Strangers

Disclaimer: DB/Z/GT aren't mine. So there.

This is a re-post. I decided I didn't like the ending to it, so .... sorry to those who read/reviewed already. I'm making it longer, I think, so we'll see how it goes, shall we?

Strangers

Three figures played on a white, sandy beach.  Two of them sat, crouched on the sand, while the third one -- decidedly smaller than the others -- stood, being held up by two pairs of guiding hands.  All three were smiling, and completely unaware they were being watched.

A lone figure “stood” in the sky, ice-blue eyes watching the scene with apparently detached interest.  The ocean breeze blew a few strands of black hair into them, and were brushed away impatiently by a gloved hand.  Artificial Human #17 stared down at the beach, hardly daring to believe what he saw.

His sister, #18, was sitting with a small, shaggy-haired man, both of them smiling.  Between them was a tiny baby with blonde pigtails, who couldn’t be too much more than a year old. #17's eyes narrowed as he studied the child; it was a little girl, whose eyes and basic facial structure resembled the man on the beach.  Hmm . . . obviously her father, then.  But what was #18 doing there? #17 nearly fell out of the sky when he looked from his sister’s cornsilk-coloured hair to the child’s.

#18???  A mother???

#17 had been looking for his sister ever since he’d awakened five years before.  He’d searched the forest he’d woken up in, since he knew she liked quiet, and surrounding cities, since she loved to shop, but no luck.  Finally, after a few years of living on his own as a lumberjack, #17 had decided to try what he’d previously considered the least likely places on this planet -- the homes of Son Goku’s friends. 

#18 hadn’t been at any of those places, and #17 had almost given up when his memory reminded him of the small, pink house on the island near the area where he and Piccolo had battled years before.  In a last-ditch desperation effort, #17 had tried it.

And there she was . . . with a child, no less! #17 passed a hand over his eyes, completely and utterly shocked.  How could his sister -- his twin, for heaven’s sake! -- have changed so much in five years, to go from completely hating humans to marrying one and . . . and . . .

He frowned.  Which fighter was it?  He thought he recognized him, but the tousled black hair was unfamiliar. #17 ran a database check on him, and his eyes widened when the results came up: Kuririn.  Kuririn?! The pint-sized man #18 had kissed on the highway?! #17 almost died.  Sure, he’d teased #18 before, telling her that she had a crush on the tiny fighter, and he’d the reward he’d gotten for his gibes had been a backhand that sent him flying.  But he hadn’t been serious!!!

Kuririn said something, and #17's cybernetic hearing picked it up: “Hey #18, if you’ll watch Marron for a while, I can start lunch.”

And #18 actually smiled at him!  Him, a puny little human! #17's teeth ground together.  He’d just found his sister, and certainly hadn’t planned on giving her up to the likes of that weakling!

The human went back inside the house, and #17 waited a minute before flying down to the beach. #18 jumped as he landed, not speaking, but then a wide smile crossed her face -- the most emotion he’d seen her express toward him in a long time.  “#17!” she exclaimed, still smiling, “I don’t believe it!”

The little girl, who was keeping her balance by holding onto her mother’s pants, looked up at him solemnly.  “Mama?” she stuck one finger in her mouth, regarding #17 curiously. #18 looked down at her, and that affectionate smile flitted across her face again. #17 felt a twinge of jealousy -- he’d only seen her give him that look before.  That was their private smile . . . when had #18 begun giving it to others?  He’d spent five years looking for his twin, and now that he’d found her, she was happily married, with a child, and had probably never given her brother a second thought.

“Can you wait a minute?” #18 asked him, and apology flickered in her eyes.  “I’ll just give Marron to Kuririn and I’ll be right back.”

“Sure,” #17 crossed his arms.  He felt guilty for being angry, but he couldn’t help it.

As good as her word, #18 returned a minute or so later.  “I told Kuririn I was going to fly around for a while,” she told him, “He said I don’t have to hurry back.”

“You have to ask him if you can go places?” #17 raised an eyebrow.  “That doesn’t sound like the #18 I knew.”

She frowned at him and took to the air.  He hesitated, then followed.  “I don’t have to ask him anything.  It’s just polite,” the confusion wore off as they began to fly. “I’ve missed you,” she admitted quietly, sounding almost embarrassed.  Though #17 and #18 had been all each other had since their modifications by Gero, neither had shown any affection toward each other until #17's absorption by Cell.  The statement from #18 was something neither of them were used to.

In light of what #17 had seen earlier, however, the jinzouningen could only give a perfunctory grunt in response.  “Have you?” he heard the harshness that invaded his tone, but didn’t try to stop it.  “Have you really?”

#18 jumped, and she spun her head around to look at him, her blonde hair swirling around her face with the movement.  #17 felt a sharp pang as he regarded her face -- she was so beautiful . . . he’d always been proud of his sister, proud that she cared for him and only him.  It had made him feel almost special -- privileged -- to have #18 as his twin sibling, to share the bond that (he’d thought) only twins could share.  That pride was still there, though buried beneath years of loneliness, but the new layer of betrayal began to paint over it, obscuring it further.

“#17, what do you mean, ‘have I really’?  I wouldn’t lie to you!”

Her eyes were filled with pain, and #17 was suddenly reminded of her face during the battle with Cell -- she’d looked as though her whole world had been spun upside-down.  Noticing this didn’t change #17's emotions, though, and the skin at the corners of his eyes tightened with annoyance.  “Maybe you don’t realize you’re lying, but you are.  Honestly, #18, think back over the last five years.  How often have you thought about me?”

“All the time!” #18 retorted, and the surprise in her voice was evident now.  “I can’t believe you’re bringing this up.  After all we’ve been through together --”

“After all we’ve been through together,” #17 added, sarcasm hardening the lines of his face and causing his words to come out sounding meaner than intended.  “You didn’t even check to see if I was still alive.  You went off and happily married the best friend of the man we are programmed to kill.  You had a child with him, and didn’t bother to even wonder where I was.  I’ll bet any money you have that you never thought to look for me even once.”

“No, I didn’t,” #18's ice-blue eyes were narrowed, and #17 almost backed away a little.  The last time he had seen that expression on his sister’s face -- one of rage and loathing -- she had been looking at Dr. Gero.  “You know why?  Because I thought you were dead.  I saw Cell absorb you.  I watched you get sucked into his tail.  I heard you screaming.  Later, I experienced what you’d gone through, and I knew you couldn’t have survived.  I was spit out when Cell battled Gohan, but you weren’t.  How was I supposed to know you were alive?”

She flew close to him, so that their faces were almost touching.  “After Cell was destroyed, I kept to myself for two years.  It wasn’t until three years ago that Kuririn found me, and it took him almost another year for me to trust him enough to get married to him.  Do you know why?”

#18 didn’t wait for #17 to reply -- still scowling, she pressed on with her angered narrative.  “Because I was still mourning over you.  No matter what you think, I do remember how close we were.  How you were like my other half, in a world that hated us because it didn’t understand us.  It took me that year to learn to let go, and to accept that you weren’t coming back.  I cried for you, #17.  Have you ever seen me cry?  Of course you haven’t!  But I cried for you -- I cried every single night for months.”

Her eyes softened, and the fire in them died, to be replaced by a sad loneliness.  “I still cry sometimes.  I’m not ashamed to admit it anymore.  I’ve missed you so much; I almost considered leaving Kuririn and Marron once, because I couldn’t take the pain,” all of a sudden, the anger was back.  “So don’t tell me I haven’t missed you!”

#17 looked away, unable to hold her gaze, just as he had done in the past.  Though #18 had always called him “Boss” during their escapades before Cell’s arrival, #17 had always known that his older sister was unquestionably in charge.  When she looked at him like that, he couldn’t meet her stare for more than a few seconds.

But it wasn’t submission that made #17 drop his gaze this time.  Now, burning in the jinzouningen’s heart was a cold flame, tended by five years of solitude and now fanned to roaring strength by his sister’s words.  A hatred -- not of #18, but of what this world had done to her.  He didn’t want #18 to admit how much she cared for him.  That wasn’t what he wanted!  This wasn’t his sister -- his sister would never say that she missed him; would never admit to nearly sacrificing her happiness because she couldn’t “take the pain” anymore.

Would never admit to crying.

#17 didn’t want things to change.  He hated change!  Change was what had gotten him into all this trouble in the first place, and now, had taken away his only chance for happiness.

Change brought Dr. Gero, and his maniacal scientific “experiments” that had spawned the hell that #17 was now trapped in. 

Change brought the mission to destroy Son Goku, which was fun until it had gotten complicated. 

Change brought the sudden, dramatic upsurge in Piccolo’s strength, which, had the battle not been interrupted, would have resulted in the first fight #17 had ever lost. 

Change brought Cell, who had turned #17's world topsy-turvy, destroying him and his sister until, by some magical force, coincidental or not, they had been restored to life.

And, perhaps most importantly, change had turned his sister from the reliable, trust-inspiring twin into the enigma that now stood before him.  The woman who felt human emotions, and wasn’t afraid to admit that to him.  The woman who married a human, and who had given birth to a little girl.  The woman who cried.

“What happened to you?” #17 shouted, and the suddenness of the outburst startled #18, causing her to flinch.  “You used to be so . . . so . . . binary sometimes!  I was supposed to be the one who tested our artificial half, while you told me not to be stupid.  You were always the one who hated humans with a passion, and never admitted to having any emotions.  Or wanting them, either.  You understood that we jinzouningen are better than those pathetic humans.  When did you change?”

His voice hardened.  “When did you decide to become one of them?”

An expression between hurt and bewilderment coloured #18's face, and her gaze ran over him almost as though she expected him to be an illusion, or an impostor.  “What has gotten into you?  Why are you so accusatory all of a sudden?  What did you want me to say -- that I didn’t miss you at all?  No, because you would have gotten angry at me for that, too.  What do you want from me?”

“I want things to be the way they used to be,” #17 replied, and though he tried to keep his tone cold and aloof, some of the betrayal seeped in, as well.  “You and me against the world, where all we had to count on was each other, and nobody could come between us.  We could hijack cars, and steal clothes, and blow up the silly humans, and neither of us gave a Namekusejin’s behind what anyone thought about us.  I want that back.”

“You know I can’t do that,” #18’s voice was soft, something else #17 had never heard from her.  “I’m married to Kuririn, and like it or not, most of his friends have accepted me.  I can’t just go back to murdering and stealing.  It would be . . . well, betraying their trust in me.”

“What about my trust in you?” #17 cut in, and the pain he felt didn’t let him listen beyond #18’s words.  He didn’t see the hurt in her eyes at his accusation, or the sense of inner peace that seemed to radiate from her when she spoke of her husband.  All he saw was a human woman with ice-blue eyes hovering in front of him.  “I trusted that you would be the same; that you would still be the one person I could rely on.  But you . . . you’ve turned human on me!”

#18 reached out and clasped his shoulders, frowning. #17 tried to jerk away, but his sister’s grasp was unbreakable.  Well, he thought grudgingly, At least she hasn’t lost her strength.  “I haven’t ‘turned human’, and I’m still your sister.  The only thing that’s different is that you’re not the only one I care for anymore.  I have a husband and a daughter, and I love them both.  I’m sorry if that’s painful to hear, but it’s the truth.”

#17’s eyes narrowed and he finally managed to shift out from under #18’s hands.  He clenched his fists, dropping into the ready stance, and smirked at the expression of surprise and even fear that sprang up on his sister’s face.  “Would you fight for them?” he demanded, powering up a tiny energy blast and running it lazily over the backs of his fingers.  “Would you kill me to protect them?”

******