Day Four: Evening

[Raditzu]

"Ahem." The voice seemed to pound throughout Rad's barely conscious mind. "AHEM!" Someone very obviously wanted his attention.

The saiyan didn't move. He didn't open his eyes. He barely even took in air. The left side of his face throbbed in the after-math of his opponent's bitch slap. Though it was not truly that injury that kept him on the ground. Kami had done far more than strike him physically. Though the Namekian was probably unaware of it, his blow had reverberated through the very core of what Raditzu considered himself to be. It was a wound that wasn't like to heal quickly.

"Mr. Raditzu!" it was the woman that had been calling him to the interview. The saiyan had tolerated her request earlier, but it sounded as though she was about to wear out her welcome. "It is time to go... now!"

It was with a long sigh that Raditzu began the process of picking himself up. The hole in his stomach, which had recently slowed in bleeding, had been torn back open either by a stray machine gun round from Yamu or from his fall down the cliff. The other shots he had taken from the Ki Machine Gun seemed to had been mostly cauterized by the rounds that had caused them, but that didn't keep Rad from feeling the intense pain from the new injury.

Despite these injuries, Rad managed to pull himself to his feet in fairly short order. The woman stood, glaring at him, tapping her pen against a clip-board she seemed to have found. The saiyan warrior drew himself up to his full height and took several deep breathes before the woman spoke again.

"Now, are you ready?"

"Yeah," Rad said after dusting himself off. "I'm ready."

With a sudden jolt of movement, Rad raised his arm and pointed an open had at the demanding figment of his hallucinations. The darkening sky lit up for the briefest of moments as a bolt of ki lept from Rad's hand. The blast sailed through the woman, since she wasn't actually there, but she quickly faded from his sight nonetheless.

For a moment, Raditzu was alone. Without a distraction, however, his thoughts drifted back to the scene he had witnessed before Kami had, quite literally, slapped some sense into him. All those people. People he knew, people he cared about, people he would give his life for... all of them mocking him. Jeering, laughing, pointing: their verbal assault seemed unrelenting and it struck him in ways that no physical blow ever could. This train of self-destructive thought, however, was quickly knocked off track by another invading voice.

"Good lord... you look like a mess," came the voice from behind him.

Raditzu didn't need to turn around to know who it was. The voice was unmistakable to him. When he finally did face the speaker he felt as though he could cry. There were very few people Raditzu wanted to see right then, and she was definitely not one of them. His response reflected that.

"I didn't think I'd see you here..."