'Delayed reaction...must not be quite dead yet...' Trunks swallowed hard and forced himself to step close enough to nudge the body with the toe of his boot. No reaction: not a twitch or a gasp. The split bodysuit stuck wetly to paling flesh.

"Damn it, Lidivy, don't you do this to me..." Trunks growled under his breath, overcome with the sudden urge to strike the corpse, beat on it until it ceased to look like her. It had to change. Trunks gave up poking the body and reassumed his stance, boots sticking slightly to the tile. When he heard something shift behind him he stiffened but did not move, unable to tear his eyes from the slowly-cooling body--still waiting. Any moment now he'd change and they could all go home...

"Trunks?" Goten shifted again, pulling himself up on one elbow.

"He was trying to kill you," Trunks said dully. Goten inhaled slowly; this wouldn't likely be good.

"Trunks, no," he murmured. "She wasn't."

"You weren't even conscious."

"I am now...Trunks, look at me."

"Why?"

"Please just turn around."

"As soon as she changes; I want to see it."

Goten sighed and rolled to his side, starting slightly as he spotted his brother. Gohan gave no indication he'd even seen Goten; at the present moment he was attempting to pet Kabu, much to the joint consternation of both child and cyborg. Juunana edged away, muttering at Kabu to stop growling, damn it, it was annoying.

"Gohan?" Goten asked tentatively, trying to sit up.

Gohan ignored him, lurching off the throne and stumbling toward Juunanagou, hand outstretched. Kabu snarled; Juunana gave him an irritated look and lightly knocked Gohan off his feet. Anything to get the stupid brat to shut up...

"Hey!" Goten struggled to his feet; that failing, he scrabbled on all fours to Gohan's side, glaring at Juunanagou. Gohan, for his part, seemed not to have minded being laid out on the floor, and looked up at Goten with something approximating surprise.

"Eh, relax, he's durable," Juunana commented. "The floor felt that more than he did."

"That's not the point," Goten muttered, looking Gohan over, pausing every once in a while to pry Gohan's hands off his hair or clothing. "What did you do to him?"

The Jinzouningen snorted. "Not a thing. This is what he got for standing in the way of Her Royal Bitchness. I'd give him nine out of ten for melodramatic heroism, but minus several thousand for foresight. There was good reason I hadn't killed her yet."

"And how was he supposed to know, huh?"

"Well, considering how I took attempted control last time...ah, but that was before your time, wasn't it? Tsk...you kids these days. Didn't you learn it's safest to know your enemies?"

"Didn't realize you were the enemy," Goten grumbled, now patting himself down for injuries.

"Mm. Truth be told, I'm not; but I'm also not your friend, and since you insist on such black-and-white distinctions..."

"Well, if you're not an enemy and not a friend, whose side are you on?"

"Mine. It makes life so much simpler that way."

"Very helpful," Goten spat, pressing on his ribs experimentally.

"Never claimed to be," Juunana said mildly, looking around. "Looks like Lidivy decided to get while the getting was bad."

"He's right here," Trunks uttered sharply, glaring accusingly at the corpse. The cyborg sauntered over and peered.

"Wow..." A low whistle. "Nice work, there. Quite thorough."

"Go away."

"Just admiring the handiwork, Trunks. You know, it's a good thing she was weakened or she might not have cut so easily."

Trunks' eyes finally shifted from Takira to Juunanagou, expressionless not like Gohan's, not vacant but very dead and cold. He said nothing...but he knew.

"I said get away," Trunks muttered, kneeling gingerly beside Takira, hands hovering over her wound and her face. Juunanagou made no move to leave. Trunks, tired of wasting his breath, proceeded to ignore him completely, concentrating instead on forcing himself to touch a matted spike of Takira's hair; after a moment he brushed it back out of her face gently enough to be a mockery of his actions earlier.

'Was it fate, Takira? Was this how it was meant to end? I know you didn't want to see me anymore; I swear I didn't want you to cross my path again. It's not that small a universe...why couldn't you have gone further? How far apart do we have to be before you stop hurting me...is Hell far enough? Yes, Takira, that's where you're going; you know it, too. Maybe you'll see my father there and finally be satisfied. He was what you wanted, wasn't he? I was just your fling, something to pass the time while you waited for him.

'For gods' sake, you could have told me.

'Don't look so surprised, Taki, you knew me so well; you must have seen this coming, must have. Maybe you were even aiming for it. That's what it was, wasn't it? You were trying to escape and wanted me to help you. Why me? Did you hate me so much? I don't genuinely hate you even now. Of course, if that's what you want...

'In another place I stand as sole protector of a dying world. They respect me there, depend on me, look to me for strength and guidance and comfort. No mate at my side there, no distractions--I can see now why not. I let you get under my skin; I failed the people I love for no better reason than the scars you left on me. I can't afford to be that weak anymore; I owe them all too much.

'All that I owe you, Takira...perhaps I repaid today.'

Unaware even that he'd moved, Trunks slipped a hand behind her limp neck and pulled her up, resting the dead weight of her head against his chest, his fingers clasped in her hair.

'You told me you wouldn't live without a reason, and I guess I wasn't reason enough. It's okay...the least I could do was help you out of this life you didn't want. I still don't understand it, but you're Saiyajin, aren't you? Life is cheap to you, even yours. I hope I'm never cold enough to think that way.

'Let's not think of that now. It doesn't matter, none of this matters. Water under the bridge...or maybe blood, I don't know. Not important. Did what I had to; maybe you never believed in fate, Takira, but I do...if not for that my father never would have lived long enough to sire me. Whatever I feel now, this was meant to be, and I haven't the time to find the answer now. Maybe you know. Maybe someday you can tell me why.

'...tell me why I had to be the one.'

Silent, he lay Takira out on the tile again and stood, blood sticking in wet creases along his pants where he'd knelt. For what seemed a long time he merely watched the body chill and stiffen, his face set, unreadable.

'You didn't cry when you left me, did you--no, I don't think you did. If you can be that strong, then I guess so can I...' Blinking dry eyes, he extended one hand, noting only in passing that it quivered slightly. Severed ends of ribs shone with a dull cartilaginous glare in the glow cast by the ki building in Trunks' open palm. After several moments trying to steel his nerves, Trunks looked away and--as quickly as could be managed--incinerated Takira's remains.

That done, he felt marginally better...or at least, felt less; a sort of empty numbness came with the realization of such finality, and the anaesthetic was more than welcome. Calmly removed, Trunks turned to determine the source of Goten's sudden shout.

Goten was struggling to pry his ankle from Gohan's grasp, waving frantically after an apparently fled Juunanagou. Trunks could hardly see how it mattered; then he recalled with a twinge of cold that unless something had changed, the cyborg still had Takira's child. Trunks started after him and paused as the unmistakable sound of lift-off roared through the cavernous room.

Hmm...Goten was chattering something about following. Trunks looked at him for a while, then at Gohan. He'd brought them here. It was his responsibility to bring them back safely...if not, apparently, soundly. No time for guilt, not now(later, perhaps). There were things to do here, and probably many more to do on Earth. His friends were counting on him and he no longer had that feminine excuse for letting them down.

Even as he stooped to pick up a squirming Gohan, Trunks was aware of Goten talking to him. Was it important? Difficult to tell. Well, they would sort that out on the ship. It was dangerous to stay here, and they could afford no more danger.

"Come on, Goten," Trunks murmured, cradling Gohan like an overgrown child and walking slowly to the exit. "It's time for us to go home."