Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Holding On ❯ Reflection ( Chapter 4 )

Disclaimer:

DBZ… Akira Toriyama (that means not me)

Arashino miko©, Abouri© (pronounced Avori©) is a character of my own design that I have been developing since 1997. (That's way before I even knew DBZ existed). Please don't try and steal her because I have documentation that dates way back to show she's mine and I'm a comic artist and animator, and I'm using her in commercial works. Thank you so much for listening.

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Author's notes: This is my first fic and I hope it is well received. This is not an A/U. It takes place during the years before we meet our favorite prince.

Here's a little help for those who aren't familiar with Japanese. First let me say, I hate seeing a fic littered with random Japanese words… it's very distracting for those who can speak Japanese. Therefore, I was reluctant to do this, but there are titles throughout that are in Japanese. I wanted to show the importance of respectful titles and formality to the characters, and I find it easier than reinventing the wheel and making up my own.

Ouji… prince

Ou… king

Miko… priestess

-sei… added to planet name

-jin… added to place name, those are the people native to that place.

-sama… added to someone's name or title to show respect

Kumo means `cloud' and Arashi means `storm'.

Therefore, Saiyajinno Oujisama means `honored Prince of Saiyajin' and Arashino miko means `Priestess of Storms'.

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Chapter Four- Reflection

Abouri opened her eyes, oblivious to the brightness of the artificial sunlight that flooded them. Many things of the previous seven months touched her mind. Seven months ago, she had been faithfully fulfilling her duties as Arashino miko when she received a summons to attend `leadership' training on Furiizaa's starship. She went off world for the second time in her life, assuring her people that she would soon return. Her people looked to her for many things. She was healer. She regulated the weather and sustained a planet that would otherwise have been mined dry of the only thing that kept her people in Furiizaa's favor.

Furiizaa…

The name meant many things to many peoples. To Kumosei, it meant tyranny of an unseen nature. An invisible hand squeezing its neck until its blackened tongue swells from its mouth. Until the planet was lifeless and useless… expendable. The only thing that kept it `safe' was the constant flow of materials exported into a greedy indiscernible mouth. That name was synonymous with terror. If to defy Furiizaa was death, then at least there was hope of escape, but to defy him guaranteed a fate much worse. To be his toy, a tattered, morbid plaything, that was discarded when it was broken beyond the scope of use. His game was abuse, and he was very good at it.

She frowned slightly.

To Bejiitasei, the name Furiizaa meant absolutely nothing. It had meant oblivion. She had a sneaking suspicion that the tyrant had some hand in Bejiitasei's death. It had become a game with too many missing components.

"Bejiitasama…" The name slipped from her lips in a whisper.

Is that all that will become of this Arashino miko? Is my fate to be his marionette? When I am defiant will he construct some broken doll from this husk to be used for his perversions? Her eyes narrowed, but not from the bright light. That was all he would get, the empty shell that once housed the miko. She would leave her corpse to him before she would allow him to violate her while she resided within. It had been six months since he has shown me the possibilities and there is not a time alone with him when I am not reminded. I know he will not violate me. Not yet. When my usefulness is through, though… only then will I become that type of morbid doll. My chastity is the only thing I have to hold on to. How ironic. Chastity, what they threaten to destroy, is the thing that keeps them from destroying it. A paradox to ponder later. Her thoughts turned to her homeworld, robbed of its virgin soil. Kumosei was one of Furiizaa's many unwilling whores and the galaxy was his bordello. She wondered how long the gradual rape of Kumosei could continue before her beautiful blue and white planet gave up the will to live without Arashino miko to restore her spirit?

Four months had passed since her shrine was completed. The room in which she resided was the same false meadow, now complete with a fountain and a small elevated roofed platform. The architecture was lovely, much like her shrine on Kumosei. Long smooth pillars supported the one room. There were no walls to speak of, just thin columns that accented the perimeter of the room, toped with an elongated dome. A thin, winding stairway allowed seekers to approach her. The structure was close to the edge of the fountain farthest from the entrance to her feigned Kumosei. The fountain was a small lake whose waters she filed herself and purified daily. The healing waters from her fountain were collected and taken away at least once a day.

She allowed herself to float across the surface of her fountain, eyes open, staring blankly at the `sky'. She was sealed in an invisible cage, the bars created to look like the wonderful pale violet of the Kumosei sky. The water of her fountain was a nearly transparent white and the soft grass a lovely shade of blue. It was here; in isolation she realized that she was truly Kumosei's child. Her features mimicked her homeland. Skin as white as the oceans. Eyes, violet as the sky. Hair, the same pastel blue of the vegetation. She smiled. Perhaps Kumosei can live on through me. The smile quickly faded. Should Kumosei meet the same fate as the Saiyajin home world, its legacy would die with her. At least Bejiitasama can continue his bloodline. Impure as it will be, Bejiitasei can live on through the remaining Saiyajin. A phantom tear retraced the steps it had once traveled. She had already cried her eyes dry.

Five months had crept by since Bejiita was sent to some unfortunate planet in some corner of the galaxy. She was tragically aware of the purpose of his `missions'. He was a highly skilled murderer after all. Many of the planets that received a visit from a group of Furiizaa's men shared the same fate as Kumosei. Becoming Furiizaa's whore was the best option given actually. Like Kumosei, they would spread their thighs with tears in their eyes and allow their most precious treasures to be stolen. The other option was devastation. The inhabitants were simply wiped out by Furiizaa's elite teams. The planet was then sold to the highest bidder on the galactic auction block. The unlucky survivors were enslaved or discarded later. Bejiita was the head this particular elite team of killers. He had been trained from childhood to take no prisoners and destroy without remorse. He was a fast learner and used his lessons well. Abouri knew he took no pride in his duty, but he took no shame in it. He would take pride in his brand of devastation as opposed to the act itself. His pride in his power rivaled only that of his pride in his heritage. Transported across the cosmos for months on end. What kind of life is that for a child? For a man? The mission was scheduled to last ten months. Needless to say, she was rather displeased when he informed her. Especially since after two months, she had actually allowed him to touch her as well as kiss her.

He had pulled her against him in the night and she hadn't pushed him away. He was pretending to be asleep yet again. Usually his hand would roam in his feigned state of rest across the bedclothes to rest on her hip or on her leg. She would brush him away. He would not try again for the night. He did however try every night. She could not deny that she hadn't spent a night away from him since that first night when he'd demanded she share his bed. The idea had long lost its malice. Now she often found it difficult to sleep without his warm body and roaming hand. It was like a nocturnal ritual. He'd insisted that she stay in his chambers even when he was away, but once his scent was washed from the sheets, she opted for sleeping in her unfinished garden.

Flashback…

"Just what do you think you are doing?" She stiffened slightly as his arms encircled her from behind.

"Comforting you." She released a weary sigh.

"Bejiitasama, I am well aware that your brand of `comfort' is a blatant attempt to fondle me." She relaxed against the vibrations that his dark chuckle pulsed into her back. Her slight smile faded as his silence lasted for a few minutes than she had liked.

"Not this time Abouri." She turned in his arms and stared at him for a moment before turning her gaze away. He called her plainly by `miko' unless he was really serious about getting his point across. "I will be leaving in a week for a mission. I will be away for approximately ten months."

"Ten months." She whispered in monotone. He nodded and pressed her back against his chest. He waited a good hour for her to say something in protest, but he had to ultimately give in to sleep. She however was awake. As she was about to close her eyes, an image flashed before them. A sequence of events was unfolding before them.

Blood. The screams of a child. A boy. The child lay powerless on the ground, tears streaming down his face. No, not a child, an adolescent. He was broken and bleeding, barely alive. Do not disobey me again little prince.

She sighed and closed her eyes. She often stayed awake longer than he did for this express purpose. He showed her things in his sleep that he would never reveal in any waking state. He had no idea that he reached out and told her his secrets while he snored softly. The images stopped and she saw only the darkened room they shared. She smiled sadly. Perhaps I should look into his mind more often. I suppose I allowed him to distract me. Her smile faded to a light frown. Ten months… if you can survive here, with him, after all you've been through, then so shall I. He was right, I cannot protect myself as you could not then. She snuggled back into his embrace as it tightened. But I will be strong. I will be strong for you.

End Flashback…

Her eyes slipped closed and she inhaled before allowing herself to slip beneath the water's surface. Suspended and isolated, she could sort out her thoughts. Being a telepath of her magnitude was distracting to say the least.

Bejiitasama, how do you do it? How do you live day after day with the intergalactic pirate and serve him faithfully after what he's done? Where can I find that level of personal control? Every time he touches me I-

She opened her eyes, watching the distortion of light play on the surface above her. Bejiita had no idea she knew exactly what stemmed his murderous hatred of Furizaa. She had no intention of ever telling him either. Half and hour slinked away before she saw a distorted dark form gazing into the water. Naturally, it was Radditsu, her `escort'. She rolled her eyes before allowing herself to resurface.

"Good evening." She smiled brightly, levitating above the water and touching down on its surface. Radditsu fought to keep his mouth closed as he beheld the wet miko before him. Her hair was loose, which was a rarity. It clung to her form, a flattering shade darker when wet. Her white dress that fell to her mid thighs clung to her, basically showing him everything that his prince sought to hide. She wore no other undergarments besides a small pair of white panties. He could even see a hint of the blue locks that her clothing was meant to conceal. He quickly turned his back. "Mikosama, I'm here to-"

"I have no appetite today Radditsu. Forgive me, but I would rather decline."

"I'm afraid I have to insist. Bejiitasama would never forgive me if you got sick under my care." She sighed and began to walk towards him, leaving a trail of ripples in her wake.

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Bejiita lowered his hand and glanced down at the smoking crater for any signs of life. Not that anything would survive his attack, but it was his practice to be thorough. From his vantage point, a good hundred feet off the ground, he scanned the surrounding area to look for another city. He spotted a mass of building that were still standing and sped towards it. The sooner they finished up here, the sooner he could return home.

Home.

It was a word he hadn't used since he discovered his planet was no more. He hated to admit it, but `home' was home because she was there. He turned the word over in his mind, wondering what it truly meant to him. Nothing at all.

He touched down somewhere on the streets of the city. The people who were pointing at him from his airborne position now formed a quivering circle around him. They feared the alien invader, but they had no idea what to do. He raised a glowing palm towards the crowd on his left. A small ball of light formed there. His audience gasped and started to break apart running in all directions. He smirked wickedly and started shooting off ki blasts in all directions, one after the other, taking out nearly the entire crowd, until something caught his eye. He walked up to a building with a large window. In the window stood a woman, wearing a deep blue dress. Without thinking, he broke the window with his fingers and gingerly took the dress from the doll that wore it. He slung it over his shoulder and turned to take to the air. He got four feet off when he suddenly turned and took the shoes and jewelry from the doll as well. As he did so he looked further in to the building and something else caught his eye. A sheer white gown.

What the hell am I doing?! You're pillaging gifts for her, that's what. He froze and looked at growing pile of items in his arms and on the floor. He'd figured from the beginning he'd have to give her something to compensate for his absence. Something to make her take him back after the long months without… Hey! Take me back? Stop these asinine thoughts this instant! He growled at his foolish thoughts, cursing himself as he placed the items into an available box and took off in the direction of his space pod. He'd hide his stash in there and take them back undetected. When he was done, he returned to the city and obliterated it.

He sat at the edge of a lake that night. Nappa had found him just after he finished with the city and they decided to hunt down a meal. A female with orange skin and yellow hair. A sparkling jewel on her hand gave her away as she hid. Bejiita, in front of her before she could react, grabbed her arm. With his other, he backhanded her, separating her head from the rest of her. He hadn't noticed that though. His attention was focused on the jeweled ring on her finger. He was sure to take it before he took the corpse to the camp. When he arrived, he informed Nappa that he'd already eaten. It was a lie, but the look on Nappa's face meant he wanted to talk.

"Oujisama, about the woman…"

"What about her Nappa?" Bejiita hissed through clenched teeth. This had better be good.

"I don't trust her. Many strong men have been taken down by a beautiful, treacherous, woman. The only way the weak can win is with tricks."

"You question my judgment?" Silence. "I see. You think I'm stupid enough to let some sneaky little bitch take me down like that then?" No reply. "Well, let me tell you something you fool. She is Arashino miko. That title should mean just as much to you as a Saiyajin as my own does. She was to be head of my council and sit by my side in the royal court. If you ever insult her again, you will suffer. Do you understand?" Bejiita's bellows carried far into the night. He was too mad to realize he was broadcasting his business to everyone within range of his voice.

"I understand Oujisama."

"Not very convincing Nappa." Nappa said nothing but looked for his prince to say more. Bejiita released a sigh of aggravation. "You don't have to worry about me because of her. She's not sneaky and she's not a bitch." She sure is good at being one when she's ready… "She's not even a woman." He looked to the starry sky as he said this. If she were a simple woman, she wouldn't be… alive. I hope… OK, now you're being childish. She's fine.

Nappa looked totally confused for a moment, then understanding graced his face. "So you dress him up? You don't have to worry Oujisama, you're stronger than most men on that ship now. Besides, Radditsu and I will serve you no matter what." Bejiita felt his eye twitch and a vein popped out on his forehead.

"Idiot! Is there nothing but shit in that ugly, bald head of yours!? She's a miko! They are held above mere women. She's untouchable. How can she trick me by spreading her legs when she is incapable? That's what I'm trying to tell you! I can't fucking touch her!" Nappa blinked twice. Bejiita immediately bit his tongue. He'd said too much and had shouted it from the proverbial mountaintops as well. "Breath a word of this conversation, and it's your dick and a meat grinder. Got that?" he hissed.

"I will tell no one." Nappa paused. "If Oujisama trusts her, then so will I, but forgive me for keeping an eye open in her direction."

"Whatever." Bejiita crossed his arms and stormed off. He wasn't sure where he was going, but it was far from Nappa and the humiliating slip of the tongue. He stopped walking and suddenly took to the air. He flew, ignoring where he was going, until he came to a small clearing in an otherwise dense canopy of vegetation. There he landed and dropped himself unceremoniously into a crossed legged sitting position. He fumed, mentally badgering himself for actually voicing his sexual frustrations. Fortunately, he doubted Nappa caught on to what he'd said. With a weary sigh, he eased his torso backward to lay on the soft grass, stretching his legs out. He would prefer his bed, although the lack of such never caused him loss of sleep before. It had been two weeks that he'd been on this wretched rock and every night he longed for the feel of his bedclothes gliding under his hand as he reached for his miko. She'd thwart him nearly every night, but he knew gentle persistence paid off in the end. Some nights she'd allow him to rest his palm on her hip over the sheets. A few nights he'd gotten in a quick feel before she brushed him away. The night he finally decided to tell her of his current mission, she'd allowed him to pull her to him, much to his pleasure. Her reaction was unexpected, but then again, his miko was good for throwing him a curve. When he'd called her by name, her expression had caused a wave of emotion to wash over him, causing him to forget that he was supposed to be doing with his hands while he could. He recognized it as guilt. Guilt was something that he didn't particularly care for and seldom felt. Correction, never felt. He didn't need to think back on the planets he'd purged, the genocide he's carried out countless times to know he felt not an ounce of remorse for the loss of life. They were weak and he was strong. The strong consume the weak to become stronger. That was life. However, the guilt he felt when her eyes met his and when she turned away, the lack of feeling in the voice she replied with… he hated it. Why do I care so much? It's my fucking job! She knows exactly what I do. He scowled and closed his eyes. And she accepts you. She respects the prince without a planet to rule. She accepts the intergalactic assassin that enjoys his job. She allows you to touch her when no man should and trusts you not to take advantage. He opened his eyes, staring up at nothing in particular. She trusts me. What the fuck for? I'm no better than the rest of those horny bastards on that ship. He shook his head as though shaking the thought off as well. Don't think about that. She's safe. Furizaa won't allow anyone to touch her. He won't bother her much either. He continued this mantra until he fell asleep.

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"Bejiita, don't you think you've slept long enough?" Bejiita scowled at the tall white haired, brown skinned soldier standing over him as he sat up. He hadn't meant to fall asleep. He should have known they would be in search of him if he hadn't shown up by morning.

"Maybe he came out here so he can enjoy a wet dream about the woman in peace," a purple man with large ears said, throwing back his head to laugh. "It's OK. We all jerk off thinking about fucking her." A cruel smile stretched across his face. Bejiita didn't need to hear what came next. He knew exactly what the other men had been saying about him and his miko. One would have to be a fool not to notice that she never once stayed in her own room overnight. He was sure they all knew about her `chastity' issue by now as well. "That's all you can do isn't it? Look at her and yank your own-" Bejiita's fist silenced him, before he had a chance to react. This guy may have been an elite along with Bejiita, but Bejiita was leading this team for more reasons than his cunning alone. He was the fastest there.

"Take a quick sweep of the area, all of you. Just make sure there are no cities intact. The cleanup crew will round up the survivors. I think we're finished here." With that Bejiita gave them a sharp glare and headed in the direction of the pods.