Day One: Evening

[Super Buu]

?VIOLET!?

Thump. Thump. Thump.

?VIOLET!?

It had all happened so fast. Adrenaline shot through Buu?s body, forcing him onwards.

?My foot!? The desperate, frenzied cry carried out.

The pink warrior?s thick legs thudded against the ground and he leapt - his hand outstretched - grabbing onto the taloned leg of what he knew to be Violet. Gravity faded as he hung on for his life, gliding away from the battlefield. His body was numb, feeling nothing but cold adrenaline. It wasn?t the first battle he?d been in, but it was the first battle where he?d been fighting for someone other than himself. The charred corpse of Sixteen, the ripped-apart skull of Jackie, and Puar?s head, exploding into fragments of bone and blood ?

He wanted to feel remorse, but he couldn?t. All he could hear was his survival instinct. Get out. Save yourself. Run! For the moment, he felt nothing but shock. He wanted to question Violet?s hideous transformation, he wanted to ask what had fried his biomechanical friend. He wanted to know why his brother only had one leg, and he wanted to know why Seventeen?s stomach was bleeding. But none of that mattered right now.

?Get us out of here, Violet!? he ordered, painfully aware of the strain on his hand. Adrenaline sustained his grip for now, but it wouldn?t for long.

The white-tinted demon spoke no words, but her eyes said it all. They glided onwards, away from the field, over the trees. Then she whispered;

?Buu ? I can?t hold this much longer.?

The majin growled. ?Down.?

They landed abruptly, dashing through the trees and hitting the ground. The ?corpses? tumbled from Violet?s arms just as her wings began retracting into her back, and Super Buu?s knees thudded against the floor, causing him to grunt out in pain. That?s when they heard it. A sharp gasp, that of somebody hurting. Somebody alive.

?Seventeen?!? The now-reverted girl murmured, a rising note of panic in her tone, as she turned to the body. It was moving, writing. A pained grimace was on the cyborg?s face, his bloodied hands to the gash on his stomach. ?Buu!? Violet screamed. ?He?s still alive!?

The majin?s eyes moved over to his fallen leader, but not before glancing over him. Kid Buu. His brother, the only other puttalin being in existence. Dead.

?Kid ?? he whispered. The pain he felt now was worse than any hit he?d ever taken. He didn?t know what to think. For a while, he had had another, somebody else to call the same as him. But that was over now. He was the last one left.

?I?m not - hack! - dead yet ?? murmured the body.

?KID!? Super Buu gasped, feeling both elation and terror. Here was his brother, alive, but in imminent danger of dying. He ran towards the smaller being, and that?s when he felt it. A tug. But not from outside, from within. ?What is this ?? he stuttered, clutching his chest to no avail. It was his soul. As he fell to his knees, his hand splashed a nearby puddle, and that?s when he saw it. He looked down at his reflection, horrified. His nose, elongated and pointed like a human being?s. Hanging from the side of his head was his head-tentacle, thick and distended.

Then it hit him - how he?d been able to stand up to the super saiyan, how he?d been able to escape with his life. Without even realising it, he?d used Spiritken. Something had triggered inside of him, that force of purpose and cause. But his appearance ?

?Sometimes, with the Bio Armour, it can cause ?mutations? in certain species when they transform.?

With that memory, there was no doubt in his mind. As the pure flow of adrenaline had subsided, he had begun to feel the after-effects of the technique, as it tugged on his spirit. He gasped as he released the ability, features stretching as his nose shrank back, head tail squirming back upwards into his head.

All around, agonised screams were sounding from what remained of the group. Seventeen was trying to move, griping at the hole in his stomach, whereas Kid was screaming in agony, clutching at the stump that remained of his left leg. Violet was sobbing, in grief and panic, scrambling for something to stem the flow of blood from her alliance leader?s chest. ?BUU!? she screamed. ?DO SOMETHING!?

The hulking majin stumbled around, looking in a confused manner for something to tie the wounds of his allies. He could still feel the sharp pains in his back where Gohan had kicked him. That little traitor ? he remembered now. The very same saiyan he had tried to save the life of back on Vegeta-sei. Well, he's dead now. Serves him fucking right, thought Buu contemptuously.

?Buu!? sobbed Violet hoarsely, again, as she watched her friend, caught up in his own anger. ?I can?t do this alone, please ?!?

?WHAT, AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?!? the monster suddenly shouted, gripping his head in rage. ?Regenerate for them?! I don?t know anything ? fuck all about how humans heal wounds!? He stormed about in frustration, directing his own guilt at being unable to help at the nearest possible outlet - Violet.

?Just ? tear off some leaves,? pleaded the girl, her hands still trying to stem the blood from Seventeen?s wound. She didn?t even try to argue. Her only concern at the moment was keeping her friend?s alive. ?Do it, and I?ll do the rest.?

?Damn it,? the bass-like voice of Kid Buu rang out again. ?What?s going on out there??

?Seventeen?s badly hurt,? replied Violet, calling over with a trembling voice. ?How?s your leg??

?What?s left of it ?? spat the pint-sized majin. ?The blast seems to have cauterised the wound. It?s not bleeding too bad, but it hurts like fuck.?

?Super Buu! How are those leaves coming along??

?I?ve got it,? said the hulking monster, deciding that now was not the time to complain. He got on with his task as quickly as he could, ripping leaves from the branches of nearby trees. He thrust out a handful to Violet, dropping them next to her hesitantly. ?That enough??

?It?ll do.? The girl picked up the leaves and shoved them into her mouth, chewing with a frantic desperation. Once she deemed it ready she spat the paste out onto her hands. ?Here goes ??

She placed the gunk evenly around on Seventeen?s stomach, causing him to cry out in agony. His eyes were closed, face contorting and grimacing with every twitch of his muscles. But he bore it, clenching his teeth and gripping his fists. What the cyborg had dealt with today was not just physical, but mental. He wanted to reach out and tear somebody to shreds, but he couldn?t - his body wouldn?t let him. So instead he opened his mouth and screamed - frustration, anger and pain all mingled into one. Nobody tried to stop him. Sometimes it was best just to let it all out.

The group had survived. But at what cost?