Disclaimer: DB/Z/GT don't belong to me. And suing me wouldn't be worth it, because my grandfather is an excellent lawyer and you wouldn't last ten minutes in court. So nyah! :oP

Author's Note: I was looking over my inventory of stories, and decided I wanted to write another one about Kuririn and #18. I read through my repertoire, and discovered that while I had covered Kuririn and #18's relationship before they began dating, and before #18's pregnancy, I hadn't written anything to show how #18 would react to Kuririn's marriage proposal. So, here it is! Warm and fuzzy feelings for everyone . . . ha, ha. This was fairly short, as far as my stories go, but I only write 'em as long as they want to be. (And this one took around six hours, too! Whoa!) ^^ Enjoy.


Scarred
By Leia


I’m not human. I was once, but I’m not anymore. I should stop trying to fool myself.

#18 sighed, and she brushed an errant strand of silken blonde hair out of her eyes. It was a beautiful day, the weather warm enough to be comfortable but not so hot as to be stifling, and the ocean breeze blew the faint smell of salt and freshness through the air. #18 didn’t notice, though, because all her attentions were directed inward, to her swirling, confused thoughts.

I don’t know what I was thinking by allowing myself to care for Kuririn. It’s like I was trying to make myself believe that I’m something I’m not . . . that I’m a normal, human woman. #18 snorted derisively, and without thinking she raised a hand to the back of her head, tracing the scar that ran around her skull, hidden by her hair. Not even Kuririn knew it was there.

Kuririn. The small, trusting human, who had taken #18 in and allowed her to stay at his house, no strings attached, who had used a dragon’s wish to try to make her life happier. Who loved her for years, #18 now knew, but had waited until #18 was sure of her feelings before he declared his. Gradually, #18 had allowed Kuririn to enter her heart, and now, a year later, she knew she loved him. And unfortunately, he knew it, too.

It was only a matter of time before the situation would die. #18 was aware that Kuririn had been toying with the idea of asking her to marry him for about a month now, and while #18 loved Kuririn dearly, she could not marry him. There were things about her that she didn’t even want Kuririn to know -- because she knew how he would react. He was different than the others, but he was human, and some things were too strange for humans to accept.

#18 heard the soft, scuffing footfalls in the sand, and she knew Kuririn would come sit beside her before he did. AHey, beautiful,” Kuririn greeted her, settling down beside her and taking her hand in his, entwining their fingers.

“Hey yourself,” #18 forced a smile, hoping it looked genuine. When Kuririn asked the inevitable question, she would have to hurt him . . . it was the only way. A year ago it would not have been difficult, but now Kuririn’s happiness meant so much to #18 that it pained her to think of dashing it down.

She looked over at him, and saw that Kuririn was fingering something in his pocket, and right away she figured out what it was. Oh no! she thought desperately. It’s too soon! #18 had thought Kuririn would wait at least another month before asking her, and she hadn’t devised any ways to turn him down. She didn’t want it to end yet!

“Kuririn?”

Kuririn turned to her, and his brilliant, questioning smile made something in #18’s stomach lurch. She fought off the emotions that sought to cloud her judgement, and she wracked her brains for something to say. She had to insult him, to hurt him, to step on his heart so he would leave without looking back. It would tear #18’s heart out to do it, but it had to be done.

“Kuririn, I . . .” #18 opened her mouth to say something blistering and devastatingly unkind, but she found herself leaning close to him and kissing him. Shock rammed into her like a steamroller, but for some unknown reason, she didn’t stop.

When the kiss was over, Kuririn’s eyes were wide with surprise, and #18 was ready to slap herself for letting her emotions take over. She couldn’t turn around and insult him now! Kuririn must have sensed #18’s unease, because he moved closer to her and placed a hand on her knee. “Hey, are you all right?”

“Just . . .” #18 relinquished the battle with her feelings and said quietly, “Hold me. Just for a minute.”

“Wha- . . .”Kuririn was obviously stunned beyond belief, because #18 had never flat-out given him permission to touch her before.

“You might as well. It’s the only time I’m ever going to ask you,” #18’s voice was tight and almost snappish as she tried to control her emotions. She knew what Kuririn would ask in a few minutes, but she wanted to enjoy being near him, one last time.

Hesitantly, with the reverence of an archaeologist entering a sacred shrine, Kuririn slipped his arms around her and held her close, letting her rest her head on his shoulder. #18 could feel his heart beating inside his chest, and as the warmth of his body slowly filled her, some of her anxiety disappeared. As they sat in silence, #18 forgot all about her intentions and closed her eyes, almost falling asleep.

“Uh, can I ask you something?”

#18’s head jerked up as she was jolted out of her half-sleep by Kuririn’s voice. “I suppose so.”

Kuririn withdrew one of his arms and reached into his pocket, where he pulled out a small, velvet box. He played with it, rubbing the soft material with his fingers, apparently unaware of #18’s fearful expression. “Listen, uh, #18, I love you more than anything else in the world. You mean more to me than . . . well, than everything,” he blew out his breath in frustration and scratched his head, frowning. “I’ve never been very romantic, at least, not with words, so I’m just gonna’ have to say it or I’ll never get it out.”

He took a deep breath, and #18 wanted to fly away before he could speak, but she didn’t. “#18, you’re beautiful and wonderful and way stronger than I am, and I bet you could get any guy you went for . . .”

“I ‘went for’ you, though, didn’t I?” #18 couldn’t repress the smile that crept across her face. She kicked herself inwardly for leading him on, however, as Kuririn’s face lit up like a little boy’s. Why was it that whenever she tried to say something, it came out completely the opposite?

“Yeah, you did, and that’s what confuses me,” Kuririn chuckled, then decisiveness spasmed over his face and he looked up at her. “I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Not just like we are now, but . . . completely together. I want you to know that you’ll always have me, no matter what happens. #18, will you marry me?”

Silence. The only sound was of the waves lapping the shore, and the wind rustling the leaves of the trees. Kuririn didn’t push her, and #18 struggled with the hordes of emotions and wants that threatened to swamp her. At last, #18 spoke, her voice low and full of regret. “I . . . can’t.”

She didn’t look up at him, because she knew what she would see. Kuririn would be staring at her, confusion and hurt flitting across his face, but he wouldn’t ask why. He never questioned her about anything, never asked her to explain herself. It was one of those qualities that was completely endearing, yet at the moment was utterly infuriating. If Kuririn had yelled, if he had burst forth with accusations or demanded to know why, then it would not be so difficult to refuse. But since he didn’t, since he just sat there, waiting, it made things a million times harder.

“I’m sorry, Kuririn,” she whispered.

#18 could tell by the way that Kuririn rubbed a comforting hand up and down her arm that he had no idea what to say. After a time, he murmured, “That’s a no, then.”

“I don’t know . . .” this was not turning out the way it was supposed to. “I love you, but I’m afraid, Kuririn.”

“Of marriage?” Kuririn sounded surprised, but the relief was thick in his voice, having discovered that it was not lack of feeling on #18’s part.

“No!” #18 shook her head. “It’s not the marriage that bothers me. It’s . . . it’s what happens after . . .” again she broke off and ran her fingers through the sand, and she could feel the blood rising to her cheeks in an embarrassed blush.

A short pause ensued, then Kuririn sucked in his breath in understanding. “O-o-o-h-h,” he drew out the word slowly, and his fingers tightened over hers. “#18, if that’s what’s bothering you, we don’t ever have to go that far. If that part of marriage would make you uncomfortable, then forget I asked. I just want to make you happy.”

“You don’t understand!” #18 exploded, and Kuririn jumped. “I want to! I want to marry you, and I like being with you. I don’t want you to treat me like some porcelain doll to spare my feelings. I know you, Kuririn, and I know you’d sacrifice everything to make sure I was happy, but that’s still a sacrifice you’re making, and that’s not fair. I want you to marry someone who can give you everything in a marriage, not somebody who is too embarrassed and frightened to be close to you.”

“Do you really think I’d marry someone else just because you don’t want to move to the next step right now?” Kuririn sounded almost insulted. “Come on, #18, you know me better than that. Besides, would you honestly want me to get married to somebody else?”

“No,” #18 admitted, and she laughed hoarsely. “I’d probably kill her.”

Kuririn laughed, too, and he hugged her. “See? #18, listen to me. If you want to move slowly, that’s fine with me. I didn’t ask you to marry me just so I could sleep with you -- though it did cross my mind once or twice,” he added jokingly, poking #18 in the side teasingly.

#18 let out a yell of frustration and jumped to her feet, yanking Kuririn up by the arm. “Do you want to know why I’m so nervous?” she asked forcefully, though her brain was screaming at her to stop. She didn’t want Kuririn to know, but in a way, she owed it to him to tell him.

Kuririn swallowed hard, suddenly appearing quite apprehensive, and he nodded. “If you want to tell me, then okay. But . . . if it has anything to do with you being jinzouningen, you don’t have to worry.”

#18 stopped short, for once again Kuririn had proved that he knew her far better than she gave him credit for. “How . . .”

“You’re always worried about it,” Kuririn smiled, and he reached up to touch her cheek. “You seem to think that I would love you any less because of something somebody did to you years ago. I’m willing to forget about it, and I think you’d have a lot less grief in your life if you did, too.”

“I can’t,” #18 snapped, “Not this time. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Here,” she took Kuririn’s hand, and before he realized what she was doing, #18 placed his hand on her stomach, beneath her shirt. “Do you feel that?”

“Feel what?” Kuririn’s eyes were darting about frantically, like he was looking for a place to hide. “I’m sorry.”

#18 growled a little, and she closed her eyes, gathering her courage. Lifting the bottom of her shirt just enough to reveal her stomach, #18 pointed to the long, dark scar that ran across it. “That,” she stabbed a finger at it. “And there are more. There’s one on my skull, one across my shoulder blades, one down my spine, one across my chest over my heart, and a long one running down the front of my torso. I’m covered with scars, Kuririn. Gero left them after his ‘alterations’. I didn’t want you to see them, but if we got married,” she sighed in frustration. “Eventually there’d be no way for me to hide them anymore.”

“Is that all?” Kuririn removed his hand, and in his eyes #18 saw profound relief, but also a deep caring. “Everyone has scars from something or other. Yours aren’t any different.”

“They’re not just scars, they’re like access panels,” #18 explained, her voice tight with suppressed pain and memories. As she spoke, disjointed images of Dr. Gero and his various surgeries swam up in her mind, and she fixed her gaze on Kuririn’s face to keep herself focussed. “He had a remote he used to open them up, if he needed to get to the mechanisms inside my body, and all he had to do was push a certain button and the scars would open again. It was so he could fix me, if something went wrong.

“You pretend I’m normal,” #18 continued brokenly, and she looked away from Kuririn, at the clouds, floating across the sky. If only life were as simple as the clouds made it look . . . “You pretend I’m just another human, and you know what? After a while, you made me believe you. But it’s not true. These stupid scars are proof of that. If I married you, if we . . . if we moved to the next step, these scars would always be there. There’s no way to get rid of them.”

Kuririn started to say something, but #18 shook her head, not allowing him to speak. She didn’t want to hear Kuririn’s reassurances, because they made her doubts doubly painful. “They’re not going to go away, and they’re never going to heal,” #18 could feel tears gathering in her eyes, as what she wanted and what she knew she had to do fought for dominance inside her. It was a horrible feeling, wanting to love Kuririn so badly, but all the while knowing she couldn’t.

“Each time, they would be there to remind you -- and me -- that you were making love to a machine,” #18 whispered, unable to speak loudly. Her confession was too exhausting, too emotionally draining. “I don’t want to put you through that. You’d pretend nothing was different, but it would always be there, in the back of my mind. That’s why I’m afraid.”

She sank heavily down to the sand, her face buried in her hands, and her shoulders shook as #18 wrestled with her emotions. “I’m sorry, Kuririn. I . . . maybe it would be better if I just left. I never should have agreed to live with you; I should have left straight away,” she glanced over at him, a pained look working through her misery for a second. “But you were just so trusting, and so wonderful . . . you messed everything up. I wasn’t supposed to love you. I’m jinzouningen, you’re human. We aren’t supposed to care for each other!”

“But we do,” Kuririn argued softly, sitting down beside her again. #18 snorted, closing her eyes and turning her head away from him. Kuririn fell silent and #18 resisted the urge to cry, because she knew what was going through Kuririn’s mind. All that was left was how he would break the news to her that he wanted her to leave.

Suddenly, Kuririn took one of her hands, and #18 felt him slip something onto her finger.

With a gasp, #18 sat bolt upright, staring at the gold and diamond band that glittered on the ring finger of her left hand. She looked at him, eyes wide, shock filling every part of her body. “Kuririn . . . after all that, after all I told you, you still want to marry me? Are you crazy?”

“Maybe,” Kuririn agreed with a wry smile. “But whether I’m crazy or not, I still love you. Marriage is a joining of two people, in body and soul, and it means loving all of each other. I love you -- not just because you’re beautiful and intelligent, or ‘cause you can kick my butt in a fight; because you understand me, and because . . . well, I just do. Loving you means loving you, and that includes your good points, and your faults (though I haven’t found any) . . . and it also includes the part of you that Gero added.”

#18 could only stare at him as Kuririn continued, smiling gently. “I love all of you, not just your human half. Maybe I’m not the crazy one. I think you’re crazy, if you think that a bunch of scars could change the way I feel about you. They’re symbols of the past, nothing more.”

“But they aren’t ‘symbols of the past’! The machinery in me isn’t something that can be forgotten, it’s still there. I can’t change what Gero has done to me,” #18 protested, but Kuririn’s expression, soft and affectionate, made her stop. He cupped her face in his hands insistently, as though to prove a point.

“Listen to me, and I mean really listen,” Kuririn searched her face with his eyes, and #18 found herself holding her breath, wondering what he would say. “What Gero made you into is not who you are. The fact that you are capable of loving is undeniable proof. You’ve already overridden whatever programming Gero installed in you, so don’t let him come back to control you now. You’re free of him.”

#18 looked at the ring on her finger, then up at Kuririn, then slowly, a tiny smile wormed its way onto her face. “Thank you,” she told him, leaning her cheek against his palm.

Kuririn smiled, then gently pulled her to him and kissed her. #18 could sense the question in his kiss, and sure enough, Kuririn let her go a few seconds later, hastily-suppressed hope dancing in his eyes. #18 touched his face lightly, then said, “Ask me again.”

Kuririn swallowed, and #18 saw the nervousness in his eyes as he softly caressed her cheek with his thumb. “Will you marry me?”

In reply, #18 slid her arms around Kuririn’s neck and drew him in for the most meaningful kiss she had ever experienced, filled with passion, thanks, and the salt from her tears. After what seemed like forever, #18 pulled back, feeling her cheeks burn. Kuririn, likewise, was flushed.

“That’s a yes, then,” Kuririn grinned playfully, laughing as #18 rolled her eyes.

“Of course it is,” #18 gave him a shove, knocking him over, then helped him sit back up and brushed the sand from his hair.

Kuririn’s arm came up around her waist, drawing her close, but #18 didn’t object. She was far too happy to worry about keeping up appearances, and she rested her head against his. “You’re the most wonderful woman in the universe,” Kuririn declared proudly, giving her a squeeze. “I promise I’ll never let you down.”

“I believe you. And I’m not about to betray you, either,” #18 smiled, feeling warmth flood her like an actual, physical force. “You ought to get a prize or something, for putting up with me and all my doubts.”

“I already have one,” Kuririn pointed out mischievously, “And she’s sitting beside me.”

“You are presumptuous and silly,” #18 informed him, but then she laughed and kissed him again.


******


You like? I did. I always wondered if Gero's modifications had left any marks on #18 (and #17, too, but he's not in this one), and if so, what effect that would have on #18 and Kuririn's relationship. #18 is insecure about herself as is, and I thought that having physical signs of her 'inhumanity', like scars, would make it twice as bad. Do any of you agree? I'd like to know whether or not I'm completely off-base here. (Answer Her!)