And it's burning in our fingers and it's burning on the road
And I like the way you're broken and I'll like you when you're old
And I meet you in the garden and I feel you plant the seed
I want you to come walk this world with me

*****

Bulma's Journal, 297 days after Cell:

The experiment seems to be a success. Piccolo revived himself, and he's in perfect health--I guess. I'm certainly not a specialist in Namekian physiology; however, he seems to be his usual gruff, 'lone-wolf' self. --Well, not quite so much of a loner. But then, I'm not quite so afraid of him as I used to be. In fact, I'm finding I'm not really afraid of him at all any more. Respect his power? Certainly. Recognize his prowess as a fighter? Well, naturally! Yet, I remember how nervious I was around him when I was a girl, and even later, after he became an uneasy ally. That nervousness is gone now, I think in part due to the fact that we ARE from 'the old days', before Gero ruined not just our lives but the whole world's. What WAS that man thinking? I still can't imagine the depth of hatred and contempt he must've felt for your group in general and Gokou in particular to create such terrible weapons of war out of good people like Juu-chan.

*****

Oddly enough, Piccolo fit right in. He spent most of the daylight hours outside, wandering, meditating, but he would often come back at night to discuss what he'd seen, keeping them abreast of happenings from distant places that the news media no longer reached. His observations, though tart, were honest and insightful, and valuable for that very reason.

Maybe it was the fact they'd been alive together through so much, but he and Bulma grew a little closer each day. Although he didn't know much about the purely scientific side of cloning and regeneration, Piccolo had a great deal of practical firsthand knowledge. Some afternoons he and Bulma would be closeted together in the lab for hours, discussing the progress of the clone bodies and the next step in their cultivation or simply reliving years past. The... friendship?... seemed to do his mother good; some of the darkness Trunks had always seen in her eyes, hide it though she might from anyone else, lifted in the days after Piccolo's resurrection.

Of course, Trunks had known a Piccolo before, in that other world-time, but this one seemed subtly different. Perhaps a bit more open, though certainly no less brusque. It made him wonder what differences he might find, or imagine, in the other warriors.

Most of all, he wondered about his father.

Vegeta hadn't accepted him very well at first, but after their training together in the Room of Spirit and Time, the Saiyajin prince had held a measure of respect and regard for him. Trunks hadn't been sure exactly to what degree, but there had been some bond between them. Would he and his true father have that, or would they be strangers to one another?

As for Juuhachi-gou, she too seemed to be fitting in, or at least trying to find a niche. She didn't seem to mind being asked to help with manual labor. She was always willing to help whenever asked; she would carry a line to a dizzying height or transport a burden many times her size without effort or complaint. If the cyborg wasn't exactly radiantly happy, she certainly didn't appear as troubled as she had when she'd first arrived. She sparred daily with Trunks, an activity they both enjoyed. Bulma caught Piccolo watching them at times, and she wondered if he expected Juuhachi-gou to suddenly turn "bad" again. Bulma herself was confident that no such thing was going to happen. Just as she wondered now why she was once so nervous around Piccolo, it was becoming difficult to remember ever having been afraid of Juuhachi-gou.

Until one day in town when the past caught up with the cyborg.

They were loading packages from Hope's market into the back of the skycar when a rock sailed out of nowhere and struck Juuhachi-gou hard on the back of her head. It might have killed an ordinary human; as it was, she lost her balance and dropped the boxes she carried. She snapped into a stance and turned around ready to defend herself.

A young woman, possibly in her early twenties, stood in the roadway. A crowd was gathering behind her, looking on with sudden interest. The woman pointed at Juuhachi-gou and screamed one word: "Jinzouningen!!!"

A ripple of curiosity spread through the crowd. "Jinzouningen?" "But weren't they destroyed?" "Impossible...!"

"Uh-oh," Bulma murmured, reaching behind the driver's seat for her Uzi.

The woman stepped forward, fists clenching. "You killed my father," she spat. "I saw it on television. He was trying to fight you, and you cut him down like he was nothing!"

Juuhachi-gou's expression became a seamless, placid mask. Only her eyes betrayed her, deep and hollow and despairing. Not again...

"I'll never forget that face." The girl swiped back a wild lock of dark hair and took another step forward. "I've seen it in my nightmares ever since I was ten years old."

"I'm...sorry." Juuhachi-gou lowered her hands and stood up straight, lowering her guard. She regarded the girl with an expression of sincere regret. Her voice was quiet, oddly gentle. "I really am. I wasn't--"

"Kono ama! Uso yo!!" The woman scooped up another rock and threw it in a smooth motion straight at Juuhachi-gou's face.

The cyborg's hand shot up in front of her face, caught the rock effortlessly and immediately dropped it to the ground. "Listen, I'm not going to fight you. Please..."

"I'll make you fight me!" the woman screamed, charging at her. Juuhachi-gou made no effort to dodge and was swiftly borne down to the ground.

"Stop it!!" Bulma rushed in and tried to grab hold of the flailing fists that punched Juuhachi-gou repeatedly in the face and chest. She ended up taking a few glancing blows herself for her trouble. "Trunks! Help!"

Almost immediately a figure flew out of a nearby supply shop and streaked towards the scuffle. Strong hands plucked the woman off of Juuhachi-gou and held her up, kicking and cursing, in midair.

Bulma helped Juuhachi-gou to her feet--not that she needed it. The cyborg was somewhat disheveled but not the least bit hurt.

"What do I do with this?" Trunks asked, looking a bit nervous about holding a strange, struggling female so close against himself.

"Just keep her from trying to kill Juu!" Bulma barked at him.

"She can't hurt me," Juuhachi-gou pointed out sensibly, but her eyes were sad.

"Juu, hush!--Um...Sorry about that, everyone!" Bulma said in a voice laden with false brightness. "Nothing to be worried about, heh!"

A grizzled middle-aged man nodded at Juuhachi-gou. "So...she's not one of the Jinzouningen who destroyed our world?"

A lighthearted denial sprang to Bulma's mind, but what came out of her mouth was, "Well...yes."

Trunks was so shocked he almost dropped the girl. "Nanda?!?!?"

"There's no point in lying about it." Bulma surveyed the stunned crowd. "Look, you all know me, you know my son Trunks. We don't have any reason to lie to you, and we're certainly not doing it now. Juuhachi-gou and her brother, Juunana-gou, were normal humans once. They were taken captive by Dr. Gero and made into evil cyborgs. He wanted to use them to take over the world, but something went horribly wrong."

Trunks sensed the edge of panic rising in the crowd and took firm hold of the girl, who was too busy listening to fight him much at the moment. Mom, I hope you know what you're doing. And if not, I hope we can get our things and leave Capsule Corporation in a BIG hurry...

"Juuhachi-gou is free of Dr. Gero's control now." Bulma put a hand on one narrow shoulder. "She's lived peacefully with us for months."

"How do we know she won't start killing people again?" a voice from the back demanded. The crowd murmured restless agreement.

Juuhachi-gou spoke for herself this time. "Because I don't want to. I don't think I ever really did; it was the programming Gero put me through that made me--made me do those horrible things. It's gone now. I just want to live an ordinary life. That's all."

"Juuhachi-gou was one of the first victims of Dr. Gero's evil." Bulma looked at each of the bystanders in turn. "Like the rest of us, she barely survived."

"It's a lie!" the woman who'd attacked screamed, fighting uselessly to free herself. "She's just waiting till our guard's down, and then she'll kill us all!"

"No, I won't!" Juuhachi-gou responded hotly. "I know you don't believe me, and I can't prove a negative. All I can tell you is that if I wanted to kill you, I wouldn't have been just lying there letting you beat on me. I hate what was done to me and I hate what it made me do. I can't make up for it. I wouldn't know where to start. I just want to live my life and do what I can to help put things right."

"She's right about one thing," the elder said. "If she wanted us dead, we would be. I suppose that means she's telling the truth about not wanting to kill anyone. And your word's been trustworthy before, Bulma-san."

The tense silence hovering in the thick, hot air like a dust cloud began to shift a bit as the crowd murmured among itself : "Trust her?" "Bulma's never done anything but help--" "Yeah, but if that's one of those artifical humans, you know how strong they are--" "Can we risk it?" "Hey, you wanna fight her?"

Juuhachi-gou looked upwards at the woman, who was still straining against Trunks' careful but unyielding hold on her. "Let her go," she said to Trunks in a tone of weary resignation. "Let her attack me if she wants to. Maybe it will help her somehow. God knows there's nothing else I can do for her."

Trunks lowered to the ground and took his hands away. The woman immediately charged forward and used her momentum to slam Juuhachi-gou against the side of the skycar. Bulma flinched, but didn't interfere.

The woman fisted her hand in the front of Juuhachi-gou's black sweater and drew back a fist. Juuhachi-gou just looked at her, a terrible sadness plain in her pale, tilted eyes.

The dark-haired woman was weeping with rage. Trunks understood, and he wanted to tell her so, but he remained silent. Yes, he'd once hated Juuhachi-gou as much as that--as a 13-year-old boy, kneeling in the rain amidst the ruins of the capitol city, cradling Gohan's blasted, lifeless body--but things were different now. How could he explain something like that? He looked again at Juuhachi-gou's face, and he couldn't be certain, but he thought she understood too.

Finally the woman released Juuhachi-gou and stepped back, trembling. "I'll find a way to destroy you, I swear it." She spun on her heel and pushed her way through the crowd and was gone.

Juuhachi-gou watched her walk away with no readable expression. Then she turned around and got in the back of the skycar without a word to Bulma or Trunks. The crowd slowly dispersed, and mother and son climbed into the front seat and drove away. The ride home was silent, because there was nothing to say, really. Juuhachi-gou sat between them, her head bowed, not moving or speaking. Trunks stole glances at her perfect profile from time to time; he wanted to say something, but he couldn't find any words that would offer much comfort. It was just a reaction she would have to expect from time to time.

As they drew up to the front door, Piccolo darted down the stairs like a green streak, cape flying out behind him, expression thunderous. "About damn time," he growled. "Something's happening."

"In the lab?" Bulma asked, eyes widening with alarm.

"On the TV. News broadcast. Special bulletin, just came on. Hurry."

"...repeat myself," the news announcer was saying as they all walked into the main living area. "Reports from the area are sporadic and unsubstantiated, but there has been some sort of assault on the community of Seabreeze, some 150 miles down the coast, earlier this morning. What information we have seems to indicate a single person is responsible for--" he stopped as someone from off-camera shoved a piece of paper at him. "Ah, we have an update from the Seabreeze area."

The screen cut to a fuzzily-photographed home video, the maker of which was obviously in a hurry but trying to make the footage as good as possible; after a moment's initial blurriness and shaking, it steadied and focused on a shape that was streaking across the sky. As it grew nearer, its human proportions could be made out, along with a shock of dark hair that the wind of its--his--passage blew back away from a pale face.

As if seeing the cameraman now, the figure swerved in mid-flight and passed right over, giving the photographer one good, if hasty, closeup opportunity.

Bulma gasped.

Trunks cursed.

Piccolo grunted. "Thought so."

The only one silent was Juuhachi-gou, but her china-blue eyes widened, and she put out a hand to steady herself, shaking her head as if dizzied by something.

The lack of clarity in the video couldn't hide the attacker's identity.

It was Juunana-gou.

"Dammit!" Trunks whirled, headed for the door, ignoring the rest of the broadcast. Only Piccolo's outstretched arm stopped him. "What are you doing? If we move now we can--"

"We can get there in about enough time to declare the place a disaster area," Piccolo grunted back. "Get your brain in gear, hot shot. This all took place this morning, and 150 miles is still not a walk around the block, even flying as fast as we can. If that cyborg had any smarts, he'd be long gone."

"Piccolo-san's right," Bulma agreed, twisting to look back at them. "Oi, Juu-chan? Are you all right?"

"Ha-hai." The slender young woman drew herself up. "I agree with Piccolo. It makes sense to hit fast, do as much damage as you can, then run. But we should still go there, if only to make sure. He might have left a clue as to his next destination."

"Okay. You two take off. You ought to be able to handle him between you. I'll stick close here and see what else they've got to say." As he spoke, Piccolo cut his eyes to the left, tipping his head slightly that way too, silently indicating Bulma. Trunks nodded once, understanding the unspoken addition: Somebody's gotta keep an eye on the lab and your Mom.

As they flew out, Trunks looked at Juuhachi-gou. "Are you all right?"

"Don't ask stupid questions," the Jinzouningen snapped, then looked away. "No.... sorry. I feel... disoriented. Something about seeing--" she stopped, shook her head again. "Let's not talk about him. Let's just stop him."

"Hai." Trunks put on an extra burst of speed.

When they got to Seabreeze, Trunks halted mid-air, Juuhachi-gou beside him, and stared down. It looked as if a major earthquake had hit it, combined with several tornadoes and at least one tsunami. Slowly he shook his head. "Masaka...."

"He did this?" Juuhachi-gou whispered, drifting closer. "I can't..." she trailed off, eyes hooded.

"Believe it. You've seen this handiwork before, remember?"

"I remember, but...somehow it didn't seem so real before. The other cities have always been like they were, but now..." Juuhachi-gou studied the wrecked town below for a long moment. "Trunks..."

"Hai?"

"I think... I'm finally starting to understand why this hits you and your mother so hard." Juuhachi-gou nodded down at the rubble below. "This wasn't necessary, was it. These people were no threat to Juunana-gou. He... just wanted to do it, that's all."

"Sou da. That's right."

For a long time the female jinzouningen was quiet. Finally she said, "Let's find him now." She looked up at Trunks solemnly. "But when we do... can you give me a minute to talk to him?"

"Nanda?!"

"I want to try and make him understand. Trunks...he's my brother. My twin brother."

Trunks' eyes went wide. "Su--sugoi!!"

"Even if he won't listen...and he probably won't...I want to ask him why. Why he wanted to destroy everything that meant something to these people. Why both of us did what we did." Juuhachi-gou folded her arms around herself. "So that I can understand, maybe... and be sure I won't feel like that again."

Trunks looked out over the ocean, the wind kicking up locks of his violet hair.

"It's possible that he may just be operating on automatics--like I was, when I first revived." Juuhachi-gou's tone was almost pleading now, begging for understanding. "He was always more...violent than I was, wasn't he? If there's any chance to reason with him..."

Trunks looked at her, his eyes cold and steady. "You'll get your chance to talk. One chance. If he doesn't listen, he's dead. We can't afford to play around; he's too dangerous."

"Hn. " Juuhachi-gou nodded once, more in acknowledgment than agreement. "Come on. We have a long hunt ahead of us."

They spiraled out in a search pattern, looking for any sign of Juunana-gou's passage. There was virtually nothing to go on; the ruined village behind them, the wide expanse of coast and sea around them, yielded no clues. At last, just as Trunks was ready to call it quits, he spied something ahead of them: a flash of motion near the ground, no more. He held up a hand, and Juuhachi-gou slowed, turning as he indicated the area. "See anything? Feel anything?" he asked.

She narrowed her eyes, scanning the area Trunks had pointed out, instinctively bringing the magnification and motion sensitivity of her artificial eyes up to max. A form blurred through the woods, obviously trying to avoid being seen, but she got a fix on it immediately. "Trunks. Someone's down there."

Trunks looked in the direction she was pointing just in time to see a form explode from cover and rocket straight up at him. He twisted aside barely in time to avoid a punch aimed at his head with enough force to rip it off.

The figure arced in mid-air and paused, smirking down at him, and Trunks felt the old familiar rage rise up in him. "Juunana-gou," he snarled, one hand reaching back to draw his sword.

"Juunana-gou," echoed Juuhachi-gou, moving a bit nearer. "It's me--it's your...your sister. Juuhachi-gou. Don't you know me?"

Juunana-gou looked at her with the same mocking expression, then turned his attention back to Trunks.

"Juunana-gou, listen to me," Juuhachi-gou tried again. "We need to talk--" she broke off as the other jinzouningen raised a hand and fired a ki blast at Trunks, who dipped under it, then flew at his attacker. "Chikusho! Trunks! Matte yo!"

"Can't you see he doesn't have any interest in talking?!" Trunks yelled, blade swinging and cutting the air over Juunana-gou's head as the cyborg ducked, one fist lashing back. Trunks blocked and slashed again. Juunana-gou moved, but not quite quick enough; the sword drew an arc across his chest that rapidly turned red. For a moment the artificial human glanced down at the cut, then focused his attentions once more on Trunks, completely ignoring Juuhachi-gou.

With a hiss of irritation Juuhachi-gou dove at her twin, grabbed him from behind in a full nelson. "Bakamono! I'll make you listen to me! We don't have to kill humans anymore! We never really did! We hated Gero for what he did to us, and we hated ordinary humans because we could never be like them again. Well, Gero's dead--we killed him--and he'll never control us again. We can live like normal people. I've been doing it for months. Stop fighting! Trunks isn't our enemy anymore. Will you just this once listen to me?! Yamero!!!"

Juunana-gou refused to answer--at least verbally. His muscles flexed as he tried to power his way out of Juuhachi-gou's grip, gaze remaining on Trunks, as if she were no more than a moment's distraction, not worth his consideration.

"Juu, let go of him!" Trunks roared, backing away a bit and circling as the two struggled, trying to find a place to strike at Juunana-gou without hitting Juuhachi-gou.

"Not--before--he answers me--" she panted stubbornly, locking down a little tighter. Suddenly Juunana-gou ceased struggling, then flipped over so his back was towards the ground and dove at full speed. Juuhachi-gou tried to stop him, but his momentum was just a little too much to overcome; they hit hard, with her taking the brunt of the fall and the force of another body slamming into hers. Juunana-gou wrenched himself out of her arms, immediately snapped his hands forward and fired another blast at Trunks.

Trunks answered with a power dive of his own and a scream that seemed too loud and long for any one set of vocal chords to form. Gold fire blazed up through his hair and spiked it out as he shifted to Super-Saiyajin, the power singing in him as he levelled out only a few feet above the ground and shot past Juunana-gou's side in a blur of motion.

The male Jinzouningen sneered at him, then paused, face going blank. Slowly the top half and the bottom half of Juunana-gou's body fell in different directions, sliced by a sword strike too fast to be seen or felt. Now it was Trunks' turn to smirk as he sheathed his sword and landed, his hair returning to its normal shade and flattening again.

"Chikusho!!! " Juuhachi-gou screamed at him. "Did you have to kill him?! "

"There wasn't any point in talking to him," Trunks growled. "He wasn't listening."

"Maybe I could've made him listen, if you'd waited a minute!"

"And maybe you'd rather he'd blown a smoking hole through me, like you did to Gohan?!" Trunks bit it off, but not before the briefest moment of pain came and went in his companion's eyes. "Juuhachi-gou..."

"No. You're right. He was certainly trying to do that, wasn't he?" Standing, Juuhachi-gou kicked Juunana-gou's top half over to face the sky. "Well, we might as well finish the job, now that we've begun."

"You mean he's not dead?"

"Not until you destroy the head. That's where his nucleus--the main regeneration module is housed. Same as with me. As long as even a fragment of the head remains intact, there's a possibility he can come back to bother us again." She raised a hand, energy starting to gather around the slender fingers.

"Juu, I can--"

"No." Juuhachi-gou looked straight at Trunks, pale eyes blazing. "Don't try to spare my feelings. I'm not supposed to have any, remember?" Without taking her gaze from Trunks, she fired, blowing first one half of her fallen twin, then the other, into black shimmering dust. "There," she said flatly. "That should take care of things." Turning, she rose up into the air. "Let's go."

Trunks followed her. For some while they flew in silence; then ,finally, Trunks accelerated and drew up beside her in the air. "Juuhachi-gou...I'm sorr--"

"Leave me alone!" She put on a burst of speed and took off away from him. He followed her. Within minutes she touched down on top of a mesa. By the time he reached her, she was on her knees, hunched over, her head in her hands.

"Juuhachi-gou? " he said, landing beside her. "Doush'tano? What's the matter?"

Her breath came in short, shuddering gasps. "Yamero...make it stop..."

"Nani?"

Slowly, painfully, she looked up at him. Her eyes were dry; she was beyond tears. "O..omoidatta..."

"What?!" He gasped. "What do you remember?"

"Zettai...omoidatta." She shut her eyes tight and hunched over, wrapping her arms tight around herself. "I remember everything. Everywhere we struck, everything we did, everyone we killed, every scream, every cry for help, every plea for mercy, every face, every voice, all of them, all at once--oh, God, I can't stand it!!" Her hands fisted in her hair and pulled tight, as if she was about to yank it out of her scalp. "I can't--I can't..."

"Masaka..." Trunks knelt down in front of her and took her shoulders in his hands. "Juuhachi-gou--Juu-chan. Listen to me. Look at me!!!"

She opened her eyes and met his gaze, breathing in shuddering gulps of air.

Trunks drew in a long, cold breath. When he spoke, it was in a low, intense voice, but no less powerful for all that. "You're not the same anymore," he said. "The jinzouningen who helped destroy everything, the one who killed the other senshi, the one who killed Gohan and tried to kill me...she's gone. I killed her. You're not her. You're different now. Whatever evil programming Dr. Gero gave you has been wiped out. Maybe no one had ever been kind to you, before. Gero certainly wasn t. All he ever showed you was hate and bitterness. You're a different person now. You are a person now, not just a killing machine. You could never do those terrible things again. If you could, you wouldn't be feeling what you're feeling right now." Carefully he reached out and brushed back the cornsilk hair, looking intently into her eyes. "All my life, I was haunted by your eyes--because they didn't look human, because there was no good or compassion in them. That's changed. When I look at you now, I don't see a monster. I see...I see you."

Juuhachi-gou swallowed hard. "Ho...hontou ni?"

"It's the truth. I swear it." He reached out and gathered her into his arms. She fit herself agains his chest and sobbed quietly. As he pressed his cheek to the top of her head, he felt the hatred in his heart crumble to nothing, blown away like dust driven before the skirling wind. At that moment his mother's blood flowed stronger in his veins than his father's. Now, after everything that had happened, he was finally ready to find some forgiveness in his proud warrior's heart. Forgiveness for her...and maybe, a little, forgiveness for himself, too.

"Come on," he murmured against her soft, fragrant hair. "Kaerimashou. Let's go home."

Wordlessly Juuhachi-gou nodded. She let him take her hand and together they flew off towards Capsule Corporation...towards home.

Far above the mesa, unobserved, Piccolo watched them go, barely managing to keep a smirk off his face. "Ah, damn, it's good to be alive again," he said.

*****