| It was a gloomy, terrible night at Capsule Corporation. All the lights were off in the house when Trunks finally made his way home, and there was no movement anywhere. That suited him fine; he wasn’t sure that he could handle anyone at the moment after the atrocities he had seen… It was with great heaviness of heart that the boy found his way to the door and used his key to let himself inside. Soaked by the rainfall, water dripped off his wet lavender hair onto the smooth tile floor beneath his feet. He brushed his long bangs from his eyes, but they fell right back. He walked noiselessly into the kitchen, taking off his heavy boots and laying them against the wall. His dull, glazed eyes gazed over everything, and yet saw nothing. It was like being detached from his own body, and he wanted to keep it that way. Forever, if possible. He didn’t want to have to feel what he had just witnessed. He didn’t want to let it seep through him, knowing that the moment it did, guilt would also invade his mind and body. And he already could barely live with the guilt… He finally stopped in front of the long counter top, and rested his palms against the cool surface. He stared down at the glassy plane, eyes boring furiously through the wood as if blaming it for all of his problems. He couldn’t have known it, but it was an expression that almost exactly matched his father’s. Slowly, his hands curled into fists as he allowed his mind to wander, gripping the tabletop until he was sure the material would crack under the pressure. His teeth were gritted hard as the images of his harrowing night swirled endlessly in his already full chaotic mind. How? His subconscious condemned him mercilessly. How could you have not gotten there it time to help them? His had begun to shake all over. The bodies that had littered the ground… The fires and the rubble that was all that remained of those poor people’s homes… He wanted to scream. I tried! I flew as fast as I could! Gohon would have never let it happen. His subconscious was quick with a brutal response. He would have hated you for letting this happen, you stupid weakling… Trunks’ eyes squeezed shut at this cruel realization. He swallowed painfully as the memories of his Sensei rushed back to him worse than crushing blows. It was the truth… The pain he had seen, the crying and mourning for loved ones…that would have never happened if he weren’t on his own! “Gohon wouldn’t have let it happen…” He muttered pitifully to himself. “He would have saved them; that murdering Jinzouningen would be dead right now!” Sweat formed on his brow as rage flared up beneath his grief and self-hating consciousness. That accused android! What right did she have to invade their home like this? Her companion was dead; why hadn’t the other one stopped this destruction? What had the Earth ever done to them? In his fury, Trunks reached for the closest breakable object and threw it murderously across the room. He enjoyed the shattering, smashing sound it made when it hit the wall and broke into a thousand pieces. Not bothering to stifle the desire he felt to vent more of his anger on the world around him, he reached for another glass… From her bedroom, Bulma was alerted from her drowsy, dreamlike state by the sound of a great crash. She had been waited for Trunks to return, but had somehow managed to doze off. Now she snapped awake, and jumped out bed as quickly as she could to rush toward the noise. It sounded it all heck had broken loose in her kitchen! When she reached the door to the room, fully expecting to see some horrible being tearing apart her home, she was abruptly shocked by what she found. “Trunks!” The frenzied boy jerked around, surprised to be suddenly facing the concerned face of his mother. Her face was slack with amazement as she quickly surveyed the mess that was once her well-ordered dinning room. Then her large blue eyes trailed back to her sons face, covered in sweat and contorted in slowly easing fury… She opened her mouth to yell, but suddenly, she seemed to realize what had happened.. She could only imagine what the boy had seen at that town… Pained sympathy etched itself over her face. “Oh, Trunks…” She murmured, reaching out a hand to put to the side of his young face. When he didn’t pull away from her, she realized just how truly awful the night must have been on him. Carefully, she navigated her way to the table chairs and pulled Trunks down beside her. The pain that she had seen on his countenance had not left him, but instead had worsened. Wide eyes stared at the floor, while he gasped to regain his breath after his wild eruption. He looked as if he was trying desperately not to lose himself and break down sobbing on her shoulder like he had used to when he was just a tiny boy. It struck her then harder than ever; he was still very young – just a teen, and yet he had become so old… She looked in face sometimes and all she saw was the deepest kind of sadness. Children weren’t supposed to have to live like that… “Trunks,” She began quietly. “Please honey, tell me what happened…” She couldn’t help but see the pain that intensified in his already clouded eyes as she spoke. He could barely manage to shake his head and swallow hard. “It…it was awful…” He murmured quietly after a moment. His voice was broken to pieces, his strong façade beginning to crumble under his mother’s penetrating gaze. “It destroyed everything…I-I --” He turned his face as far from her as he could shamefully. “I don’t think that I can stop the Jinzouningen, mother!” Bulma couldn’t stop the wave of hopelessness that flooded her heart as those words rushed past her. Her poor baby… Then, out of nowhere, a thought struck her like thunder. She had been waiting for the longest time to reveal her special project to her son. Deep down, she had been waiting for the last straw to be broken – where there would be no other hope left. There had been times that she felt sorry for holding back for so long – may be if she had developed it sooner, then Kuririn, Yamcha…Vejiita… Maybe then they wouldn’t have had to die… Pushing back the surge of regret, Bulma blinked back the tears and gazed fondly at her son. He was all that was left, her last link to life. If now wasn’t a time desperate enough then darn her if there ever would be. It was time to show him… “Come with me, Trunks.” She said suddenly, pulling him up and then along by the hand. “There’s something that I need to show you – something that I’ve been working on for a long, long time…” ***** Kuririn was off on his own in the midst of one of the many ghost cities that now littered the planet Earth. He worked his way along quietly, hopping from building to building. Usually he’d have been enjoying himself, but not today… Juuhachigou had sent him off, or course. His objective? To look for more humans. He sighed to himself at the thought. It was only the day after that last night’s massacre, and already she was after more people to destroy. To him, it seemed as if she was obsessed in the worst kind of way. Despite this, his conviction to tell her so was not strong. It had to be understood that he really didn’t have anyway to say; “killing is wrong…” It was just a feeling. He couldn’t remember why, or how he knew that; all that he knew was that it was. Needless to say, this was not a very convincing argument – especially to someone whose understanding of right and wrong was probably equally as confused as his. And unfortunately, last night had not been a great bridge in the two’s understanding of each other… Before he had set out that morning, tension had been terrible between them, though he hadn’t the courage to say anything directly, or to resist her order to go out searching. For as long as he was searching, he was not killing. Juuhachigou said he didn’t have to kill the humans – if he did other things for her… Was that okay then? For him to aid in the destruction, but not to himself commit it? He wasn’t sure. His gut made him think that it wasn’t much better, but ultimately he always ended up back at that nice gray perspective of life in which he was never sure of anything… What had happened to him? He sometimes wondered. When he had been reborn, woken from that eternal sleep; his mind had not by far been so utterly frustrated as it was now. He hadn’t even really known what it was to hurt accept on the most instinctual level. The world had been painted a pure, beautiful white, and he was happy. Now his mind had become a great mess – filled with guilt like he had never felt before, or at least couldn’t remember feeling. And confusion! The normal general disorientation had been tripled and quadrupled. More than anything else that Juuhachigou had managed to teach him in their short time together, she had bewildered his view of morality. All he knew was Juuhachigou, and Juuhachigou was a murderess. She had saved his life, and that was a good thing. She had helped him to fly, and given him an identity – that was good too. …Then she destroyed an entire city of people. This perplexed Kuririn. What was right? Was what he felt in his heart right, or was Juuhachigou correct about this as well? He sighed deeply, landing lightly on the edge of a short, stubby building. He looked out over the horizon quietly, trying to stop his mind from churning so much. Maybe, he thought, if he didn’t think so much about it, the answer would come to him. Abruptly, he was alerted to a small noise to his left and curiously turned around to find the source. He was shocked when a small group of people walked slowly into his view form down the road. They marched slowly, as if on the brink of exhaustion. It was obvious that they had come a long way – probably to escape their home for fear of the Jinzouningen. Kuririn was stuck with pity for them. How unfortunate that they had just happened to walk right into the most dangerous place they could possibly be. If Juuhachigou saw them, then they would be sitting ducks for her attack… Tired and able to go no further, the humans finally stopped and almost collapsed at the side of the road. One little girl ran quickly to her mother and jumped into her arms. Even the men looked about ready to drift off. “Haven’t we gone far enough, Mommy?” The voice of the child drifted softly to Kuririn’s ears. The woman exchanged glances with one whom was apparently her husband longingly. A moment later, the man nodded glumly. It seemed as though they would be staying for the night… Again, Kuririn was struck by the irony of their position. Why of all places had they chosen to stop here? So close to Satan City and the last remaining cyborg? Sitting down where he stood, Kuririn elected to observe from quietly from a distance for a while. Though he didn’t realize in until later, something in him pulled him to stay close to these, some of the few members of his own race that he could remember seeing. He propped his chin on his palm. The father and an older male child went of soon after their break, looking around some of the building for any form of suitable shelter. Everyone else stayed close together where they had stopped. There was that one little girl though, who hopped out of her mother’s arms and skipped happily around, looking here and there, and generally searching for nothing in that childish, pointless way. Kuririn watched her carefully as she neared a small collapsed shop, which from the busted sign had probably at one time been the city’s main supplier of food capsules. The child probably wasn’t old enough to read this, but her search was nonetheless rewarded. “Daddy! Daddy!” She suddenly shrieked, frantically scrabbling at the small loose pebbles at the base of a chuck of fallen ceiling material. “Look! Capsules!” Those magic words seemed to be the most blessed that any in the crowd had ever heard, and all came running as fast as they could. Bending down and discovering the same, the father called everyone together. “There’s a crate under there!” He said excitedly. “It might be food, but it’s wedged in tightly. We’ll have to try and lift it…” There was a murmur all around as they assembled about the huge chuck of cement. With a heave, they pulled together with all of their might. As they struggled to lift the large slab, Kuririn felt a tugging at his heart. They would never be able to lift it by themselves. The small group was far too few, and mostly made up of children. Something in his disconnected, confused mind dimly recognized them as a family… Finally, the group gave up and fell back. The smallest child fell to her rear end, breathing heavily. Even from a distance, Kuririn spotted the tearful, longing look that the girl had on her face as she stared longingly at the small crate of capsules lodged beneath the concrete slab. It was one of life’s cruelest agonies. Food was quite possible right there within an arm’s reach, and it was impossible to get to it… Watching form the pillar, the former Zed fighter was experiencing an impulsive urge carried over from his past. More than anything and for some reason that he couldn’t explain, he felt compelled to help those people… Something in him just felt duty-bound…something was just whispering… Kuririn found himself shaking his head violently, snapping him out of something like a trance. He gasped, putting a hand to his head dizzily. What was I thinking? He thought to himself. For just the barest second, it had been like he was someone else; someone who was like him, but somehow strangely distant… “I’m loosing it…” He muttered to himself. “That is, more than I’m already gone…” He cast a glace over at the grouping. They were still trying furiously, but it was doing very little good. As he watched, he again experienced that strange feeling – the one that said go! Help them! Kuririn uneasily stood. Muttering under his breath about what Juuhachigou would say if he knew what he was about to do, he jumped softly to the ground, being careful not to make any noise or attract attention. He decided that it would be better if he remained unseen at all cost – the better for the both of them. Juuhachigou might not rip his vocal cords from his throat if he just saw the people, but he was pretty sure that she wouldn’t like it if he spoke to them, and then just let them get away… Edging his way quietly around to the back side of the slab, he crept up to the rock. Thankfully, it was large enough that he was blotted out from view. He waited until they people were done resting. “Okay, let’s try it once more…” The man said. As they heaved mightily in vain, Kuririn’s face took on a soft smile and he wrapped his fingers around the edge of the rough material. With slight effort and a soft grunt, the mass slowly but surly lifted. There were gasps and grunt on the other side, and the mother quickly grabbed up the crate from underneath. The other family member clung to the rock for dear life, not knowing that it wasn’t really themselves that were holding the weight. Kuririn’s smile grew wider. This was going perfectly. And it continued so…for a total of at least two and half more seconds… Two huge blue curious eyes suddenly popped out of the shadows that fringed Kuririn’s side. He nearly dropped his load as he realized that he had been caught. The child’s eyes studied his face for a moment, and then traveled up his muscled arms to the massive rock that he supported on his palms. As she realized it was he that was holding up the weight, she looked awed. Then the little girl’s face cracked into a huge smile. “Mommy!” She cried, lifting her head. “There is somebody over here, and I think he’s an angel!” The result of her outcry was instantaneous. The party of five let go of the rock and though Kuririn tried to hurriedly put it back down as well, the rock stayed in the air by itself long enough to reveal his presence. The father rushed to the girl’s side, whom was by this time hopping up and down and clapping her little hands happily. “It an angel, daddy!” She squealed, pointing to a panicked Kuririn. “Just like I prayed for!” The rest of the family had by this time gathered at her side. Their faces were slack with amazement. The oldest boy took a step forward and pointed at Kuririn. “You lifted that thing?” He stammered. Kuririn nodded hesitantly. “You kinda looked like you could use some help…” He said quietly. Only the little girl didn’t seem surprised. She skipped merrily over to him, dodging as her mother cried her name and tried to stop her. She smiled broadly, eyes shinning with admiration for the small, threadbare warrior. “Thank you so much, angel!” She cried, and clamped her arms around Kuririn’s knees before he could jump back. He sweat dropped as the little child grasp him even harder in her gratitude. “I just knew that you would help us!” Kuririn was unsure of how to respond. “Uh…your welcome…” The father strutted over and pried the child away from him, straightening up slowly. He stared at the young man in front of him nervously. He was beginning to believe that maybe all his youngest daughter chattering about her angels that were coming might have had some truth to it… As he handed the child to her mother, the girl began to struggle. “Hey!” She cried in an outraged voice. “I want to talk to my angel some more!” “He is not an angel, sweetie…” Her mother scolded. Kuririn didn’t think he had ever heard a truer statement. Then the woman’s faced softened as she gazed at Kuririn. “But he is a very nice man…” She smiled at him. “Thank you for your help. I was beginning to think that we would never get that crate.” Kuririn remained silent and motionless. The other children where still gawking, but eventually they came to their senses enough to utter thanks as well. The father smiled and stretched out his broad hand to the diminutive fellow. “My name’s Mochizuki. Who are you?” Kuririn stared at his hand, but made no move to return the gesture. Realizing these people were waiting for a response, he thought quickly. He remembered Juuhachigou’s warning to him not to tell anyone his name. “I…can’t tell you my name.” He finally said, fidgeting nervously. There was a silent exchange of odd looks between the father and mother, whom where probably wondering what kind of person couldn’t even share their name... Other questions arose. “Where is your family?” The mother asked, troubled. There was a pause. “I am alone.” Kuririn finally said quietly after a moment’s contemplation. Sympathy almost immediately took over the mother’s face as she assumed that he meant his family had been killed. So many others out there had suffered that cruel fate. There was scarce a person left in their world that had not lost a loved one. She looked at him sadly. “You poor thing…” She murmured. “You’ve been living out here all alone?” There was no response, and so the woman looked to her husband. “Why couldn’t he come with us, dear?” She asked him, eyes pleading. “To be in this lonely place by himself…” Kuririn cut her off before the man could decide. “I can’t come with you…” He said, and for some reason he felt his heart twinge. There were few more questions asked after that, as it seemed the people had realized they would get little more out of this strange fellow that appeared almost out of nowhere. They decided just to go ahead and get ready for the coming night. “NO!” The words were out of Kuririn’s mouth before he could stop himself. They looked back at him, and Kuririn knew that he had to warn them. He wouldn’t let these people stay here to die. “What’s wrong, Angel?” The little girl asked. “You have to get out of here!” He said in a raised voice, gesturing toward the far road. “It’s not safe!” “What?” Asked the man. “What are you talking about?” Kuririn knew he would be unable to explain himself. He looked at each of them frantically. “If you stay you’ll be dead by morning. Belief me and go!” He said. Fortunately, the people seemed convinced he was trustworthy and decided to do as he asked. With only a few puzzled stares, they prepared for the trip. They waved good-bye to him as they left, and he waved back. The mother looked back over her shoulder and smiled at him. “I hope you find where you belong!” She called in a fading voice. Kuririn watching them go until they nearly vanished. The memories of the little girl and the family he knew would stay with him fresh for a long time. Something about them had captivated him. If anything, his mind was more heavily muddled than before. Where do I belong? The question resounded through his head. |
| A Fading Ki |
| Chapter 4 - Unanswered Questions |
| Author: Swiss Army Knife Email: dragonswissarmyknife@hotmail.com |
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