Chapter Five

Trunks, having come so far to speak to the Jinzouningen, said nothing at first. 'No, I don't' seemed too obvious and it was probably a trick question, anyhow. It occurred to Trunks that strictly speaking, it hadn't been a question; thus, it did not require an answer. Loophole found, Trunks waited for Juunana to speak again. For upwards of a minute the android merely looked at him--gods alone knew what he was looking for--and after a point Trunks was forced to speak.

"What makes you think I want to die?"

"Well, let's see," Juunana mused. "Twenty years under my supervision. Our supervision," he amended hastily, "and I didn't kill you, never hurt you badly enough that you couldn't recover, never told you that I hated you. I'm not even telling you now, though gods know you've earned it." He paused and looked Trunks in the eye. "Vicious tendencies aside, it's difficult to truly get on my bad side, but you're doing a beautiful job of it. Twenty years, Toronkusu, and you're still alive and well; and then lo and behold, you pop up out of nowhere and blast my sister to bits. You liked it, too, didn't you?" He began to pace as he spoke. "Weren't even content to just kill me, you had to insult me first; is that one of those Saiyajin instincts you insisted would save you?"

"You're a fine one to complain about being toyed with, Jinzouningen."

"Ah, but you aren't the type for it, you see? It was quite unlike you. Naturally, when I got here, I had to wonder why; especially, Toronkusu, when you failed to kill me these last few times. You're too logical not to have a reason."

"I see," Trunks said flatly. "And I suppose you've got me all figured out?"

"Nope. That's the fun part. I don't want to have you all figured out; you'd be hopelessly boring, and then I'd have to die again."

Trunks blinked; somewhere the line of logic had taken an abrupt jump to some plane he'd yet to explore. "What do you mean, you'd have to die again?"

"Well, what do you think I mean?" Juunana countered with a mildly condescending look. "Think, boy; at least at one point in your life, I know that you could."

"Don't play games with me, Juunana, if you brought me here just to start a fight--"

"Brought you here? Well, you certainly have a high opinion of yourself. As if I'd go to the trouble, kid; I told you to stay home. Thus, you must've come of your own volition, which brings me back to my original point. You came here because you wanted to die, which I find a bit odd, if unsurprising."

Trunks snorted. "I don't want to die."

"Let me get this straight..." Juunana murmured coolly, pacing a bit faster. "I treat you nicely for twenty years--I even kept your mom alive, kid, so don't give me shit about 'quality of life'--and in return you kill my sister, beat me to the ground and blow me up. And now, you follow me, against my instructions, knowing full well that you're too weak to defend yourself..." Trunks blinked, and when he opened his eyes they were all of six inches from Juunana's, wide and furious. "Boy," the android growled, "if you didn't come here to die I don't know why you came."

Trunks froze where he stood, immediately in full battle-mode and now, oh, now everything came back to him: the reasons he shouldn't have come, the fact that he could die, the fact that the world would probably die with him if he allowed this to happen. He didn't panic--he'd tried that strategy (if it could be so called) before to no success. Moving not a muscle, he watched Juunanagou and waited for the other to make the first move.

Said first move was to shove Trunks away with an expression of wavering disgust, face tight.

"No excuses?" he sneered. "No apologies?"

"Perhaps if I thought for a moment that you'd apologize for even a fraction of what you've done..."

"I think you know the answer to that," Juunana snorted. "I suppose I shouldn't expect you to understand why I do what I do just because you've seen my side of things. How's it like to be the winner for a change, hmm? Don't lie to me; I saw the look in your eyes when you attacked Juuhachi." The cyborg's own eyes drew to slits. "I saw the way you were feeling when you finished me. Why the special treatment, kid? You hated me more?"

"Maybe I thought you needed a taste of what you gave other people," Trunks muttered. "You who never thought of another human being as anything but a toy."

"That's still getting to you? The world's full of used and users, Toronkusu; I thought I'd toughened you up better than this."

Disliking the direction of the conversation, Trunks did the only logical thing: he brought up something else.

"That's not what I came here to ask you."

"Oh, you have a different reason now? All right, kid, if you didn't come here to die and you didn't come to figure out how the world really works...why'd you come?"

"How did you know Sandra?"

"Didn't," Juunana replied shortly.

"You knew she was Jinzouningen."

"You monkey-folk can sense where each other are--why not the rest of us?"

Trunks blinked. "You can sense other androids?"

"Unless I just misheard myself. Learn something new every day, eh, kid?"

"Were you the one that made her?"

Juunanagou looked at him oddly for a bit, choosing his words carefully. Having at last selected what he felt to eloquently embody his full response, he said succinctly: "Why the fuck would I make another android?"

Trunks blinked. "To help you take over the world." It was the first thing that came to mind.

"Do you have any idea how cheesy that sounds, kid? You think I'd want a world this trashed?"

"Your own damned fault," Trunks snorted.

"Perhaps. That's not really at issue here."

"I take all that to mean that you didn't create the other android?" It was puzzling, actually; neither of the twins had spoken this much when they were alive. He'd never been sure if it was part of their intimidation skills or merely that they'd had nothing to say, but this much talk from Juunanagou was mildly disconcerting. On the other hand, maybe if he could be kept talking he wouldn't attack...

"Oh, you're fast today, Toronkusu. Very impressive."

Ignoring the comment, Trunks continued his inquiry: it helped legitimize his assertion that he'd come here for answers. "Why did you kill her? Was she a threat to you?"

"Wasn't me she had on the ropes, kid. She was on her way out, anyhow; she probably wouldn't have lasted too long after finishing you."

"So why did you kill her?"

Juunana looked at him mildly. "Always were the stupidly persistent one..."

"Why, Juunanagou?"

"Because I felt like killing something? Because I don't like other androids? Because killing you is my sole privilege?" Juunana offered, smiling sweetly. "Pick a reason."

"Won't give me a straight answer?"

"Where's the fun in straight answers?"

Trunks heaved a tense sigh; a talkative Juunana was no more helpful than a silent one.

"Trust me, kid; I can give you two reasons why you don't want straight answers. One, you'll run out of material too quickly and knowing you, you'll start attacking just for lack of anything better to do."

"Oh, fighting's gotten boring, too?" Trunks muttered. "You're going to run out of ways to entertain yourself."

"Yes, that's what's got me concerned. Even rebuilt, it's such a dull world; I suppose I ought to go back to destroying cities," he said lightly. "That was pretty fun."

"I'm sure you thought so. Don't risk it, Jinzouningen. If you harm a single living thing all it'll earn you is a slower death." This wasn't to say that Trunks enjoyed torture or toying, but it seemed to be something to which the cyborg was reasonably averse, and therefore had to be exploited to its full advantage. Trunks had learned all about mental warfare (well, not all by far, but enough) from Vegeta during their year in the Room of Spirit and Time; at last, a chance to exercise it.

"All right, so you kill me. Slowly, or whatever." Juunanagou crossed his arms. "Then what?"

Trunks blinked. "What do you mean 'then what?'"

"I mean what happens after that? That's assuming I don't come back, of course, but I don't have any real plans for it. What do you do after I'm gone?"

"What do you care?"

"Just working out a theory, kid. Answer me. What'll you do when I'm gone?"

"I'll make damned sure you don't come back, that's what."

Juunana rolled his eyes and sighed. "Beyond that, Toronkusu. When I'm really truly gone and there aren't any big bad Jinzouningen to pummel--what then?"

"Peacetime, baka; it's long overdue."

"Mm." Juunanagou picked idly at his fingernails, looking carefully amused. The effect wasn't quite enough; Trunks, too used to seeing it, noticed the tension in the cyborg's body and hands and drew back a step, curling his fingers stiffly at his sides.

"Don't get any ideas, Jinzouningen. You won't catch me off-guard."

"Already have," Juunana remarked. "Just haven't completed my attack yet." He looked up at Trunks and smiled coldly. "Want me to?"

"No, but I doubt that matters."

"Oh, now, why would I ask if I didn't want to know, hmm? I'm not that rude."

Trunks snorted. "There are worse things I could call you than 'rude.'"

"Yes, but you've already called me all those. I'm rather sick of them; the least you could do is be a bit creative with what insults you throw at me."

"You'd rather I called you a bastard?"

"Better, but not quite insulting; it's true. How am I supposed to take offense at that?"

Trunks was about to ask just how Juunana could know it was true when the android cut in again, sharply.

"I'll tell you what you do that does offend me...you know, for future reference. See, you're pretty crappy with the verbal banter, but when it comes to physical insults, you manage even better than I did."

Trunks frowned, eyeing him. Just where the hell was this going?

"There are only a few things you've done, kid, that really genuinely pissed me off. Wanna know what they are? At least you'll have something to brag about then."

"Okay," Trunks said guardedly, slowly shifting to brace his feet farther apart, hands slightly clenched and no longer dangling loosely. Juunana appeared to be getting agitated; maybe humoring him would be the best option here...

"Well, for one thing--" He paused and snapped at Trunks, "Will you stop looking at me like I'm going to hit you?"

"Oh, sorry...that doesn't come until later?" Trunks muttered.

"Gods, you're dense; that or Juuhachi smacked you upside the head once too many times. Is your memory really that bad, kid?"

"Explain." Just keep him talking and maybe it would be okay...

Juunanagou sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, looking oddly weary. "Kid...did it occur to you to keep score or not? I'm guessing not."

"Keep score? Of what?"

"Of who hit you."

"You two hit me. Exclusively, training excepted. That's not a lot to keep track of," Trunks retorted, unable to keep a hint of bitterness from his tone.

"Yup, just the two of us, but Toronkusu...which one? We are separate people, you know; or are you still waiting for Juuhachi to jump out of the shadows at you?"

"Which one? What the hell does it matter which one? You were working together."

"Temper, temper, kid. Don't make me slap you; it'll only be the third time I hit you when it was purely my idea."

Trunks blinked and Juunana's shoulders shook with a wry, if strained, chuckle.

"You should've kept score, you know; it was rather telling."

But what was it supposed to tell me? "I'm not sure I follow, Juunanagou."

"Well, I can't say I'm too surprised. On the other hand I finally got you to say my name in a tone other than bellowing--bravo. Only took you two decades to figure out that my name's not 'Jinzouningen.' Really, it's the least you could do."

"Do?"

Juunana stepped forward and Trunks tensed. Shit, here it comes... Juunana walked straight up to him, looking him in the eye just long enough to make him uncomfortable, then smiled coolly.

"You owe me, kid," he murmured. "A hell of a lot more than you know. Think about it some time when you're not pants-wetting scared. I think you'd be surprised. Now get your ass home before I kick it; this is my territory."

Trunks swallowed, staring, and at length took a cautious step back, waiting for the inevitable. Juunana remained unmoving, as Trunks too slowly backed away, and with a soft muttered curse, took off for home.