Notes: I decided to give a long peek into Eschalot's timeline. It really is long enough to be a full chapter... but sometimes I'm picky that way.

Chapter Summary: Bulma and Chi-Chi are the permanent guests of the Saiya-jin Empire. Where Chi-Chi finds acceptance and family, Bulma finds pain and solitude.

Bulma's Suggestion Box
A Dragon Ball Super Fanfic by
Nate Grey (xman0123-at-aol-dot-com)
USA2-2b: Interlude: The Chosen Pair

In A Timeline Not So Far Away...

"Good morning, Beerus-sama," Whis greeted as his master began to stir from slumber. "I hope you slept well?"

Beerus yawned loudly and scratched his cheek as he sat up in bed. "Ah, Whis. Anything urgent to report?"

"Nothing that cannot wait until you're up and about, my lord. Though, I do believe there is a matter that you might wish to deal with sooner rather than later, for your own amusement if nothing else."

"Oh? And what's that?"

"Frieza, my lord. It seems his ambitious nature has finally grown beyond what it considered wise or acceptable."

Beerus laughed. "I suppose he finally killed his own father, then?"

"His entire family, actually," Whis corrected, summoning a holographic display of the relevant images with a tap of his staff. "Frieza now controls King Cold's entire empire. As Frieza was already the public face of the empire, the transition was very smooth... for Frieza, anyway."

"Which means he killed anyone who he thought might complain too loudly."

"Essentially. He's even developed a habit of beheading his enemies and encasing their heads in jars, as trophies. But it's his current pursuits that will hold your interest. Shortly before King Cold was killed, he advised Frieza that there were only two forces he should never seek battle with. You were the first, of course, my lord."

Beerus merely nodded. "And the second?"

"Majin Buu. Except, where once Frieza merely would have accepted this and moved on, this time he was terribly interested in Buu. To the point where there could only be one possible conclusion."

"Buu cannot be controlled, not dependably by anyone outside his creator's family. So the only possible interest Frieza could have is in destroying him. And Frieza would only do that because he wants to defeat a god-slayer... and then take the title for himself, by killing me. You're right, Whis. He really is too ambitious for his own good."

"So? What shall you do, my lord?"

"I'll destroy him, of course," Beerus replied simply. "Eventually. But I haven't had my breakfast yet, and I want to see how far Frieza gets in his quest first. Then I'll destroy him. Just to rub more salt into his wounds."

"Please, Master Roshi!" Ox-King blubbered, with tears pouring down his face and snot dripping from his nose. He lowered his massive head until it was touching the ground. "Please save my precious Chi-Chi!"

For his part, Master Roshi observed his former student in total silence. He knew that the request was genuine, heartfelt, and surely made with the best intentions. Ox-King did not have a subtle bone in his entire giant body. That was not the issue here.

The issue was that Roshi was lazy, and had no immediate plans to take on another student after so long. And especially not one that would come with her own set of unique challenges, far beyond what raising an average girl her age would include. There had never been any average girls in Ox-King's clan, from what Roshi knew. And if there had been, they either hadn't survived, or hadn't stayed average for very long.

Unfortunately, Roshi had a soft spot for his former students. If he really wanted to, he could kick Ox-King off of the island. Physically, even, if it came to that. Neither one would enjoy it, of course. Little Chi-Chi having to watch that done to her father would possibly make her lose all respect for him. And trying to shove her off on a hermit probably wasn't helping much, either.

"Look, Ox," Roshi said, trying to sound as feeble as he could. "I'd like to help you out. But do you really think this is a good idea?"

"It doesn't matter if it's a good idea! If she's focused on training, then I know she'll be safe!"

Roshi paused to take a long look at the girl, and not for the usual reasons. Chi-Chi was sitting near the shore, staring out at the sea. She didn't look sad, nor did she look happy. A little homesick perhaps, or possibly missing her mother, but both were likely pains she had become accustomed to by now.

Of course, the truly odd thing was that Turtle was keeping his distance from Chi-Chi. As a rule, he only avoided things that scared him, or things that might eat him. Roshi could not imagine that a cute girl like Chi-Chi had managed to scare Turtle, but the latter idea was not foreign to Ox-King's clan. Of course, out of respect for Roshi, they would never eat Turtle, and certainly they would not eat other turtles on his island. But if Turtle became aware of a new predator living on the island, he wasn't likely to forget it.

Roshi decided to try another tactic: appealing to Ox-King's fatherly pride. "Do you really think that leaving your young, impressionable daughter with me is a good idea? I'm not bragging when I say that I've never had a female student last more than three days with me."

To Roshi's shock, Ox-King laughed. "Oh, I'm not worried about that! My Chi-Chi needs your training, but even without it, she can take care of herself just fine already. There's not a boy for miles around that could mess with her."

"I think that has more to do with her living with you," Roshi muttered. "Surely you remember enough of your training to make a halfway decent teacher? There's no reason you-"

With a deep sigh, Ox-King removed his helmet, revealing enlarged, blood-red eyes. "I just can't, Master Roshi," he whispered. "I-I'm not safe. And it's not safe for Chi-Chi to be around me anymore, not until I can get myself under control."

"I see," Roshi replied, now with a better understanding of why Ox-King had been so insistent. "But tell me truthfully, Ox: don't you think Chi-Chi is more likely to fall victim to your clan's curse, the more people she meets? I can't imagine that living with you gives her many chances to have guests."

"That's true," Ox-King agreed, replacing his helmet on his head. "But none of that matters anymore. Last night, I lost control, and I... I hit Chi-Chi. I've never done that before. She wasn't hurt, not really, or at least that's what she says. But she looks at me differently now, and I know if I don't do something to fix this, I may lose my daughter for good. Either because of my curse, or hers."

"And you're absolutely sure that you can do this on your own?" Roshi asked.

"I have to. It's the only way anyone has ever gotten the curse under control. If I can't, then I wasn't worthy of being her father in the first place, and Chi-Chi would be better off without me."

Roshi shook his head. "Fine, if you're going to be so dramatic about it, she can stay. Take all the time you need to get yourself fixed."

Ox-King bowed to his old teacher. "Thank you so much, Master Roshi! I promise you won't regret it! My Chi-Chi is a very hard worker, and I'm sure she'll do your school proud!" He paused, then sniffled. "Just give me a minute to say goodbye to my little girl, and then she's all yours."

"That's fine," Roshi said with a nod as he turned to go into his house. "I'll go and get her a training outfit."

Ox-King took a deep breath and slowly walked toward his daughter, who stood up and turned to him as he got close. "It's all arranged, honey," he said softly. "Master Roshi has agreed to teach you, just as he did for me when I was young."

"I still think this is a mistake, Papa," Chi-Chi told him. "If this is about last night, I've forgiven you! Nothing has changed!"

"You're scared of me now," Ox-King whispered. "And the weight of last night has been added to my curse. I see it every time I look at you. If we stay together, it will mean the end of one or both of us. I owe your poor mother's memory more than that. I won't bring further shame onto our clan. There is already so much that I need to make up for. I can't do that if I remain a monster."

"But no one here will understand me like you do!" Chi-Chi pleaded. "Even that turtle is afraid of me already!"

That was troubling news to Ox-King. Animals had always been friendly with Chi-Chi. If that gift was fading, it was a clear sign that the strength of her curse was developing rapidly, and overwhelming the purity that had drawn animals to her.

"What have I always told you about friends, Chi-Chi?" he asked.

Chi-Chi sighed. "If I lose one, just make another."

"Then that should be your first task here. Find an animal that isn't afraid of you."

"You'll come back for me, right?" Chi-Chi demanded, grabbing his huge hand.

"I promise I will," Ox-King swore.

"You better! If you don't, I'll come and find you, once I'm done here!"

He smiled fondly. "I know you will. Work hard, my darling Chi-Chi. Be a better student to Master Roshi than I was."

Chi-Chi burst into tears and threw herself at his chest, latching on with all of her strength. "I love you, Papa! Always!"

Ox-King gently stroked her head. "Thank you, Chi-Chi. I love you, too. The next time we see each other, I truly believe you will have surpassed me. Maybe then you can teach me a thing or two."

That first day, Master Roshi quickly proved himself both a pervert, and a true taskmaster. Chi-Chi did not like to think that she had been spoiled, as she had done plenty of chores around her father's castle. But she could honestly say that she had never worked so hard in her life. Still, she suspected that Roshi had given her the exact same training that he would any male student, which was good. If she was going to be strong enough to bear and master her curse, then she could not have Roshi handling her softly because she was a girl.

On the other hand, because she was a girl, Chi-Chi realized that depending on Roshi for certain things was totally out of the question. For example, if she hadn't put her foot down and insisted on making dinner, they likely would have ended up eating that mystery container with brown fur growing on it that Roshi had found deep in his icebox. Fearing that Roshi might approach washing dishes with equal inattention, she had kicked him out of the kitchen entirely. Which was fine with him, as he was already glued to his television, watching another of his women's fitness shows. And not so he would learn relevant techniques to pass on to Chi-Chi, either.

Once she had cleared the table and left the dishes to soak, Chi-Chi stepped outside Roshi's house for some fresh air.

"You smell good," said a voice near her feet.

Chi-Chi looked down to see what she first mistook for a snapping turtle slowly moving toward her. But as their eyes locked, she knew instinctively that she was wrong. "Do you... have demon blood?" she asked softly.

"If you would ask that, then you must have it," the creature said. "Must be why you smell so nice to me."

"I didn't think I would find anyone here who could really understand me." Chi-Chi knelt down and offered her hand to the creature. "Will you please be my friend?"

"Nobody has ever asked me that." The creature sniffed her hand, then nuzzled against her palm. "They call me Baby Gamera."

"My name is Chi-Chi. It's very nice to meet you, new friend." Chi-Chi stroked his head and neck eagerly, happy she had found someone like her.

"Since you're a girl, and you're here, I should warn you about Master Roshi," Baby Gamera said.

Chi-Chi laughed. "You don't need to, I've seen him in action already. Would you like to come inside for a snack?"

Baby Gamera shook his head. "I don't much like houses. Not enough room to move around. But I wouldn't say no to some fish or vegetables every now and then."

"I made salads for dinner. I'll bring you one!" Chi-Chi sprang to her feet and rushed into the house.

"Sounds like you two are getting along well," Roshi said calmly as he walked around the side of the house.

Baby Gamera stared at him. "You must have expected that we would. You never summon me anymore, and you have never asked me to just to hang around the house."

"That girl is from a half-demon clan," Roshi said. "I thought you might be the only one who could truly understand her. She could use a friend who won't judge her as humans would."

"And I wouldn't mind a master who actually has a need for me," Baby Gamera countered.

"Turning your back on me, eh? Well, it's for a good cause, so I won't complain."

A grinning Master Roshi giggled gleefully and wiped the blood from his nose as Bulma shoved her shirt back down, blushing. It was not so much that she minded flashing the old man to get a favor. It was the fact that she'd done it with Yamcha standing just outside in the hallway. He had been against the scheme, of course, but Bulma had been convinced that Roshi was harmless, and flashing an old pervert was probably the least difficult thing she'd had to do while on their quest for the Dragon Balls.

Even now, Bulma could not believe how lucky she'd been. When she had found the first Dragon Ball in her basement, she'd actually thought getting the rest would be easy enough where she could do it largely alone. Oh, she'd taken a few capsulized vehicles and helper robots, thinking that would be enough... until she nearly got herself killed in the failed attempt to obtain the second Dragon Ball. A little traumatized by the experience, but still determined, she'd put out an ad for an experienced bodyguard-slash-adventurer, and Yamcha had answered the call. He passed all of her requirements, one of which Bulma wasn't ashamed to admit was that he be good-looking. His constant companion, Puar, had quickly proven her usefulness, as well. And if not for Puar wanting to help a stranded turtle, they never would have found Roshi in the first place. With Yamcha and Puar helping, Bulma increased her Dragon Ball count from one to five... which left her with a problem she'd had from the start of her quest. Two Dragon Balls seemed to be gathered in a single area. Seemed to be, because they vanished from her Dragon Radar every so often, no matter how many times Bulma adjusted it. But as she'd suspected, Roshi was both old and influential enough where he knew some things about the Dragon Balls that were not common knowledge.

"I really appreciate the peek, Bulma," Roshi said, still chuckling, "but I'm afraid that you may have wasted your time and effort. I don't think you'll ever be able to get the last two Dragon Balls."

Bulma glared at him. "And why not?! You said you'd give me a Dragon Ball for that peek!"

"Actually," Roshi corrected her, "I said I'd be happy to give you the one Dragon Ball I had. You know, past tense. As in I don't have it anymore." Noticing Bulma's furious expression, he quickly backed up. "But don't worry, I know exactly where it is!"

"Then cough up the info right now, old man!" Bulma demanded. "And if I find out you're lying to me, I'll have Yamcha rearrange your face!"

Roshi merely raised an eyebrow at this threat. He wasn't in peak shape anymore. And he could tell that Yamcha had some skill, and was clearly much more talented than the average human. But Roshi was still confident that he'd forgotten more about martial arts than Yamcha had ever learned, so if it came down to a fight between them, he was not worried about his chances of escaping unscathed. But he also saw no reason to educate Bulma or her companions on this matter, for now. He didn't mind Bulma being a little cheeky, in large part because it required her to appear before him, which he really enjoyed.

"No need for any of that, now," Roshi said. "I asked a former student of mine to guard my Dragon Ball from unworthy seekers. She lives near a forest, in the East District of Mount Paozu."

At this, Yamcha burst into the room. "You mean the Cursed Foothills?!" he cried.

Roshi blinked. "Ah, so you're already familiar with the area?"

Yamcha glared at him before turning to Bulma. "I think this old man really did trick you, Bulma. It's not technically impossible, but this quest just got a lot harder. That region is plagued by an eternal lightning storm. I bet that's why your Dragon Radar hasn't been reliable: interference from the storm. Every creature that lives there is super strong and extra mean by necessity." Yamcha paused and swallowed hard, suddenly becoming extremely nervous. "And then... there's the Demon Maiden."

Bulma stared at him with a frown. Though Puar had warned her of Yamcha's fear of women, Bulma had seen for herself that Yamcha had relaxed considerably, at least around her. "Who is that?"

"They say she's the only human that lives there, and that's only because of her demon blood. There's a red aura around her constantly, and she's supposed to have the strength of a thousand men, and an extremely short fuse. She kills anything that crosses-"

"No, no, no," Roshi interrupted, waving Yamcha off. "That's only partially true. Like I said, she's guarding my Dragon Ball. And doing a good job of it, if this is how the world sees her. I didn't expect her to go find another one, but I guess she got bored."

There was an extended pause, only broken when Puar fainted in mid-air, falling limply into Bulma's arms.

"You trained the Demon Maiden?!" Yamcha screamed in shock.

"No need to shout, I'm not deaf yet," Roshi replied calmly. "And you should probably stop calling her that, if you want any chance of getting any Dragon Balls from her. Her name is Chi-Chi, and making her angry is the worst thing you could do."

"But... if you trained her, that means she's not a crazed killer?" Bulma asked.

"Well," Roshi said slowly, as if he had to think about it, which drew increasingly concerned looks. "It's more accurate to say she isn't always that way. But if she decides that the situation warrants it, I can't guarantee your safety. And that's why I warn you: don't make her angry."

"Can't you talk to her for us?" Bulma pleaded.

"Wouldn't do any good," Roshi replied, tugging on his beard. "When I gave her the Dragon Ball, I told her to protect it from anyone unworthy... which, if she's been keeping tabs on me, includes me, now. She'd just chase me off instead of killing me, but you're still down two Dragon Balls either way. No, your best chance is to find a way to reason with her. You absolutely cannot defeat her in a fight."

"You want us to talk to her?!" Yamcha asked in disbelief.

"I don't see why not. I did, and it worked out fine. Although it helped that I had something she needed, and we had a mutual acquaintance that introduced us. Oh, but even if he was around, he wouldn't help you, either, so don't even think about bothering him with this. In fact, he'd certainly kill you if you explained what you wanted."

"Why is everyone you know a killer?!" Bulma wailed.

Roshi could have told them, then: it wasn't that everyone he knew was a killer, but that the two former students in question were related, and as such, suffered from the same cursed heritage. But that wasn't his truth to tell, and if these three seekers were indeed worthy, they might find out for themselves. And if they weren't? He wouldn't have to worry about what they did or didn't know for much longer. But, he reasoned, he should probably beg Bulma to pose for a quick photo, since he might never see her again...

"The pterodactyls say they saw humans headed this way in a car."

Chi-Chi slowly opened her eyes and raised her head. "How many?"

"Two, and only one of them looks like a fighter. Do you want us to chase them off?"

"No." She slowly stood up and stretched her arms. "It's been a while since we last had anyone both brave and skilled enough to get this far. I should at least reward them with an appearance. After all, it is my duty, Gamera-chan."

The turtle-like creature closed its eyes in pleasure as Chi-Chi tenderly scratched its head. "You know every beast here obeys you, without question. It would be simple-"

"True. But this is my burden. Not theirs." Chi-Chi calmly exited the hut, and was immediately greeted by a massive tyrannosaurus... but the dinosaur merely lowered its head in submission, then opened its mouth, revealing a crimson pole tucked neatly between two of its front teeth. Chi-Chi retrieved the pole and gave the dinosaur a grateful pat. It moved aside at once, joining the vast collection of beasts that had gathered around her tiny hut. Each of them was ready to serve, attack, even die on her command. But it was just another part of the curse that she hated.

"Go," she ordered. "This is my fight."

Every creature scattered at once, save for Baby Gamera, her faithful companion and first true friend, who joined her outside the hut. "Maybe this time will be different," he offered, sounding less hopeful and more darkly amused than anything else.

"Maybe," Chi-Chi allowed, but the ever-present red glow around her body grew stronger and brighter, as it always did when selfish men were near.

They didn't have to wait long.

In just a few minutes, the car came into view, mud-splashed and dented in various places, but somehow intact. It seemed just as determined as its driver, a wild-eyed man with black hair. He was the fighter, Chi-Chi knew at once.

The car came to a stop a safe distance away, and the passengers got out. Chi-Chi blinked momentarily when she saw the small, blue cat-like creature riding on the woman's shoulder, but ultimately dismissed them as unimportant. That is, until the woman spoke.

"Are you Chi-Chi? The Ox-King's daughter?"

She could not remember the last time anyone had asked her that. "I am," Chi-Chi replied. "How do you know of my clan?"

"We're friends of Master Roshi," the man said. "He said we could have his Dragon Ball, but that we would have to get it, and the last ball, from you."

"And did he tell you how you could do that?"

The man frowned. "He... said that fighting you was pointless."

"Very true," Chi-Chi agreed smugly. "No man that has come before me, seeking the Dragon Ball through force, has succeeded. And some of them have been much stronger than you. So, what will you do? I will not simply give you a treasure that I have been tasked to protect."

The woman spoke up again. "Master Roshi said you were guarding them from unworthy people. Is there some way we could prove ourselves worthy?"

Chi-Chi laughed. "There is indeed, but I don't much like your chances. Still, your odds are slightly better with that route."

"What do we have to do?"

"Nothing," Chi-Chi responded. "It's what I have to do." She took a step forward, her eyes taking on a red glow.

The man and woman backpedaled, but Chi-Chi did not advance any further, even though her glare made them expect an ambush at any moment.

Finally, though, the red faded from Chi-Chi's eyes. "You are not worthy," she said simply. "Please leave now."

"W-Wait!" the woman protested. "What did you do?! Why aren't we worthy?!"

"I have been cursed with a power, and one of its aspects is the ability to read the hearts of men. I know what you two would have wished for, and both wishes are equally foolish, selfish, and worst of all, pointless!"

The man glared at her. "There's no way you could know-"

"You would have wished to rid yourself of your fear of women," Chi-Chi interrupted.

The man's face turned bright red. "T-That's not-!"

"And you," Chi-Chi said, turning to the woman, "would have wished for a perfect boyfriend."

"What's so wrong with either of those wishes?" the woman demanded, blushing herself.

"I've already said. But if you need a better explanation, fine." Chi-Chi pointed at the man. "You, what is your name?"

He hesitated. "I'm... Yamcha?"

"Yamcha, you have a fear of women." She pointed at his companion. "Do you fear this woman?"

"I... well, not anymore," he admitted.

"Then your wish is already granted, you fool. Figure out why you are no longer afraid of her, and either apply that to every other woman you meet, or marry this one, so you never have to worry about other women."

Yamcha was extremely red now and glancing nervously at his companion. "I... but that... guh!"

"What is your name?" Chi-Chi asked, pointing at the woman.

"Bulma," the woman answered, "but-"

"You want the perfect boyfriend for you." She pointed to Yamcha. "Here is a man who willingly followed you into danger, and fears you just enough to obey you for the rest of his life. Marry him. Wish granted. You are both fools, to come this far for wishes you not only could have granted yourselves, but have already begun to. But since you have come this far, I will reward you."

"You'll give us the Dragon Balls?" Bulma asked excitedly.

Chi-Chi smiled. "No. You will give me your Dragon Balls, and I will grant you the rare honor of allowing you to see the Eternal Dragon."

"What?! No way!"

"I don't recall asking." Chi-Chi snapped her fingers, and Bulma screamed in fear as they were instantly surrounded by fierce creatures of all shapes and sizes.

"You can give me your Dragon Balls, or I can take them," Chi-Chi said. "I have no preference either way. But my friends here are almost always hungry, so I can tell you what they prefer."

"Stop! We'll give them to you!" Yamcha shouted.

"A wise choice. I'm afraid I'll have to bind and gag you, so that you don't get any funny ideas. But once my wish is granted, as a favor to my former master, I will allow you to leave unharmed. In fact, I will have some of my friends escort you to the boundary of Mount Paozu."

Bulma hadn't understood, or hadn't wanted to understand, why Chi-Chi considered their wishes to be selfish. But once she heard Chi-Chi's own wish, it all became clear.

Bulma and Yamcha had wanted to wish for things that they themselves could achieve, on their own, with a little effort. But Chi-Chi had wished for something that, once Bulma understood the full implications of it, could only have been granted by the Dragon Balls.

Chi-Chi was descended from a warrior clan that had once destroyed a shrine. As punishment, they were cursed to absorb the sinful nature of any human who approached them. Every sin absorbed would make them stronger, but the stronger they became, the more bloodthirsty they became. The clan members, unable to control themselves, turned on each other, and nearly wiped themselves out entirely. But the few survivors, desperate to avoid such horrible ends, pledged themselves to the serve the Earth and its guardian for the rest of their lives. In return for their service, the madness that blanketed their minds after absorbing too many sins was lifted, yet it was still impossible for them to live peacefully among people.

Even in that situation, Bulma would have wished for the curse to be lifted. But Chi-Chi had only asked that the curse not be passed on to her children. She cared not for herself, but only that her her offspring not be forced to share her burden. And for that, she was willing to die with her curse.

It was an unselfish wish. The sort of request that the Dragon Balls were truly intended to grant. The kind of wish that it was worth searching the world for the Dragon Balls in order to grant. Bulma couldn't truthfully say that about her or Yamcha's wish, both of which likely could have been granted by a self-help book or a little determination. And, if Bulma were being totally honest with herself, she had been hoping that Yamcha would want to stick around, even after he got paid. Which he did. But it still took some urging from Puar, who had become quite fond of Bulma. And, too, Bulma was certain that her family being wealthy had at least something to do with it. But, in the end, Yamcha stayed. And yet, she was never sure that he would have, if Chi-Chi hadn't stated the obvious.

So as much as Bulma didn't like that Chi-Chi had practically stolen the right to make a wish from her, a little more than a year later, Bulma was standing outside that tiny hut again, this time holding only two Dragon Balls... both of which she handed to Chi-Chi without a word.

"You don't want to make a wish?" Chi-Chi asked knowingly.

Bulma shook her head. "Whether it was what I truly wanted, you were right: I got what I would have wished for. He's not perfect, but he is perfect for me: a project that I still haven't gotten tired of improving."

"No regrets?"

"Only that we didn't meet you sooner." Bulma hesitated. "Do you need anything? Food? Water? I could-"

Chi-Chi shook her head. "I appreciate the offer. But I think we both have exactly what we need now."

They were far too different to be friends, Bulma decided later. Or at least, that must have been what they each thought. Because as Bulma went on to make first her life, and then the lives of humanity more comfortable, she noticed that Chi-Chi was doing the same, in her own way. Although, Chi-Chi's way involved saving the planet from evil armies and immortal demons, and tended to be a bit more exciting when it got news coverage. And as convenient as being able to pack everything you owned into a capsule was, there was something far more reassuring, knowing the most powerful woman on the planet would rise to the challenge if ever there was a major threat to Earth.

But even Bulma, one of the few who knew, forgot: Chi-Chi's clan was cursed to take on the evils of men. Human men. Not evil aliens who turned into giant apes, some of whom were born with even more strength than Chi-Chi had struggled to control as a child. So despite being the Earth's best defense against the Saiya-jin, she never stood a chance. She wasn't supposed to win, however. She was only supposed to try. That would be enough: to ensure her survival, and guarantee the realization of her wish. Chi-Chi's children would indeed be born without her curse. Because the curse was tied to the planet and its wicked people. Chi-Chi's children would never set foot on Earth, and the only other Earthling they did have any dealings with was Bulma.

What Bulma remembered best about that day was the fear and stillness.

She woke up in Vegeta's space pod, tightly bound and gagged. About the only motion she was free to make was turning her head from side to side. The rest of her body had been encased in some curious green substance, and likely to save on space, Vegeta had folded her arms and knees close to her chest beforehand. The resulting cramping aches were the least of Bulma's worries at the moment.

Bulma was in Vegeta's lap. There was really no avoiding this: the pod had not been designed for multiple occupants. Vegeta seemed to be asleep, but Bulma did not doubt his dark eyes would snap open in an instant if she tried anything suspicious.

Her gaze shifted to the control panel on the pod door. Without having seen Vegeta operate it, she didn't dare try to sabotage it. At worst, she might doom them both to death in space. Which might be worth it, if she could be sure that Vegeta would die. But the limits of his power were still unknown to her, and she didn't want to bet her own life on a maybe. She had some guesses as to the fate that awaited her at Vegeta's hands, but she knew for certain he could have killed her back on Earth. Whatever his plans for her, they involved keeping her alive. And, if the look in Vegeta's eyes had been any indication, unpleasant nights in his bed. If nothing else, Vegeta did not seem the type that would appreciate inner beauty in an ugly package. He had joked that Bulma's new scar added character, but still treated it with something to prevent infection. It was true enough that he saw value in Bulma's mind, but if she hadn't had a pretty face to go with it, she suspected she'd be dead already.

With resistance being too costly at the time, Bulma decided to wait.

By the time they landed (although to Bulma, the violent jarring motion that would have sent her headfirst into the control panel, had Vegeta not grabbed her in time, could hardly be called a proper landing), Vegeta was alert and as smug as ever. The only real comforts were that Vegeta removed all the binding expect the ones on her hands, and the sight of Chi-Chi emerging from the nearest pod. She was covered in dirt and blood from her fight against Kakarot, her clothing was ripped in places, and she was limping slightly, but she caught Bulma's gaze and nodded. Chi-Chi immediately blanked her expression once Kakarot emerged behind her.

Not for the first time, Bulma marveled at the fact that Chi-Chi had surely been the strongest woman on Earth... and that had meant nothing, when up against a Saiya-jin. Except that she had more to show Kakarot than Bulma had Vegeta, which was why Chi-Chi's fight had lasted as long as it did. And where Vegeta might have been keeping Bulma at least partially for her mind, it was clear that Kakarot was very interested in Chi-Chi's body. Bulma saw it in the way that he walked behind her, guiding Chi-Chi's steps with his hands on her shoulders. When he wanted her to turn, the corresponding hand would move to her waist, and linger longer than needed. The expected grimaces or complaints didn't come, however. Chi-Chi would glare at Kakarot at various points, but this only seemed to amuse him.

It must have been nice, considering. Vegeta practically dragged Bulma along by jerking her arm, hard. It got to the point where she was actually trying to keep up, but couldn't really manage it, because his patience was clearly shorter than his strides.

More alarming were the aliens. There were Saiya-jin, of course, but then Bulma would see purple skin, or an overly wide head, or far too many arms. Some of them barely glanced in her direction, but others stared with great interest. Bulma saw no other humans, not that she'd expected to, but it reminded her that, other than Chi-Chi, she was completely alone.

Suddenly, an enormous Saiya-jin blocked their path. Bulma immediately cringed, and realized for the first time that alien disinterest in her was not always a good thing. While the other aliens had apparently ignored her because she didn't interest them, in this case, she felt the disinterest was accompanied by a desire to erase her from existence as quickly as possible.

Kakarot was the first to speak, and he didn't seem worried. "What is it, Raditz?"

"Could be trouble," Raditz said. "Whis wants to see both of you, immediately." He paused, then added, "And your guests. He was very clear on that part."

Vegeta looked annoyed, but then, he almost always did to Bulma. "Did he say why?"

"He wants to perform their health scans personally."

Bulma didn't miss the way that both Vegeta and Kakarot then seemed marginally concerned, and she thought she knew why. Apparently this Whis had a position of authority, was a gentleman, and would not approve of typical Saiya-jin treatment of women. Well, she reasoned, the trouble couldn't happen to a more deserving pair of brutes, as far as she was concerned.

Raditz led the group to a large room that just screamed "infirmary" to Bulma. The walls were a soft green, there was a decidedly soapy scent in the air, and the walls were lined with man-sized tubes. And that was clearly exactly what they were for, as there were several Saiya-jin and a few other aliens floating in the tubes. Most were asleep, but a few turned as the group entered.

Standing in the center of the room was a tall, blue man with white hair, wearing a black robe and holding a staff taller than himself. Despite the coloring, he still struck Bulma as being the most humanoid alien she'd seen all day, even including the Saiya-jin, who more closely resembled humans with with ape features tossed in, which generally resulted in way too much muscle, height, or hair. And tails, couldn't forget those. But if she had seen this man on Earth, her first thought was that he might have just really been into a punk band.

"Ah, welcome home, you two," the blue man said, smiling at them. "You've been busy, I see. And such lovely guests you've returned with. Why don't we see what we can do about keeping them that way?"

Kakarot grinned as he moved Chi-Chi foward. "If you had asked us, we would have found a lady friend for you, too, Whis-san."

It was strange: though Whis kept his tone pleasant, and in no way overtly gave an order, Bulma could not shake the feeling that his suggestions were indeed commands, or at least were taken as such by the Saiya-jin. She also took that to mean that she and Chi-Chi would soon find themselves sealed into one of the healing tubes, but was quickly proven wrong.

Whis pointed the tip of his staff in Chi-Chi's direction. She instantly shifted her weight into a stance Bulma had seen many times, clearly expecting an attack. But Whis merely raised his staff again, staring the glowing wall of text that sprouted from the staff's tip and scrolled in front of his face. Once satisfied, he repeated the procedure on Bulma. Bulma couldn't be sure, but she thought her wall of text was much shorter than Chi-Chi's. Given how much more injured Chi-Chi was, this was not really surprising.

"I would say that the ladies both deserve plenty of rest," Whis stated. He looked directly at the Saiya-jin. "At least twelve uninterrupted hours should be sufficient. I'm sure they will need to adjust to the new course that their lives have taken. A bit of culture shock is expected."

Vegeta looked particularly grumpy about that. "You have never had so much interest in such matters, Whis-san."

"Perhaps you are to blame, for bringing home someone so truly interesting," Whis countered with a smirk. "Don't worry. I will not take her from you. But I would also hope that nothing you have in store for her deprives us of the lady's exquisite company. That would truly be a shame."

Bulma stared at Whis. Unless she was incredibly wrong, Whis had just ordered Vegeta not to seriously harm her. Vegeta's stony expression was all the confirmation that Bulma needed. Curiously, the same order was not given to Kakarot. But then, from what Bulma had seen, despite or even because Chi-Chi had been more injured, Kakarot hadn't really been rough with her. Handsy, certainly, but not rough. If anything, Chi-Chi's main complaint about Kakarot would probably be that he didn't touch her with intent to harm, which really only left one other possible intent, and she wasn't looking forward to experiencing it... even though Bulma believed that Kakarot almost had to be a much more pleasant bed-mate than Vegeta.

And while Bulma hadn't expected Whis to, he did explain his interference, though it only left her with more questions. "When I look at these women, I see my sister."

Kakarot blinked. "You see Vados in both of them?"

"You would not remember her, Kakarot. You were a baby the last time she was here. A perfect blend of strength and ingenuity... that was my sister. She was the one who blessed you, in fact."

"What does that mean, she blessed him?" Bulma asked before she could stop herself. Just the very idea of anyone wanting to bless a Saiya-jin was so foreign to her, that she had to voice it.

Vegeta's eyes snapped to her, and Bulma took a step back, not that it would do much good.

Whis held up a hand, and whatever Vegeta was thinking about doing, he immediately stopped. Or at least, wasn't going to do it in Whis's presence. "It's a very simple thing, really." Whis stepped forward, reached out, placed his thumb on the left side of Bulma's forehead, and then slowly dragged his thumb to the right side. "The Saiya-jin believe that anyone who has been touched in such a way, by one such as myself, is now blessed by the gods."

Bulma's eyes widened. "But... that means you just-!"

Whis turned away, and repeated the blessing on Chi-Chi, who was slightly more relaxed when he approached her that time. "Gentlemen, the women need their rest. Twelve hours, remember. I'm sure they'd like a chance to freshen up a bit, as well."

They separated then: Kakarot and Chi-Chi went off on their own, and because Vegeta didn't want the job, Raditz seemed to be the appointed tour guide for Bulma, much to his regret. He only pointed out two areas to Bulma. The first was a sort of junk room filled with used or broken technology. The second was a room that would become Bulma's, which was eqipped with a smaller, open-air version of a healing tube, a bed, and a bathroom. Bulma spent the twelve hours there, and was indeed well-rested, if not relaxed when they ended. Because the moment they did end, and she was able to count them off precisely by the alien timepiece built into the wall, the door opened, and Vegeta was there.

Bulma thought briefly of trying to use Whis's blessing as some sort of protection, but decided she lacked enough information to make that work. And for all she knew, while she and Vegeta were alone, Whis's authority might only be whatever Vegeta said it was. So she merely stood there and waited.

Vegeta glared at her for several seconds, then entered the room and shut the door behind him. "Why are you here, woman?" he demanded.

Bulma could only take that as a test, since they both knew perfectly well she was there because he'd dragged her there. "To breed with you." Inwardly, she appreciated the way his eyebrow twitched at her choice of phrase.

"Why else?" Vegeta insisted.

She stared at him. "Am I supposed to know what your tastes in women are?"

"You are not an idiot. Do not pretend that you are. Unless, of course, your goal is to anger me? I'll remind you that while I can't kill you, there are plenty of things that you can live through, while wishing you hadn't."

"On that much, we agree. Why do you think I was trying to kill you in the first place?"

"Exactly!" Vegeta said at once, his eyes alight with an intensity that scared Bulma as he stepped closer to her. "That's why you're here. Because you tried to kill me. And nearly succeeded. Despite your weakness, despite the fact that you should pose no threat to me at all, you nearly ended me, woman."

"And... you're a masochist?" Bulma guessed weakly.

"No. I am a prince, and I demand the best."

"So you really wanted Chi-Chi, and not me."

"No," Vegeta said, coming even closer. "You told me that she was the most powerful woman on your planet. And from what Kakarot said, she did put up a fight, but she never got anywhere close to hurting him. He's not a typical Saiya-jin, odd things have always amused him."

Bulma blinked. "And... people who want you dead, amuse you?"

"No. But people who get close to killing me, especially when they shouldn't, always hold my interest. If only long enough for me to kill them first. But you... are different."

"Because I'm a woman?"

"Because you will be my woman."

Bulma swallowed hard as Vegeta moved into her personal space. "You're... going to hurt me." It wasn't a question.

"Pain is a large part of Saiya-jin life," Vegeta admitted softly. "How much pain you experience will depend on how much and how fast you learn. And, on if you are a masochist."

"I'm not," Bulma said quickly.

"Then I suggest you learn very quickly, what it takes to be my woman."

"Maybe you could tell me-"

Vegeta's hand closed around her wrist. "I'll show you."

In those first few days, Chi-Chi heard the phrase over and over again: that Kakarot was odd for a Saiya-jin. She quickly came to appreciate the oddness: it was clear that Vegeta had claimed Bulma, physically and mentally, almost immediately after Whis's grace period had ended. Kakarot, however, seemed to have duties that kept him very busy for much of the day, and Chi-Chi was left alone in her room a great deal.

Until Kakarot showed up, always sweaty and usually bleeding, to use her shower and her bed, regardless of whether she was using either at the moment.

He did not force himself on her. He would tug away her wet towels and touch her bare skin as much as he wanted, but it seemed that holding her body close to his was enough, at least at first. And he would watch her, like a creepy stalker, no matter what she was doing at the time. Not because she was behaving suspiciously, but just because he enjoyed watching her. Chi-Chi stopped complaining about it very quickly, as she preferred his watching to his touching, not that she had any choice in either.

And then, one day, it made sense, when Kakarot sat up in her bed, leaned over her, and said, "Show me how you fight."

"You've already seen that," Chi-Chi snapped, suspecting he was insulting her strength.

Kakarot smiled. "Show me again."

"You already know you're stronger-"

"Show me." He ran a finger along her arm. "Unless you'd rather show me something else?"

Chi-Chi was on her feet in an instant. Scowling at Kakarot, she turned her back to him, and forced herself to calm down. Once her breathing evened out, she closed her eyes and started to stretch... only for her eyes to snap open as her extended fists bumped into Kakarot's chest. "How do you expect me to show-?!" she began, but his huge hands slowly enveloped hers, and she fell silent.

"Show me that beam attack," Kakarot said, as near to a requesting tone as he ever came. "I like that one."

"The one that did nothing to you?" Chi-Chi spat. Even now, the very idea that he'd brushed off her most powerful attack still stung. As a former student of Master Roshi, the idea that she'd failed to defeat someone with the Kamehameha was a source of great shame to her.

Kakarot smiled at her. "If you show me, maybe we can upgrade it. Together."

Chi-Chi glared at him, but when he kept waiting, she turned away from him again and squatted slightly, cupping her hands at her right side. She was picking out an imaginary spot on the wall to aim at when she felt Kakarot's chest against her back, and his right hand on her wrists. She tried to pull away, but he rested his chin on her left shoulder, and his left hand brushed against her waist.

"Show me," he said in her ear.

Wanting to get it over with, Chi-Chi began to gather the energy for the Kamehameha, but got a nasty shock when far more energy than she'd expected rushed into her hands, almost none of it hers. Her eyes snapped up to Kakarot, but he was smiling calmly. She wanted to hit him. His energy was too strong, too wild for her to manipulate. He'd probably blow her hands off at this rate. But he also wasn't going to let her stop. So she thrust her hands forward, and screamed as the burning energy erupted from her hands and scalded her palms. And Kakarot kept pouring more energy into the beam, refusing to let it fade out.

Finally, he stopped, and Chi-Chi collapsed into his arms. He lowered her slowly to the floor as she cried, moaning over her blistered hands. She probably wouldn't be able to use them for days, even with that weird accelerated healing goop they used. Why would he do this to her? Was the difference in their strength so important to him? Didn't he already feel superior enough?

Chi-Chi was so focused on her own pain that she didn't notice the smoking hole in the wall, which she certainly couldn't have managed on her own. Nor did she see the increasing awe in Kakarot's gaze as he looked from the hole to her.

"Beautiful," he breathed in her ear, and when Chi-Chi turned her head to him, his lips devoured hers, his big hand cupping the back of her head to prevent her from pulling away. But that was honestly the last thing on her mind at the moment. She now understood: Kakarot's watching her, his interest in how she fought. It wasn't because he thought she was weak. It was because he didn't understand how she fought. It was because he wanted to understand his wife.

For the longest time, Chi-Chi had thought of herself as a monster. She had believed no man would ever want her, and even if she found one that did, that her curse would be too much for him to accept, or it would consume him. But Kakarot wanted her, as a woman, as his wife. If he had noticed the red glow constantly around her, he hadn't commented on it yet. And as she was nowhere near strong enough to hurt him, did it really matter?

"I'll call you Tarachi," Kakarot said abruptly, grinning. "Because you're my angel."

It happened so gradually that Chi-Chi almost missed it. The red glow around her body began to dim. An hour later, it was a very dull red, and by the following morning, it was gone entirely. It could only have meant one thing: that her time serving the Earth was at an end. It meant she was free. Perhaps because her curse was no match for the monster who had freed her from it. And though she would deny it to almost anyone who accused her of it, that was the day that she first fell in love with Kakarot.

When Bulma first realized that she was pregnant, she'd been horrified. The thought of having Vegeta's baby, on Planet Vegeta of all places... there was nothing good about it that she could see.

And yet, she did nothing to terminate her pregnancy. Healthy fear of Vegeta, she told herself.

And yet, when she was shoved hard from behind five months into her pregnancy, landing squarely on her belly, the tears she shed had little to do with the physical pain she was in.

And yet, when Vegeta promised her that the one responsible for snuffing out the life of his heir would die, Bulma thought perhaps that there was some small part of him that she could learn to love, and kissed him for the first time without having to be prompted or forced.

It was a lesson that taught Bulma she did not truly understand just how much the other Saiya-jin resented a human birthing Vegeta's heir. And she learned from it. For the duration of her next two pregnancies, she either never left her room, or remained at either Vegeta's or Whis's side at all times. Sansai and Eschalot were born healthy with no "accidents" befalling them, but Bulma thought she had found the Saiya-jin who had pushed her: one who looked disturbingly similar to Kakarot, and had tried to use that to his advantage more than once. Bulma informed Vegeta, but the Saiya-jin in question was an elite, and even Vegeta could not kill him without proof of wrongdoing. That was what he said, anyway.

And yet, years later, when that same Saiya-jin passed Bulma in a corridor, and muttered some insult under his breath, it was not Vegeta who overheard him. It was not Vegeta who obliterated his head with a beam of blue energy. It was not Vegeta who vaporized the body on the spot, in front of no less than ten witnesses.

It was Kakarot, and when he was arrested and brought before Vegeta in chains, he told the truth: that he had deemed Turles a clear threat to the royal family, and as a royal guardsman, he could not allow Turles to live a second more. Kakarot never specified that Bulma was the member of the royal family that had been threatened, as many would have debated exactly how royal Bulma was. More importantly, Vegeta didn't ask Kakarot to name which member of the royal family he'd been protecting. The punishment: a month of guarding Bulma, which only those outside of their respective families would have viewed as a punishment in the first place.

There was little that Bulma could do for Kakarot in return, other than making sure his equipment was always in top shape. Simply thanking Kakarot would have been pointless: in his family, they took care of their own and always finished their missions. Protecting Vegeta's family just happened to be both. It didn't matter if Kakarot liked Bulma or not, he would have behaved the exact same way. And yet, Bulma wanted to believe that Tarachi had plenty to do with Kakarot being a good person... or as close to a good person as a Saiya-jin could get, anyway.

It first happened a few years after Eschalot was born: Bulma was staring into a mirror, not really thinking of anything, when she realized that she did not recognize the woman in the mirror.

The woman had blue skin and white hair, after all. And she was gone before Bulma could get a better look. But she had reminded Bulma firmly of Whis.

Over the next few days, the woman continued to appear in reflective surfaces: never for more than an instant, but with increasing frequency.

Bulma said nothing to Whis, in part because she really had no proof that anything had happened. Instead, she went to Tarachi... who had not only been seeing the blue woman for years by then, but had managed to tap into an energy source that she claimed only became available to her after the blue woman began to appear. And unlike Bulma, she had proof: Tarachi could gather this blue energy in her hand, where before her energy, like her former aura, had always been red. She had shown it to Kakarot, and confirmed that it was similar to, but far weaker than, Whis's energy. He also said that it was part of Whis's blessing, so that she should use it carefully.

All of that only told Bulma that she wasn't crazy. And, eventually, so did the blue woman, once she started staying long enough to converse with Bulma. That was worrying, as it hadn't happened to Tarachi, but the blue woman assured Bulma that it was to be expected, as their blessings were different.

Bulma only stopped worrying when the blue woman said her name was Vados. Talking to Whis's dead sister was sort of comforting, despite all the issues that came with it. But Vados was quick to point out an oversight on Bulma's part: no one had ever actually said that Vados was dead. Whis had only stated that she no longer visited him, and Bulma had made the mistaken assumption on her own. That being said, Vados did admit that, for all intents and purposes, she did not exist within that universe, which made no sense to Bulma. Even stranger, the "essence" of Vados did exist within that universe, and had been entrusted to Whis. He had then divided it, and passed it on to Bulma and Tarachi in two distinct forms. The purpose behind this was unclear (to Bulma, at least), but it was clear that Whis would not gift his sister's essence to just anyone. There was something special about Bulma and Tarachi, and it was more than them simply being the last two Earthlings.

"Mama, what was your Papa like?" Satsumi asked.

Tarachi looked up from the soup she was preparing. "I don't think you've ever asked about him before."

"I haven't," Satsumi agreed. "So?"

"I suppose many people thought he was scary," Tarachi said after some thought, "and he could be, when he was angry. But to me, he was so kind and loving."

"You never hated him?" Satsumi asked.

"I was a child, and he was my parent. I got upset with him from time to time, but hated him? Never."

Satsumi frowned. "I think... Eschalot hates Bulma. So I wondered, is that normal? But I've never hated you or Papa, even when I was really mad at you."

Tarachi sighed. "Their relationship is complicated. When I first met Bulma, I didn't much like her, either. But over time, we became... friends, I suppose. Or we understand each other better now. I never hated her. Eschalot, though... she has a lot of rage, and she can't exactly take it out on Bulma. Bulma couldn't survive that."

"So what should I do?" Satsumi asked.

"I don't know that it's your place to do anything. Not unless Bulma asks you to, and I don't think she would. I want to help her, but I don't know if it is pride or shame that keeps her from accepting my help. So for now, I suppose you can only do what you've always done: be there for them both, as much as you can. They have to both want to understand each other before anything can change. And Eschalot... I'm not sure she wants that at all."

Eschalot gritted her teeth as she raised her left arm to block the heavy punch that just missed her head, even as she twisted her body to avoid a kick aimed at her kidney.

Her opponents, a handful of Cell Juniors, giggled wickedly and renewed their attacks.

"Focus," said a voice behind her. "You have the power necessary, and you know how to access it."

The momentary distraction was enough: a Cell Junior tackled Eschalot to the floor, and the others immediately dog-piled her, punching and kicking every part of her that they could reach.

With a shriek of defiance, Eschalot burst from the pile, her body cloaked in the crimson aura of Super Saiya-jin God. But even as she landed, she saw that each of the Cell Juniors had done the same. That was the problem with fighting these smaller copies of Cell: they were trained to match their opponent's power, so the more Eschalot powered up, the more difficult the fight became. That was how it was supposed to work, anyway. But Eschalot had always thrived under greater pressure, and the more she powered up, the more manageable the fight became.

"Focus," said the voice again. "Your rage is a weapon, but you must use it. Do not let it use you."

The Cell Juniors each took a step back and squatted slightly, their hands cupped at their sides.

Recognizing the pose at once, Eschalot stopped moving and close her eyes, breathing deeply as her aura shifted from red to sparkling blue. She knew that if she did anything wrong now, this would end in disaster.

The Cell Juniors responded at once, their auras also shifting to blue. Then the first fired a Kamehameha, and the others followed suit, each launched exactly two seconds later so that Eschalot could not possibly deflect them all with a single attack.

Eschalot braced herself as the energy beams slammed into her. She heard the voice once more.

"Remember your lesson. Take in only what makes you stronger. Cast aside all that brings weakness."

That had never been an easy lesson to practice. Saiya-jin bodies were not designed to handle as wide a variety of energy as Cell's biology was. Even with the precise energy manipulation that Super Saiya-jin Blue made possible, it was extremely complicated. But Cell had often said that Eschalot was one of his best students, and she immediately proved it.

Eschalot threw out her arms, releasing an intense wave of energy that sliced through the Kamehamehas and split, each portion striking a Cell Junior directly in their eyes. One by one, the Kamehamehas faded as the Cell Juniors struggled against the pain of their wounded eyes.

"You used to be faster."

The criticism stung Eschalot, more because she knew it wasn't one, merely an observation. Which made it a fact.

"Something is troubling you," Cell said softly as he approached. "I will not ask what. That is not what we do here. But it is clearly impacting the way you fight. That is bad."

Eschalot frowned. "Sensei, I... have been selected."

"For a Divine Test. Yes, I have been made aware of this. You are concerned about your chances of success?"

"It's just, I know they're extremely difficult for anyone. Sansai failed his, and lost the ability to transform into Super Saiya-jin Red as a result."

Cell snorted. "Are you actually suggesting that meathead is a better student than you?"

Eschalot smirked. "No." Her older brother was stronger than her, no question. But smarter, or more skilled? No one in their right mind would ever even imply such a thing. Not unless it was Sansai himself asking.

"Then what is the problem?"

Eschalot scowled. "My mother. She is... worried."

"She told you this?"

"She didn't have to. Normally, she does a much better job of concealing such feelings from me. But she actually came to me, warned me to be careful. As if I need-"

"And you have let your feelings for her cloud your mind."

"No, I was-"

Cell cleared his throat. "It wasn't a question, Eschalot."

She fell silent and lowered her head.

"When you first began training under me, I showed you how to use the rage that your mother inspires in you. You have learned to harness it, and become stronger because of it. You have done that, because you managed to distance yourself from her, physically and emotionally. If your fighting style is suffering due to her now, there are only two possibilities. Either she has managed to get closer, or you are starting to regret that she has not. Determine which has happened, and then address the issue. Preferably before your Divine Test, if you expect to do well on it."

"I know the participants are not allowed to know any details of the Divine Test beforehand-"

"Exactly. I will tell you nothing. Save that as you are, you will not pass." Cell paused. "You are a gifted student, Eschalot. It would be a great shame if you failed now. Not just to you as a warrior, or to your family, but to myself as your teacher. You have incredible potential. I urge you to address this issue right away. Once the Divine Test begins, it will be too late. Whis selected you because he considers you worthy. Don't dissapoint us, or yourself."

"The preparations are now complete," Whis announced. "We can move forward at any time."

"And you have no doubts?" asked the voice originating from his staff.

"Some, but I have had a great deal of time to think about this. I am sure that Vados would have wanted this."

"I was actually referring to what your lord would think."

Whis shook his head. "What happened was unfortunate. We had no way of knowing. But when he is awake, Beerus-sama has made it very clear that I am to act as I see fit, until such time that he can resume his duties. If that day should come, I will step aside. But for now, we will proceed with the plan."

"I see. Then I will patiently await news of your success. We are ready to act on our side, as well."

"Excellent. Then I will proceed with Eschalot's Divine Test."

"Let us hope that she has a better head on her shoulders than Sansai did."

Whis grimaced. "Yes, that was... most regrettable. I had hoped that Vegeta's bloodline would allow the young prince to overcome his attitude, but he clearly has a bit too much of his grandfather's pride in him. And when that pride was bruised in such a severe fashion, he simply never recovered. But Eschalot has already realized that the best teachers will not always be those that are stronger than her. I believe she will succeed where her brother could not."

"I hope your belief in this girl is not misplaced. At times, I worry about the nature of your attachment to your universe. Of course, you are meant to be invested in its future and success. But you must also view it with a certain level of detachment. You are, after all, only acting Hakaishin of your universe until Beerus can fully resume his duties."

"I assure you that I have not forgotten," Whis replied. "Just because I delegate much of my work to the Saiya-jin, does not mean I have lost sight of my duties of office."

"I hope that is true, my son. A great deal depends on your success in this venture. Another failure... would not be viewed favorably. And I do not refer to myself."

Whis nodded slowly. "I understand." He put his staff aside, and then turned to study the sleeping figure next to him. "I hope you are having far more success on your end, Beerus-sama. Time is running out for all of us."

The boy did not remember anything of his life, before he had been brought to the place.

He only knew what came now.

Every day, before the sun rose, the god would come to him. There were no words, and no need for them.

They would fight.

And the boy, who had always thought that any mortal who dared to strike a god would simply cease to exist, was amazed. Because not only did he not cease to exist, his blood would gurgle and flame and sing whenever the god struck him. And there could be no doubt, from the look on the god's face: they both enjoyed their battles. Nothing else could explain why the fights lasted for as long as they did.

When the sun sank from view, the boy would rest and eat. The god would leave, until the next morning.

It should have gotten old fast.

It never did.

Every day, the boy saw something new in the god's technique. Something that had either always been there that he had failed to notice, or something that the god added just to spice things up. So the boy learned, and grew, and flourished.

But he remained a boy. And if he had ever been taught the importance of the passage of time, it was a memory that simply hadn't stuck well. And it didn't matter.

The boy was getting stronger. The god was not. The gap between them, once wide and vast, was growing shorter by the blow. The boy knew, believed in his heart, that one day, he would win. Then he would win again. And then, some day, he would strike down the god. For no other reason than they both expected it of him. And on that day, something would happen. The boy had no idea what. But he knew that he desired it, greatly.

There was no point in asking the god, who only showed interest in fighting. Questions were ignored, or briefly served to amuse, but were never answered.

The boy's only real clue were his dreams: in them, he was holding a bloody bone in his hands, and feeling... not happy, but at peace. All was right in that moment following the murder.

The computers around them began to hum loudly as Mame went through the pre-flight checklist, but Eschalot was too preoccupied with her own thoughts, which only served to deepen the scowl on her face.

Fury. It threatened to blanket Eschalot's mind and spoil her chances of passing the Divine Test before it even began.

According to Mame, Bulma had tried to visit Eschalot's quarters mere hours before the scheduled departure. That was highly irregular for two reasons. First, it was tradition that anyone attempting the Divine Test was to enter deep meditation for the final hours leading up to it. Interruptions were forbidden, and even the king himself followed that rule. Second, Bulma didn't visit Eschalot. She was never allowed to. Eschalot's quarters were constantly guarded whether she was inside or not, and none of the guards would give Bulma access unless Eschalot said otherwise... and she never had. Instead, Eschalot went to Bulma as needed, and even that was becoming a rarity.

Bulma had to know that attempting to visit would not be allowed or encouraged. So, in theory, whatever she had to say was extremely important. At least, in her view. But then, Bulma and Eschalot agreed on so very little, so Eschalot could not accept that Bulma would have anything vital to say at such an important time. Bulma, despite all her faults, still possessed a sharp enough eye and mind, would have come to such an important realization sooner, and told Eschalot well in advance. She didn't do things last minute unless prevented by extraordinary circumstances. And being stalled by persistent guards was not one of them. There were numerous ways for Bulma to contact Eschalot without having to deal with Saiya-jin. Even Cell, as beneath him as it was, would have passed on a message if it were so important.

So that Bulma would handle the matter in such a thoughtless way... it only brought shame to Eschalot, at a time when she could not afford such distractions. She did not care what Bulma had wanted to tell her. She only cared that Bulma was still causing trouble for her. And Eschalot would not fail as Sansai had. Even now, he was much the same as he had always been, but she could see the doubt behind his eyes. His confidence had been shaken, and he would never quite be the same again. He, at least, was not quite as thoughtless as he had been before. But even on his best days, his intelligence was nowhere near Bulma's on her worst days. But he was always excused, because he was a prince. Which only made Bulma's lapses in judgment worse, because they were both not excused, and should have occurred far less frequently in her.

Eschalot shook her head slightly as Mame turned to her in silence, awaiting permission to launch. She hesitated, started to give it, and instead decided to take over the launch herself. It would give her something constructive to focus on, and keep her from thinking of Bulma.

Except that it had been Bulma who had contributed much of the time machine's design. And she had been the first person to show Eschalot the inside of one. So the very act of being in one, or touching its controls, reminded Eschalot greatly of her mother. And yet, she hadn't been angry at her mother at either of those times. No, she'd been awed, in fact, that her mother knew so much. So the memories that the time machine summoned were at least preferable to more recent ones. But that still left Eschalot unable to do what she'd been trying to do for a while now: stop thinking about her mother.

And so Eschalot set out for her Divine Test, just as her brother had: with a notable handicap. In his case, it had been his overwhelming pride. In Eschalot's, it was her inability to come to terms with the constantly shifting emotions concerning her mother.

The vague nature of the Divine Test was not helping matters, either. Eschalot had been given pre-set coordinates and little else. More instructions would be unlocked as she progressed through the test, so she had no real way to prepare herself. But Eschalot was confident that she would succeed. She was better than Sansai. She would not share in his shame.

In a last effort to distract herself, Eschalot accessed the onboard learning module. The time machine had a panel devoted solely to displaying information for the Divine Test, but it was also equipped with a teaching program, not all that different from the version that was standard in the Attack Balls used to transport Saiya-jin babies between planets. As a princess, Eschalot had learned first at the feet of her father, but Satsumi and her sisters had received their first lessons from such a program. Yet with a mother like Bulma, Eschalot was no stranger to technology, and even Vegeta had encouraged his daughter to be master of the tools that might save her life one day. And Eschalot did draw comfort from being self-sufficient, because there were still plenty of Saiya-jin who would attempt to disregard her solely because she was a young woman.

Soon, the voice of her late grandfather drifted from the speakers, and Eschalot closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair, submersing herself in the legends of her people.

"This is the story that my grandfather passed down to me, as it was given to him by his grandfather. In a time long before the empire rose, there was a peculiar Saiya-jin. Like any other, he fought and bled and grew. But unlike the others, he could not be defeated. The land trembled in fear as he walked upon it. The clouds parted before him, afraid to block his view. The rain dared not to fall upon him, as it could be taken as a challenge. This Saiya-jin, mightier than them all, raised his gaze to the heavens, and declared war upon the gods. Not for revenge or greed, but for pure sport. One by one, the gods came at him, and one by one, they fell to his power. When there were no others to challenge, he laughed, for he had become the strongest. And then he despaired, for he would never truly enjoy the thrill of battle again. In his misery, he vanished, never to be seen again. But his legend lives on, passed on solely within the royal family. His name remains unknown, and he was called ony 'The Single': The Single Greatest Saiya-jin. The Single Greatest God. The Single Greatest Power."

Since the Divine Test, everything had looked different to him. Oh, he acted much the same, or tried to. But there were times when even the air itself just felt... wrong to him, and the knowledge that there was nothing he could do about it? It left him with many sleepless nights.

Before, it had all been so simple. He was the firstborn, Eschalot was the favorite. He hadn't minded, because where their father doted on her, he expected greater things of his son. And those things had been delivered.

Until the Divine Test.

He'd never actually had to tell his father what had happened. He still wasn't sure how to put it into words, so that was a good thing. But seeing the disappointment, and worse, concern in his father's eyes, that would have stolen the words from his throat either way.

Since then, strangely enough, there had been only two things that gave him comfort.

The first was a simple memory he hadn't had a use for in what seemed like ages: sitting in his mother's lap, enjoying the sensation of her long fingers gently threading through his hair. That was back before he'd been made to understand what he was, what she was, and how they were so very different. Back when her affections hadn't been linked to shame. Back when her full attention had made him feel like the most important person in the world.

The second was standing outside of his mother's chambers, wearing a mulish expression and seeming about as intimidating as something he had already stepped on by accident. But to her credit, she shifted her stance as he approached and squared her shoulders, as if she expected an attack.

"Hey, shrimp," he greeted. "Where are your big sisters? I want someone competent guarding my mother."

The insult lit a fire in her eyes at once. "Shut up, you meathead! Auntie Bulma is plenty safe with me here!"

The door behind her opened at once, and Tarachi's head emerged. "Momoko, keep it down out here! I can hear you shouting from-" She trailed off upon spotting him. "Oh. Sansai-sama, was she bothering you again? I'm sorry."

He barely resisted the urge to wince. Tarachi had always been careful to never refer to him informally, even in front of her children. Even though it really wouldn't have bothered him, if she had. Though, he had never been able to decide why, exactly.

"I wasn't bothering him, Mama!" Momoko protested. "He's the one who came up to me and-!"

Tarachi lightly tapped her knuckles on the forehead of her loudest child. Sansai watched with amusement as Momoko instantly fell silent, however unwillingly. He'd seen Tarachi do that to each of her girls many times, always with the same result. He had no idea how she'd trained them that way, because he'd seen no evidence that she could defeat even one of them, if it ever came down to that.

"She's right, though," Sansai admitted. "I was teasing her." He nodded to the girl. "Sorry, Momoko."

Momoko glared at him, but wilted slightly under her mother's firm gaze. "Thank you," she murmured.

"You must be here to see your mother," Tarachi guessed. "She's resting, or trying to," and here she shot a look at Momoko. "But I'm sure she'd be happy that you came to visit. Please, come in, Sansai-sama."

Sansai couldn't resist reaching down to ruffle Momoko's hair as he passed her. She allowed it briefly, but jerked her head away before he could let go on his own. She was one of the few constants in his life, both before and after he'd failed. She hadn't treated him any differently at all. And he appreciated that, more than he would ever be willing to say.

Bulma's chambers were neatly arranged and virtually spotless, all the proof Sansai needed that she hadn't been using them recently. When truly in her element, she'd be half-covered in grease, and one could not walk in a straight line through her workspace without upsetting at least a stray document. Even if Tarachi had been busy cleaning, and Sansai was sure that she had, his mother had not been using her chambers, certainly not for living.

And the reason for that became all too clear, as Tarachi showed him into the bedroom.

There, too, Tarachi had been cleaning, and the smell of incense was heavy in the air. It bothered Sansai's more sensitive nose, but it had no impact on the bed's occupant that he could see.

"How long has she been like this?" Sansai asked.

"It's hard to say. Satsumi was the last to speak to her, and the only thing Bulma told her was to let no one outside of my family in."

Sansai blinked.

Tarachi seemed to realize then what she'd said to him. "I'm sorry, Sansai-sama. I assume she thought you wouldn't visit. And with Eschalot away-"

"You don't need to explain. We don't visit her, and she wouldn't have expected us to, now. And she wouldn't trust anyone else but you guys and Whis." Sansai hesitated. "Even now, it's not why I'm actually here. I wanted to ask you something."

Tarachi frowned. "Forgive me, Sansai-sama, but can't it wait?"

"You don't actually need to worry." When she didn't seem convinced, he added, "I have seen this before. It's not sleep, or sickness." He leaned down and gently pressing his forehead to his mother's. "She's in a deep, meditative trance. It is... a little unusual for someone like her to enter one, but I have no doubt that she researched it thoroughly first. You know how she is."

"And you aren't worried? Even though you have no idea why she would do this?"

Sansai straightened up and turned to Tarachi. "Our only two options are to forcibly bring her out, or let her return on her own. And if we do it, it'll interrupt whatever she's attempting. I don't think she would want that. Whatever she's seeking, I'm sure it involves gaining clarity. Do you really want to prevent that? I don't think so, since you haven't disturbed her, either."

Tarachi grimaced. "That's different. She wouldn't expect me to go against her wishes. But you-"

"She would never expect me to obey her, so why would do it I now?" Sansai laughed bitterly. "I wonder myself. But since neither of us is going to disturb her, I assume you have some free time. I don't think you can drown us in incense any further."

"It's supposed to promote-" Tarachi began, then shook her head. "What is your question?"

He gazed at her with a surprising amount of intensity. "What did it feel like, to learn that you were not the most powerful fighter in existence? How did you accept that truth?"

Tarachi stared at him. "Is this a joke?"

"No," Sansai said firmly, grasping her arms. "I need to know, Tarachi."

"There wasn't much choice but to accept it, instantly. Kakarot was... nothing I did hurt him. Nothing. I can't be sure, but he was probably eight, maybe even nine or ten times stronger than me then. Once I exhausted myself, he just knocked me out. I had never felt so powerless before."

"How did you get past it?"

Tarachi blinked. "I stopped seeing him as the monster who kidnapped me. I fell in love with the man who wanted me for his wife. I don't know what else to tell you."

Sansai released her. "I suppose that makes sense, for you. But it won't help me."

"What are you talking about? What does this have to do with anything?"

He shook his head. "I should go. Please continue to watch over my mother."

"Do you have somewhere else to be?" Tarachi asked at once.

He paused. "What?"

Tarachi tried again. "Stay with your mother, Sansai-sama. Even if she can't sense your presence, even if she never knows that you stayed with her... you will know. Just as you will know, if you don't stay, and you prove her expectations of her children right."

Sansai glanced at his mother's face, which was strangely peaceful. "She... may not want me here."

Tarachi smiled. "Then I cannot think of a better time for you to be here, when she cannot complain about it. I'll see what I can do about the incense."

End of Interlude.

Endnotes:

Originally, I was going to do an unrelated story where Chi-Chi became the Demon Maiden. I have always felt that Ox-King's size hinted at a less than fully human heritage, but officially he is all human. This does not change the fact that you only see multiple people his size at World Martial Arts Tournaments, where freaks are known to gather. Or that the world of Dragon Ball includes dog kings and dog policeman that no one bats an eye over. And on that subject, I am assuming that Baby Gamera is not a standard turtle, and is at least a monster, if not a demon.

Some assume Goku would be a vicious brute if not for that head injury as a kid. And maybe he would. Or, assuming his race had survived, maybe his really nice mom, or not quite as much a jerk as he first seemed father, would have fixed that, through methods as unconventional as they were. So no matter what, Kakarot was going to be weird for a Saiya-jin. But I just don't see the point in telling us his parents were so different, if the implication wasn't going to be that he would have been, as well, head injury or not.

Consider Vados to be inactive. As in what supposedly happens to angels when their paired Hakaishin or universe becomes inactive. Which, in my mind, is that they simply return to an angel homeworld and have no further influence on any universe, unless they are reassigned. And you should probably be wondering what happened to Champa, if you haven't already guessed it. I decided to go ahead and include elements of the Broly movie in a roundabout way.

Momoko: peach child