Day One: Evening

[Bra]

Bra sighed heavily, sitting on a cracked, grey stone which would serve as her chair. With her head in her hands, the girl dismally recounted the grisly events. Shouting, fighting, shooting, dying. It had all happened at once, and so quickly. The princess had taken the life of a man she?d never met; murdered him. He?d attacked her first, true, but without a second thought, she?d pulled the trigger and sent a searing stream of liquid flame over his face, consuming him in hellfire and casting his soul off the mortal coil.

Gohan died, and the newcomer had been viciously struck down from behind by what should have been a noble warrior. Super Buu had no need to kill her or maul her so; she posed no threat to himself.

Gohan was dead. Bra sighed once again. She thought to seek out Bardock and offer a few words of comfort, but decided against it. He would find emotional release through anger, through the thrill of the hunt. The hybrid?s presence would only serve to further anger him.

Raditzu and Eighteen appeared occupied with one another, so, finally, the cyan haired girl resolved to go check up on Yamu. Her steps were soft, hesitant. She approached silently, and offered the weakest of greetings.

?Hey, Yamu.? she said, wincing at the look of confusion he offered her. Instead of explaining it for the umpteenth time, the girl simply watched as he got up and approached her.

?If you want them, my fists are yours in this fight. I ask you for one thing... help my friend... there has to be some kind of medical thing on this damn island. If not... we?ll go on our way... but now I need...? the vein-riddled warrior fell forward, directly for the fire. Bra lunged out, grasping his upper arm and hauling him - hard- onto the grass beside it, keeping him from the grasp of the flame. Yamu passed out upon striking the soft, dewy grass.

The princess knelt down next to him, her eyes running over his numerous cuts and scars which had mangled his body over the years. Bra watched as her breath came out in small puffs of steam now; it was growing colder.

?Yamu...? she simply shook her head, returning to her feet and catching sight of a dark haired woman whom she didn?t recognize. Instead of approaching her, however, Bra found herself moving to Hasky, watching her as she trembled in pain.

What a horrible thing to do. Killing someone was one thing, but leaving them as good as dead and forcing them through suffering... Bra growled. She didn?t know the blonde girl, but she was obviously important to Yamu. She would make sure he claimed proper retribution for such a hideous act.

?...We?ll try.? the cyan haired fighter promised, heading off into the thick of the jungle. She made sure to keep the fire in sight, and only wandered as far as she could without losing the flickering lights before she finally let her built up anger manifest itself as two enormous spheres of energy. Throwing her hands together, she screamed as an enormous rush of energy lanced outward, obliterating everything in it?s path and cutting a deep runnel through the earth beneath it. When Bra?s final flash attack faded, an enormous, charred scar marked the landscape as birds and other wildlife shrieked and yelped at the thunderous explosion.

The heiress leapt into her artificially formed chasm and lied down against it?s slope, unwilling to go back to the group, knowing they would want to know why she?d just done what she did, with their accusing eyes and their ignorant questions. Just being angry was never good enough anymore.

Her own mother was dead. Gohan, her friend, was dead. Did she not have the right to be enraged? Who would be next? Her father? Her brother? Bra dug her nails into the dirt; nobody would touch her family. The princess would find out who murdered her mother and place his head on a pike.

The girl?s resolve, however, failed her intentions, and she began to weep. She didn?t want to, but in many ways, she was still just a little girl. Bra didn?t even have a chance to wish her mom good luck, or to even have a decent conversation. Now she was dead, probably in a field somewhere, bleeding out into the grass without a proper burial of any kind.

A gloved fist pounded into the dirt, tearing a deep hole through the scorched terrain. Why was she so weak? Could she never hide her emotions? Her body shuddered under her own sobbing, and she sank deeper into the ravine. Knowing she would fall asleep here if she didn?t force herself up, she wiped her eyes of her tears and trudged back to the campsite, luckily slipping past everyone?s sight, save Bardock, who wished not to speak anyway.

Bra knelt down on the grass before lying down on her chest, resting her chin on her hands and watching the dancing flames. Once again, all she saw were flames of destruction. Flames of hurt, despair, death. They were the only kind of flames these people were capable of.

Had she become so horrible? She was a warrior, but she hadn?t hardened like the others, had she? No, they had become cold, blunt. Unfeeling. She could never be those things, she promised herself. She would not become her father. She would not become numb to the deaths of those around her.

The princess grimaced. What would happen if she stumbled across her father? He and Raditzu would no doubt refuse any logic or reason and try to slaughter one another. Which side would she take? Vegeta, her father, who had neglected her for nearly her entire life and only recently had strived to make things right, or Raditzu, an arrogant monster who had somehow become her friend?

Too many questions, too few answers. It was always that way. While Bra pondered her newfound quandaries, she found the flames growing dull, and soft. Soon, she fell asleep, leaving her problems behind for one more night.