What? The ship is taking off! He looks left to the entry point, shocked to find Piccolo indisposed by the door. Vegeta and the others are flying in his direction, and he follows suit upwards, jumping high in the air just in time to see into the window of the cockpit. It's not Bulma driving.
It's the blue aliens from earlier, with faces cracked with wide, awful grins that makes Goku feel numb.
The ship is too fast.
It's gone in seconds, taking Bulma with them.
Along with the dragon balls.
And the prisoner.
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IMPORTANT NOTE: This site really didn't want me to post this chapter. Their submission system is being a wanker so I recommend following this story on AO3 as I cross-post on there. It might come a point I can't upload on here which would really, really suck.
Ironic note: At work, we were discussing sci-fi and I mentioned my utter dislike of the genre (despite writing this space opera).
Note note: A speedy update because work has yet to run me into the ground this semester! C12 is in the works and I'm kinda excited for it as I do love a bit of a self-contained story within a story. Thanks so much for the feedback so far! If I haven't replied to you yet, I will. I'm throwing this chapter out and hitting the hay because I, unfortunately, have a life which requires me to rise for work in the morning. The woe of bills.
I'd really appreciate a review/comment if you're enjoying or confused :) (It'll aaaaall come together, I promise).