Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ A Shadow in the Twilight ❯ Chapter 40 ( Chapter 40 )

Chapter 40

The normally white spacepod glowed bright vermilion as the uppermost atmospheric gases flared around it, leaving a brief white-yellow trail in its wake, through the blood-red planet's dark thermosphere. Despite being assured of the protection afforded by the thick, heat-resistant coating on the pod's outer skin, the increased, albeit temporary, warmth always made Bardock feel a little like a side of meat roasting in an oven. Before his craft had hit the topmost atmosphere and his communication with the control tower was temporarily cut off, he'd received a brief heads-up that all absorption pads nearest to the training domes (and Lluvia) were in use and he would have to wait his turn for clearance to land.

Judging by the amount of traffic circling the planet in various holding patterns and the harried voice coming through the speakers, Bardock surmised that the space/air traffic controller was far too busy to grill him about his unscheduled return to Vegeta-sei. Already as a result of the high traffic volume, the usually lengthy interrogation given to incoming pilots by the controller was cut down to one or two perfunctory inquiries. For Lluvia's mate, that small bit of serendipity was something for which to be grateful, but not by much.

That's all I need, thought a frustrated Bardock as his pod finally broke through the oxygen-deficient blanket into the mesosphere. Another bloody delay! But, thank Kami, I am finally here!

Although she didn't look it, Lluvia was exhausted and sore all over. The culmination of every good and bad thing that had occurred to her over the last twenty-four hours was taking its toll on her. The prince had not held back on any of his punches and her body was starting to recount all of them in achingly finite detail. Thanks to Vegeta's punishing hits, parts of her body had bruises on top of bruises. It wouldn't have surprised her if any of her bones were sporting a few hairline fractures, either. A snare drum on the receiving end of one of Connore's more spirited percussion solos would probably have looked the same as she felt right then.

There'll be time enough to lick my wounds once this fight is over, she reasoned.It'll be difficult, but I can weather these lumps for the time being.

Lluvia dared a quick glance down at her bare arms and was relieved to see that the accumulation of contusions were only showing as very light mottling under her lilac skin. She sucked in a few breaths and gritted her teeth as she double-clenched her fists, making her aura flare higher for a few seconds. This forced a suppression wave, beginning with her clenched hands, shooting up her arms and into her body. What little amount of discoloration that had shown on the surface faded away in moments and her lovely skin was restored to its pale, flawless beauty.

This was the single, most difficult technique she'd had to learn from her sensei's teachings, and the one that took her the longest to properly master: the ability to suppress the appearance of any significant injuries from an opponent's detection. It played upon one of the most basic psychological aspects of a fight: the visual evidence of a successful assault. If an opponent could not see any injuries with his/her own eyes, doubt and fear would dig their erosive paths even into the most confident of fighters. And Akira Masaki had made certain that this rare technique would be passed down only to the most adept of his students.

That's…not possible, thought an incredulous Vegeta as he saw the light purplish bruises he'd earlier inflicted recede off her as if they'd been but trivial afterthoughts. Can this be one of the famed Masaki techniques of which I kept hearing? Self-healing?That would double - no, triple, the endurance of a warrior in the midst of a battle!

((I'm coming, Lluvia! Gambate, ai! I will be there very soon!))

Startled by the strength of the telepathic message lancing through her mental shielding, she involuntarily gasped. ((Bardock! What…?))

((I am currently in a parabolic holding pattern above Vegeta-sei and I have only a few more orbits to make prior to final approach and landing!)) his mental voice answered.

((But, your mission to Meat-sei…!))

((Need I remind you that we two are bonded? Your battles are mine, just as mine are yours, to share and face together? My lotus blossom, you have fought too many battles alone for far too long. Whatever happens to me, I will be there; to fight by your side, to protect you…forever!))

Lluvia's heart thudded and leapt as her mate's passionate words rang in her head and touched deeply into her heart. However, one huge obstacle stood in the way of their planned reunion. There he was, in all his royal glory with a scowl plastered onto his panting, dripping face; stubbornly poised to continue this sham of a battle until one of them was dead.

And, Lluvia told herself, as a dark shadow settled over her features, I'll be doubly damned if I'm going to let it be me!

((Bardock, I have to again close the door between us in order to mount my final offensive! I've been holding back against Vegeta until now, but I must focus everything within me to defeat him! Aishiteru yo, Bardock!)))

((Woman, don't you dare go and do anything rash before I….!)) he began, but their psychic connection was severed once more before Bardock could complete his warning.

"You've brought this upon yourself, Vegeta," Lluvia softly muttered. "I never wanted it to come to this, but you've left me no other recourse."

It hadn't been easy or painless, but Puerro and Cebolla had managed to elbow their way towards the front of the tight cluster of floating Saiya-jins nearest the king. Out of everyone there, the sergeant had a vested interest in the outcome of the fight, and he wasn't going to let anybody block his view. His stomach tightened involuntarily as he focused his attention downward onto Lluvia's face.

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, he repeated in a silent mantra. She's going to go for it! He didn't know exactly what she had in mind, but he'd seen that hardened look on many warriors' faces before; it was the look that signaled the advent of a final, potentially killing, attack.

Cebolla was all set to air one of his more witty commentaries, when he noticed the drops of sweat running down his companion's tense face and quickly shut his mouth.

Lluvia's arms traced the air with slow, graceful patterns as she settled herself into an attack stance. Her left side faced Vegeta, as she froze into position with both arms stiffened and upraised. He automatically responded by snapping into a defensive counter-stance.

Then, almost as if she'd suddenly changed her mind about attacking him, she abandoned her stance and straightened up, dropping her arms back down to her sides. By now, Vegeta figured that he'd better expect the unexpected from his opponent, and he stayed right as he was. Tension continued to build up in his quivering muscles, as sweat dripped off his body and made puddles on the floor.

I might as well go for all the marbles, thought Lluvia. Her fisted left hand rose again, pointing straight-armed towards the prince. At the same time, she bent her right arm and tucked her other hand behind her back. To the surprise of everyone, she slowly twisted her raised fist upside-down. And, in an act of blatant contempt, shot him a one-fingered salute.

Vegeta froze for a disbelieving heartbeat or two; then, forgoing his defensive posture altogether, he clenched his gloved fists, threw back his head, and roared with all his might. His furious magenta aura shook the very air, breaking small chunks off the floor and walls, sending them in helter-skelter swirls inside the enclosure.

That damned ningen bitch was going to learn once and for all that the Crown Prince of Vegeta-sei was not one to be ridiculed!

Puerro guessed that Lluvia would try something out-of-the-ordinary, but even he was baffled by her pulling what amounted to nothing but a juvenile taunting gesture. Or was it part of a planned strategy to use the young prince's stubborn pride and fury against him? His question was answered soon enough as a glowing Prince Vegeta shot himself towards his brazen antagonist in an unseeing rage.

Lluvia felt the world around her suddenly shift into a slower mode of existence. Minute details became sharpened as all of her senses heightened and stretched outward. There was no turning back or running away this time. Almost as if she was detached from the action developing in slow motion, she watched him draw his right arm back, and saw the raw hate glisten in the depths of his dark eyes as he flew ever closer to her.

Shit! This is going to cut it awfully close, but I don't have much of a choice anymore…steady…steady…NOW!

Aided by the unanticipated grab of her left hand on his right wrist, his forward momentum continued further than he'd intended, as she threw her own twisting weight into the tug on his outstretched arm. She could smell the acrid buildup of sweat and blood on the leather glove as his fist skimmed past her left nostril and the friction of its passage grazed her cheek.

His head whipped around to hurl a passing glare at her as her eyes tracked him in a fixed, unwavering stare. Lluvia knew that an opportunity like this would not present itself again. If she didn't hit her target now, she'd be history.

The ki energy she'd been concentrating into her concealed right index and middle fingers held just enough power to paralyze him through his "third eye", located due north of the mid-scrunch mark between his dark, glowering brows.

Stung yet again by her clever evasion of his newest strike, Vegeta was mentally formulating his next counter-move when he felt the warmth of her two fingertips making contact with his forehead. The light, almost gentle, sensation took him totally by surprise, feeling more like a love-tap than a blow. A new smirk died a-borning on his face the second that he felt his well-trained body seize up on him and suddenly go limp.

Like an idle marionette supported by invisible strings, Prince Vegeta hung unmoving in midair. With only her two extended fingers touching him, Lluvia held him in a secure, paralyzing thrall. It wasn't the fairest of moves, she'd admit; but as she'd heard time and again, all was fair in love and war and this situation hardly qualified as the former.

Her dear friends were far enough away to be safe and Bardock would be joining her very shortly. Not to mention, her considerable stock of patience with the prince's misdeeds had finally reached its own limits.

Fully in control, she quickly repositioned her hands on both sides of the immobile prince's muscular neck and held him dangling between them. His onyx eyes no longer burned with confidence and anger, but went wide with true fear as they saw the reflection of pitilessness in her dark blue gaze