Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ I Can't Make You Say Goodbye ❯ Renewal ( Chapter 4 )

Disclaimer: DB/Z/GT do not belong to me. ...Why do I bother to write these? It's not like someone is sitting at home in front of his/her computer screen right now going "Whoa! She DOESN'T? Could've fooled me!"

A/N: Final chapter! Really short, yes, but it ended that way. I don't make things longer or shorter than they're meant to be, and this one only wanted to be 3 pages long.

In this chapter, Kuririn does something that finally causes #18 to snap. What is it? What does #18 do? Will Leia ever end her endless stream of author's notes? Read and find out!

Chapter Four: Renewal

"Mommy, is Daddy still sad?" Marron sniffed, curled up in her mother's lap. #18 sat stroking her hair, holding the little girl close as she cried out of sympathy for her Daddy. "He chased Uncle Goku away."

"I know," #18 shook her head as she rocked Marron. "Daddy's not himself right now, that's all. He didn't mean to hurt Uncle Goku's feelings."

Marron looked up, her face bright with a sudden hope. "You think if I go play with Daddy, he'll feel a little better?"

#18 felt a sudden upsurge of love for her daughter as she gazed into those shining black eyes. "Guess there's only one way to find out, isn't there, Marron-chan?"

Marron scrambled off #18's lap, and she ran across the room to find her round, blue ball, long abandoned, and she picked it up. "I'll be back, Mommy."

#18 smiled, and she watched Marron skip outside. Please, Kuririn . . . please understand that she's trying to help you . . .

"Daddy?"

Kuririn glanced over at Marron, who stood next to him, holding her ball. "Daddy, will you play with me?"

Incredulity washed over him, and Kuririn's eyes popped. "Your little brother is dead, and you want to play? Marron, don't you care?"

"But Mommy says you can't be sad forever," Marron protested, clutching the ball tightly. "I thought if you played with me -"

Kuririn waved her off. "Thanks, Marron, but I don't want to play. Ask Mommy."

"I wanna' play with you," Marron's lower lip trembled.

"No, Marron!" Kuririn finally scowled, and he lifted his hand in a 'go away' gesture - but he wasn't looking, and therefore, miscalculated. Instead of his hand waving harmlessly in the air, Kuririn swung too far and caught Marron's cheek with an unintentionally-vicious backhand.

As soon as he realized what happened, Kuririn's head snapped around. Marron had fallen on her rear and was holding her cheek, her large eyes filling with tears. "You . . . hit me," the little girl sounded utterly surprised and betrayed.

Shock and horror at what he'd done - even by accident - cut through his ravaged emotions to stab him with pain anew. "Marron, are you all right?" Kuririn gasped, "I didn't mean to. I'm so sorry!"

Her eyes glistening like soap bubbles, Marron ran inside.

A sudden sense of foreboding filled him, and without thinking or knowing why, Kuririn began counting to ten. He barely got to four before the door slammed and an enraged #18 came storming outside, face twisted with fury. "Kuririn, I know you're upset, but what makes you think that gives you the excuse to hit your three-year-old?" she yelled.

"I didn't mean to," Kuririn tried to explain what happened, but #18 cut him off.

"I don't care what happened!" #18's fists were clenched tightly at her sides, shaking violently with the force of her anger. "You shouldn't have had your hands anywhere near her!"

The sorrow and heartache Kuririn was feeling on account of Kuri's death was quickly being replaced with astonishment, and not a little fear. He had never seen #18 this mad before - at least, not at him, and the result was frightening. In her ice-blue eyes was no hint of the love and care that was normally present there; only rage existed in those cool, blue orbs.

"You've been upset these last two weeks, and I certainly sympathize with that," #18 continued, face flushed. "But you've gone too far by hitting someone who can't fight back. Even by accident, that's unacceptable," #18's eyes flashed dangerously, and she raised a hand. "You need a way to channel your emotions, so fine! I'll give you one. You want a fight, you've got it."

Without further warning, #18 lashed out and caught Kuririn with a hard backhand to the face, identical to the one he had given Marron, only directed with such force that it sent him crashing into the wall of the house. "Get up!" she snapped, and Kuririn staggered to his feet. "I've seen you beating up the ocean every day, and it never fights back, so I'm giving you a chance to battle someone who will."

Kuririn shook his head, but this caused #18 to kick him in the chest, knocking him down. "Fight me!" #18 commanded, grabbing Kuririn by the hair and throwing him into the air. Without thinking, Kuririn raised his ki to hover there. "You have barely talked to me since Kuri died, but now I'm not giving you the choice!"

Flying into the air after him, #18 began raining down blow after blow with such intensity that Kuririn had to block or be seriously injured. For a brief second, Kuririn entertained the notion that somehow #18's old programming had taken over, but that ludicrous thought was immediately discarded when he looked into her eyes.

There was no malice, only two weeks' worth of suppressed hurt and sadness. But Kuririn didn't have much time to dwell on this, for #18's attacks were becoming more violent by the minute. "You ignored your daughter" - punch, kick - "You've ignored your friends" - punch, punch - "And you've ignored me. Tell me, Kuririn" - this was accompanied by a kick to the head that Kuririn just barely dodged - "What have you got to show for it? Is Kuri alive? No! Do you feel any better? I'm guessing no. Has shutting us out done anything but bring pain to you and everyone you know? No!"

#18's blows grew less planned and more wild, as though she was letting her emotions take over instead of concentrating on her assault. "You can't keep doing this! Have you forgotten about Marron? We may have lost a son, but we still have a daughter. She needs a father right now, not a hostile stranger who won't talk to her!"

As #18 spoke, her voice seemed to morph into that of Goku's, and again Kuririn felt the same anger that had overtaken him during that other conversation. All at once, something inside Kuririn snapped, and he stopped blocking and went on the offensive. "Stop telling me what to do!" he shouted, kicking her in the stomach. "You aren't me - how do you know how I'm feeling? I can't handle trying to comfort people right now; I just need to be alone. Why can't you understand that I can't deal with my grief and take care of my family at the same time?"

Marron stood with Kamesen'nin on the porch, watching the battle fearfully, keeping one hand over her newly-bruised cheek. At first glance, the battle seemed like any of the daily sparring matches her parents used to have, but it was obvious that they weren't play-fighting, now. Even during their worst practice fights, Mommy had never made Daddy bleed like that. They were yelling, too, and they never yelled at each other. "I've never seen Mommy and Daddy fight before," Marron observed in a small voice.

"Not like this," Kamesen'nin agreed, his voice bleak. He took Marron's hand, leading her back inside the house. "-'mon, Marron, you shouldn't watch this."

"Everyone's been telling me that I have to be strong for you and Marron, but I can't anymore!" Kuririn yelled, launching a volley of kicks. "I can't just put my feelings aside and pretend I don't have any. I'm sorry, but I'm not like that. And I used to think you understood me. I guess not!"

"Kuri meant just as much to me as he did to you," #18 reminded him while kicking him in the side, ADid you ever consider that? Do you know what it was like, to carry him inside me for six whole months? I felt it every time he moved, every time he kicked - everything he did, it was like an extension of myself. Having a person living inside me was wonderful - and with him gone, that part of me is gone, too. Don't tell me I don't understand you!"

#18 startled him by directing a hard punch to Kuririn's face, causing blood to begin flowing from the spot where his nose should have been. "Does that hurt?" she demanded, sending a bone-jarring kick to his ribs. "Does that?"

Kuririn coughed, spitting out a mouthful of blood. "Of course it does!"

"Which hurts more?" This?" - she kneed him in the stomach - "Or what you're feeling inside?"

Caught off-guard, Kuririn snapped, "Inside, obviously! If you're trying to hurt me physically more than I am emotionally, you might as well give up now, because you'll have to kill me first."

"Then cry!" #18 commanded, hitting him again - harder this time, if that were possible. "Don't you see, that's what your problem is! You have all this pain and emotional torment building up inside you, and you haven't cried or done anything to get rid of it!"

Kuririn shook his head. "I can't! You just don't get it, #18."

"No, you don't get it!" #18's face twitched, then something happened and she began to cry - hot, angry tears that poured down her face like rain during a thunderstorm. "Kuririn! Blast it, I love you! When I have to sit there and watch you tear yourself up emotionally, it kills me, too. You may not understand it, but the more you kill yourself, the more you torment me!"

Kuririn stopped dead as #18 continued her tirade, tears still streaming down her cheeks. "Please come back to us, Kuririn. Marron needs you - all right, I need you. And I think you need us, too," she backed off, not attacking, not screaming, just pleading. "I hate seeing you like this. I want to be able to help you, but you have to let me," a choked-off sob rose in her throat, making her words all but unintelligible. "Why have you shut me out? Why? Don't you know how much that hurts?"

Kuririn shook his head in bewilderment, trying to make some sense out of the rapid shift in #18's emotions. He had seen her cry before, but never with such hopelessness or intensity. Finally, Kuririn managed to speak, but could only say one thing. "I'm sorry . . ."

#18's eyes widened as she hovered, chest heaving, exhausted from the fight, from yelling, from crying . . . surprise filled her when she looked at Kuririn's eyes. In his expression, she knew her words had reached him, at last.

"I'm so sorry - I couldn't - I didn't know how to deal, I couldn't handle -" Kuririn's voice caught in his throat, and he wiped some of the blood that was dripping into his eyes, making them sting. "It just hurt so bad, and I didn't know how to make it go away - I'm so sorry -"

Suddenly, a miraculous thing happened; Kuririn began to cry. Not just any bout of tears - the kind of crying that starts at the very depths of the soul and comes up through every part of the body and mind. Harsh, wracking sobs filled him, and Kuririn buried his face in his hands, his entire body convulsing as he cried harder than he ever had before.

#18 felt a wave of relief wash over her, and she closed her eyes, silently releasing her thanks. She covered the few feet that separated them, put a hand on his back. Kuririn shuddered at the touch, and #18 wrapped her arms around him and pulled him to her. It wasn't long before Kuririn flung his arms around her waist, burying his face in her shirt, sobbing hysterically.

"It just hurt so much," Kuririn's voice shook violently. "I couldn't be strong for you guys, I couldn't be strong for myself . . . I didn't know what to do, and I hated myself for how I was being, but I couldn't help it. I'm so sorry!"

"It's all right," #18 whispered. Her tears dripped off her chin, landing on Kuririn's face to mingle with his own. "It's going to be all right."

Kuririn nodded, and for the first time since the car accident, he knew she was right.

The two figures hovered in the air, intertwined in one another's arms, holding each other and crying. But it was not the hopeless sobs of lonely, isolated parents - at last, they were the cries of two people who had finally allowed the other to help.

At long last, two broken hearts melded to become one.

******

Well, there you have it. When I was writing this, I didn't know how to end it -- so I asked the characters. Literally. I closed my eyes, put them in the scene, and let them act it out, then wrote it down -- and here's what happened. I figured an explosive confrontation like that would be the most accurate way to get their feelings in the open. Do you agree? Disagree? Neither, or both?

So, there you have it. I liked this story, despite its depressing premise, and it was healthy for me to get it out. It's, in my opinion, anyway, one of my most 'realistic' DB fanfics. I hope I was able to portray the characters, emotions, and the situation accurately.