Chapter Text
Marron's ki is … wrong.
He can feel it now. As a baby, her ki was always there, but it was a tiny colorless spark just like any other human. While she grew older, Krillin put aside the life of a martial artist to become a police officer, and he's rarely focused on his daughter's ki since. It's been years (thank Dende) since his baby girl was in danger.
But now he's stretched out his senses idly, and he can feel her just outside the house. One lone eight-year-old ki signature bobbing along happily as he hears her voice chattering and Juuhachigou-san's low, amused responses. It couldn't be anyone else but Marron.
And her ki is wrong.
No! Not wrong. Nothing about his daughter could ever be really wrong, just …
Tainted.
“Okay, okay,” he murmurs to himself from his place on the couch. He's been switched off the afternoon shift and is home early for once, hoping to surprise his family, but now all he can do is focus on the approaching voices and try not to feel the heavy sensation of dread in his stomach.
“Focus, Krillin, focus. You're probably panicking.” No surprise there. “Okay. Close your eyes. Concentrate.”
He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and relaxes as best he can. The voices are drawing closer, and the bright flare of ki is coming up the sidewalk towards the house.
Focus, Krillin, and be sure before you start a riot.
It's hard to describe a sense of someone's ki in words, but the visible auras give him a place to begin. Human ki is white, shining, occasionally tinged with blue. It's bright and pure and feels undiluted, but doesn't shine so bright as some others. Namekian ki feels whiter, without that tinge of blue, and thinner somehow. Still strong, but more evenly distributed.
Saiyan ki leans more blue. Heavier, thicker, brighter. If human ki is drinking coffee with cream, saiyan ki is eating used coffee grounds directly out of the filter: more of a buzz, but gritty and weird. Not the preferred choice. Super Saiyan ki is yellow and harsh, but also smoother across the senses, like the mind has given up processing what it's feeling and just letting the rush pass by. Like drinking a gallon of syrup, and just as bad for you.
Krillin hasn't tried to sense anything beyond a Super Saiyan, and would prefer not to. Life is hard enough without having your brain turned inside-out.
All right. Focus. What does her ki feel like?
Human. That's a good place to start. In his mind's eye he can see his daughter, barely as high as her mother's hip, with her pink dress and golden hoop earrings and messy blonde hair that she's taken to wearing long—as human as human could be. White ki. But—
The door bangs open as Marron comes bouncing in. She has her arms held straight out in front of her like Chiaotzu, and her pigtails flop as she hops along. “He said he wasn't!” she's saying, looking back at her mother. “But I think he is! Only he can't be, because he's nice, but maybe the stories were wrong and they are nice? What do you think?”
“I think I already told you not to slam the door,” says the cool voice of Juuhachigou-san as she follows Marron into the house. She's wearing a white knee-length sundress, and the soft material floats around her as she walks. She's still almost painfully beautiful.
“You said not to slam the door closed!” Marron chirps. “I slammed it open!”
“Either way, the door gets broken—“ She pauses. “Krillin?”
“Hey, Juuhachigou-san!” Krillin says, forcing a smile. “I got off early today. How're my favorite girls?”
“Papa!” Marron rockets forward and crashes into him, wrapping her arms around him. Bulma's warned him that there'll come a time when a kid abruptly decides they hate their parents, but Marron hasn't hit it yet, and Krillin gladly hugs his daughter. Juuhachigou-san is smiling from the doorway as she sets down her shoulderbag. Noodles and vegetables poking out of the bag, and Marron's a little muddy and worked up: shopping and a visit to the park. An ordinary day.
“Hey, sweet pea,” Krillin says, tousling her hair. Marron squawks and makes a face. “Were you talking about Chiaotzu?”
“Yeah! He was at the store!” Marron is beaming. “He was buying a pineapple, and I asked him if he was a jiangshi like in the movies!”
“What? Uh … honey, I'm not sure you should be watching those movies.” Oh thank Dende, a distraction. “How do you even know what a jiangshi is?”
“I watched it with Mommy! She said it's good to know your enemy.”
Krillin shoots a glance at his lovely wife, who's putting the groceries away. “You let her watch scary movies? Juuhachigou-san!”
The android scoffs as she closes the cupboard. “They weren't that scary. Juunanagou's boys are big fans, and Marron wanted to know what the fuss was about.”
“His boys are older than her! And it's not like they're in harm's way, out there in the wilderness. Knowing that scary stuff is real isn't gonna hurt—“ Krillin halts. “Wait. 'Know your enemy?' Juuhachigou-san, you don't, uh, think there's gonna be a jiangshi problem any time soon?”
Juuhachigou rolls her eyes. “You did just say some monsters are real. Marron needs to see that monsters can be killed.” A small smile quirks her mouth. “Besides, if the boys turn out to be Marron's enemies, we need to know what scares them.”
“I don't think we need to plan any cousin-killing just yet. Marron, sweetie, Chiaotzu is human. He's just pale and likes wearing old-fashioned clothes. Jiangshi aren't real.” Though there was that one time with Yurin …
Marron pouts. “I like it better when he's a jiangshi.”
“Give it up, Krillin,” Juuhachigou says. “Stop fussing about things you can't change.”
We'll see about that, he thinks. Panicking has, on occasion, been his specialty. “I don't know about that,” he says aloud, playing it off with a grin. “How fast can I get the Dragon Radar?”
* * *
It's a quiet evening at home. Krillin is doing his best to make it a good evening for his family, joking and helping with the dishes, asking Marron about her day and complimenting Juuhachigou-san on the meal. Marron chatters about playing at the park with some other kids, about splashing in the mud, about what she wants to do tomorrow. Chiaotzu figures largely, which doesn't entirely surprise Krillin: Chinese vampire movies aside, Chiaotzu is great with children.
(Even better than Puar. And as far as a kid is concerned, it's hard to beat an adorable shapeshifting cat.)
But while he's talking with his family and picking up the empty plates, he's having trouble focusing. He's a policeman now, but he's been a member of the Turtle School a lot longer, and the memory of that strange, tainted—tinted?—ki signature is gnawing at him. He catches himself focusing once or twice, trying to read Marron's ki.
It's still wrong. Like prodding a painful tooth.
Juuhachigou-san doesn't notice anything. She's in a good mood, chuckling at his lame jokes and talking about the latest report from Marron's teachers. With her iron grip on the household finances and occasional “presents” from Mr. Satan, she's certain they can afford a nice vacation this year—someplace cold, she thinks, where Master Roshi can't magically turn up to ogle anyone.
When Marron goes upstairs, though, Juuhachigou-san turns back to Krillin. Her eyes narrow, and the good mood drops faster than Goku diving for a fallen egg roll.
“All right,” she says. “What's wrong?”
Krillin jumps. “Er. What?”
The blue eyes are suddenly knife-sharp. “Don't play games with me, Krillin. Something's been bothering you all night.”
“Um. It's …” Krillin hems and haws for a minute. “It's … nothing? I think?”
“Krillin.”
“All right, all right!” He holds up his hands in defeat. “It's just something strange I noticed today. About … Marron.”
A flash of panic crosses Juuhachigou-san's face, but she forces it away before it can more than register. She's good at putting on a cold front, so much that it's automatic, but Krillin feels a pang at the sight. He's the strongest human alive, and Juuhachigou-san is light-years past him in power—yet in the circles they travel in, their daughter is barely a gnat. Beyond a kid's self-defense class, Marron has never shown any aptitude for ki manipulation or anything to do with fighting. She wants to be a dancer.
“I don't think it's bad!” he interjects hurriedly. “I mean … I don't … um. I don't really think it's bad. It's just strange.”
Juuhachigou's fists clench, but she doesn't yell or throw anything. She thrums with tension like a taut wire. “I know when you're lying, Krillin. I can read your heartbeat and blood pressure.”
Oh, right. His wife's a cyborg. “Juuhachigou-san!” he says desperately. “All right, it does scare me! It's not …” His brow furrows. “Juuhachigou-san, it's not quite human ki.”
“What?” The cold mask cracks again. “What do you mean, not human?”
“Not QUITE human! There's definitely human in there. Lots of human. There's just something extra.” Krillin laughs, trying to play it off. “I mean, it's not like I think you cheated on me or something! Hah, anyone can tell she's our daughter! I know her dad's human!”
“But her mother isn't.”
“No! Juuhachigou-san, I didn't mean—“
A growl, and then a sigh. Juuhachigou closes her eyes, and to his surprise, her fists uncurl. “No,” she says resignedly. “I know you didn't.”
“I'm probably just out of practice at sensing ki,” Krillin said hopefully. “Or maybe she's coming down with something? Ki is funny that way. We can take her to the doctor tomorrow, just to make sure.”
“Yes. We'll do that.” Juuhachigou frowns. “But if there isn't anything wrong with her, then I'm taking her to Bulma.”
“Wh—why Bulma?”
“Because Bulma has the blueprints for my brother.” Juuhachigou's voice is flat. “And blueprints for my brother are a lot like blueprints for me.”
“Juuhachigou-san, I'm sure there's nothing—“
“Krillin. Can you sense my ki?”
Awkward. Krillin swallows. “No.”
“Human father with ki. Cyborg mother with no ki. Daughter's ki is 'strange.'” She quotes his word back at him with a kind of despairing scorn. “We're not arguing about this.”
“No,” Krillin says sadly. “I guess we're not.”
* * *
Marron's doctor appointment goes badly. She's perfectly healthy: no colds, no fevers, not even food poisoning or lapsed vaccines. “I wish all my patients were in such good shape!” says the doctor, happily offering Marron a lollipop.
Krillin comes home to an ultimatum. Juuhachigou-san is taking Marron to Bulma that weekend, and Krillin can choose to come with or not. Either way, it's going to happen. Juuhachigou's eyes are hard and cold, her mouth set in a firm line. Krillin says he'll drive them.
“We just want to make sure you're healthy, sweetheart,” he says as he makes sure Marron is buckled into the backseat. Juuhachigou is loading overnight bags into the trunk, just in case. “Bulma knows a lot more than a lot of doctors. And I bet she has better lollipops, too.”
“I hope so,” Marron says, pouting. “He gave me watermelon flavor.”
Krillin recoils. “Watermelon! Hang on, I need to call the station. That doctor has to be arrested!” Marron giggles, and Juuhachigou-san manages a small smile.
The drive goes smoothly. Juuhachigou already called ahead, and the Capsule Corp. security waves them around back, to the big steel-and-concrete machine workshops. A slim figure in a blue jumpsuit is already waiting on the lawn, a roll of blueprints under her arm.
“Bulmaaaaa!” Marron calls, jumping out of the car and dashing across the lawn towards her. The blue-haired genius laughs and lets out an “oof!” as she receives fifty pounds of laser-guided Marron in the legs.
“Oh, wow! Look at you!” Bulma's fallen on her butt in the grass, but she manages to laugh and pat Marron's head. “You've gotten so big!”
“She sure has!” Krillin says. He's doing his best to keep the cheerful look on his face, but he's sure Juuhachigou's sensors are picking up his suppressed fear. His palms are sweaty. “She just keeps growing and growing! Guess which side of the family she gets it from.”
“Well, just so long as she's healthy, right?” Bulma says as she picks herself up, dusting off the grass clippings. “A very loud Prince of All Saiyans will be happy to tell you that height doesn't mean anything. Meanwhile, I know for a fact he's glad Trunks takes after me. Shall we go on in and get started?”
The machine lab Bulma shows them to reminds Krillin of an auto mechanic shop. There are several long metal tables and computer consoles, but also a number gutted engines and mysterious energy projectors in various states of completion. One table is completely covered in blueprints for new capsule vehicles. But the place is spotless, and per the terms of their agreement, there's a candy dish sitting on the blueprints.
Marron squeaks and aims straight for the sugar, but Juuhachigou outmaneuvers her. “No,” she says firmly, impervious to her daughter's puppy eyes. “Examination first, then candy. Bulma, get started.”
“Oh, of course! Don't mind me, just a scientific genius being ordered around like the maid,” Bulma mutters. “Climb up here, Marron, and we'll see what's going on.”
Marron can't quite make it up onto the table by herself, so Krillin lifts her up. As Bulma's eyes meet his past his daughter, Krillin knows he isn't hiding his fear well enough. Juuhachigou steps up beside him, and her hand makes its way into his. Bulma nods to them both and turns back to Marron.
“All right, this won't hurt at all,” Bulma chirps. She's dropped her roll of blueprints onto another table, but isn't opening it. Instead, she grabs what looks like a modified Saiyan scouter from the table and puts it on, plugging a long trailing wire into a socket over her temple. The other end of the wire goes into something that Krillin, if he didn't know Bulma, would call a graphing calculator. “You know what ki is, don't you?”
Marron nods. “It's a special energy. Everyone has some, but some people have lots, and they can use it to do stuff. Daddy uses it to make things go KABOOM! POW! FWA-SHH!” She throws up her hands, mimicking the motions for the Kienzan. “And sometimes like this!”
Juuhachigou's hand tightens on Krillin's, hard enough to make the bones creak. He knows that if he looks up at her, she'll be perfectly stone-faced. Practically glacial. But she's afraid for their daughter, and the pressure of her hand says more than her expression could at times like these.
“Okay. Well, I'm going to use this little thingy here to scan you, and then we can get a read on your power levels. Just like going for a checkup.”
“I still get a lollipop, right?” Marron knows what her priorities are.
“After,” Juuhachigou interjects again. Marron pouts, but settles down as Bulma turns on the scanner.
Krillin expects more—flash, for lack of any better word. Flash and pizazz. Instead, Bulma just looks Marron up and down a few times, squinting through the tinted glass of the scouter eyepiece. She holds up the strange calculator thing and waves it back and forth, a gesture familiar from years of watching her operate the Dragon Radar.
She frowns, but quickly wipes the expression off her face before Marron can see it. Adjusting a dial on the side of the scouter, she circles the table, still looking back and forth between Marron and the handset.
“Now that's interesting,” she says to herself. “Very interesting." A pause. "Very, very interesting."
“She's doing that on purpose,” Juuhachigou murmurs. Krillin leans into her a little bit, his head resting against the top of her ribcage, and tries to mutely offer comfort.
After five minutes of Bulma circling and muttering and making notes, Marron is clearly getting bored with the whole business. “Is it over now?” she demands. Her expression is threatening to ascend to Super Pouting 2, and Krillin knows he and Juuachigou-san's nerves are frayed enough already without Marron having a tantrum miles from home. Fortunately, Bulma nods and takes off her scouter.
“For now, sure. We might need another checkup soon.” She grabs the candy bowl off the table and offers it to Marron. “We have grape, cherry, apple, raspberry, chocolate, orange, and blue-flavored. Take your pick.”
“Chocolate!” Marron demands, and her request is granted. She beams up at Bulma. “Thank you, Miss Bulma! Can I go play with Trunks?”
“Sure,” Bulma says before Krillin or Juuhachigou can object. “He should be up in his suite, in the green tower. Level Four. Tell him I said you can play his video games.”
“Yay!” And Marron dashes out.
“That sounds like a diversionary tactic,” Juuhachigou says. Krillin agrees, though some part of him is still wondering what the heck blue flavor is.
“Oh, definitely.” Bulma is plugging the handset into her computer, which lights up as it begins downloading data. “Trunks hates it when people go in his room, but he'd never hurt Marron, so he has to shut up and take it. I have to knock my Saiyans down a peg whenever I can. Now.” She turns. “Krillin, what did you see when you sensed Marron's ki?”
“I … don't know.” Krillin winces a little at that admission. “It was human, definitely human, but sort of … not right. Like it was, I don't know, malfunctioning or something.”
Juuhachigou's mouth twists at the word 'malfunction,' but Bulma nods. “That's interesting, because I got something very similar. Her power level was extremely inconsistent. It was like her ki was constantly in flux, developing holes and strange off-shoots and patterns. I'd say 'chaotic,' but it's not even close to the strangest thing we've seen.”
“How can you say that?” Juuhachigou demands. “Something is wrong with Marron, and you're calm and casual about it? Fix her!”
Bulma glares. “First, I've barely started, Little Miss Crazypants. Second, you don't get to tell me to do anything—I'm the smartest, richest woman on the planet, and I have a very scary husband who doesn't like you very much, so back off. Third, we don't know that anything's wrong yet, so cool your jets!”
“Uh … Holes in her ki sounds pretty bad,” Krillin volunteers. He really hates it when women start fighting: youthful experience with Lunch and Chi-Chi has taught him that even if the men are often stronger, the women are scarier. And Juuhachigou-san doesn't appreciate being smarted off to by anyone who can't even punch through a wall. Krillin squeezes his wife's hand. “But Juuhachigou-san, Marron seems fine. She's happy and healthy. We can fix this, but Bulma's still the best person to help figure it out.”
Juuhachigou inhales. “Fine. But if you want to send your husband after me, Bulma, remind him who broke his—“
“Juuhachigou-san, please,” Krillin pleads.
Bulma looks back and forth between them. To Krillin's surprise, she visibly softens, and the angry line between her eyebrows smooths away. “I understand,” she says. “If I thought someone was keeping me from helping Trunks and Bra, I'd kill them too.”
Juuhachigou nods mutely. Krillin allows himself to relax a fraction.
“She does seem to be healthy,” Bulma continues after a pause, looking at the data currently compiling on her computer screen. “If there's anything physical affecting her ki, it must be pretty sneaky. The problem is that the scientific study of ki in humans is still a very new and inexact science. Me and Gohan have pretty much had to build it from scratch, and Gohan's all about theory and meditation. Me, I like numbers and control groups. If I had more samples to work with, we might get somewhere.”
“Well, you have power readings on us,” Krillin offers. “Do you need new ones?”
“No, not just power readings. DNA samples.” Bulma leans back against the desk, tapping her fingers on the metal. “I mean, we have the blueprints for Juunanagou—“ She gestures to the roll of prints still lying on the other table “—but, Juuhachigou, he's even better than you at avoiding me. I don't even have blood types for either of you. The whole organic aspect is a blank. If Juunanagou had a kid, we could compare the readings from that one and see if it possibly is an inherited condition. It could be something entirely mundane, or possibly the result of gestating in a ki-free environment, or just a bad day for my diagnostic equipment.”
A spark of hope. “But Juunanagou does have a kid!” Krillin exclaims. “Three of them! Okay, wait, two are adopted. But—“
Bulma's eyebrows shoot up. “He does?” She looks to Juuhachigou for confirmation, and Krillin would feel slightly offended by that if Juuhachigou wasn't suddenly perking up as well. (Which, by Juuhachigou standards, means that her eyebrows have raised a quarter of an inch.) “Is that true?”
“It is,” Juuhachigou confirms. “A daughter, about two years younger than Marron.”
“And Juunanagou hasn't reported anything odd about her ki?”
At that, Juuhachigou snorts. “He wouldn't be able to tell,” she says. “Ki sensing is very hard for us, and he didn't bother try learning.”
“That does fit with what I know of him,” Bulma says wryly. “Listen. I do want to help you. We all have to stick together, right? But while I'm analyzing the data I've collected today, it would be a huge help if you could persuade your crazy brother to hand over some samples. Blood and hair from him, his wife, and his daughter would be perfect, plus a base power level reading if you can get it. I'll give you a scouter model that'll sync up with my databanks and transmit the results remotely. I can have my team call your doctor's office and get Marron's latest test records, so we won't need to scare her by asking for blood here. And then we can figure out what's going on, and if this is a sign of any strange incoming disaster, we can head it off before it gets to universe-level. Sound like a plan?”
Never mind the scary stuff, Krillin loves Bulma. Platonically, but right then, oh boy does he love Bulma. “That sounds perfect,” he says fervently. “Thank you, Bulma! We owe you one.”
“Actually, by my count you owe me about fifty-seven, but that's okay.” The scientist winks. “I'll give you this one for free.”
Juuhachigou says nothing, but she and Bulma share a long look. Then the android nods, once, and turns away. “Krillin, you go call Juunanagou,” she says. “I want to talk to Bulma about those blueprints.”
Recognizing a cue when he hears it, Krillin nods. He stretches up to give his wife a kiss and leaves the machine lab.
* * *
Contacting his brother-in-law is something of a new development for Krillin. The twins had occasionally called each other, but an in-person encounter was somewhat rarer. Between seeing him be devoured by Cell and meeting him again on the island before the Universe Survival Tournament, Krillin met Juunanagou precisely once—when the android abruptly dropped by Kame House two months after Marron was born. Krillin still isn't sure who was more surprised, him or Juunanagou. Juuhachigou, of course, had handled the whole thing with her usual aplomb and merely smiled at the sight of the gobsmacked Juunanagou. In her brother's defense, Juuhachigou had been nursing an infant when Juunanagou landed on the beach, and of all the things he might have expected that probably hadn't been among them.
Since the Tournament, though, relations have been somewhat warmer. Krillin actually has a number for Juunanagou now, and the two families have met a few times so that the cousins can get to know each other. In Krillin's mind, Juunanagou has been tentatively downgraded from “future murderer of all humanity” to “my wife's weird brother who lives in the woods,” which involves just as many guns and creepy remote cabins but fewer massacres. Krillin is okay with that.
(Though he still doesn't understand how his brother-in-law managed to find and marry a woman who's not only nice, but not even a bit scary or dangerous. It's a mystery for the ages.)
The phone rings six times before picking up. “It's Juunanagou,” says the familiar flat voice on the other end. “What do you want?”
“Juunanagou-san! Hey, it's Krillin!”
“I know. I have caller ID. What is it?”
“Uh.” Not in the mood for small talk, then. “Juuhachigou-san and I … sort of need a favor.”
Juunanagou chuckles. “Babysitting again? I keep telling you, Marron is old enough to look after herself for a couple of days. Just leave out water and let her forage.”
Krillin would resent that, but he knows that if he suggested Juunanagou do such a thing with his own children, the android would leave Krillin's corpse on a stake in his front yard. If jabs, insults, and a facade of being uncaring are the price to be paid for getting along with Juuhachigou-san's only brother, Krillin can survive.
“Not quite. I mean, yeah, we'll be bringing Marron, but it's a little different than that. Sort of … awkward.”
“More awkward than normal?”
“Uh, maybe …”
“Hmph, it figures. But Koseki and the kids will be glad to see—wait a minute.” A burst of static makes Krillin wince, followed by the sound of wind as the holder of the phone cuts into a run. Then Juunanagou's voice comes through again, slightly distant. “Hey! Hey, you! Yes, you with the idiotic hair. You know, you set up a pretty nice campsite for a blind man—“ He's cut off by a remark Krillin can't hear. “You're not blind? I thought you must be, because you clearly weren't able to read the signs that prohibit fires in this area … Yes, that does include your cigarettes. … Yes, because of forest fires, and no, they're not 'nothing.' Have you ever had to clean up the corpses of animals that were roasted alive? … Well, I don't come to your place of business and murder your coworkers in front of you, so don't come to my park and set fires … Say that again, friend. Please.” The android's voice comes back clearly. “Krillin, I have to go. There's a man here who's really needs me to check his eyes. You and Juuhachigou drop by any time.”
The phone clicks off. Krillin puts it down and feels a slight twinge of pity for the errant camper who's attracted Juunanagou's wrath. From what he'd heard of them, they hadn't been exactly cooperative, but Juunanagou takes his job very seriously. And after lasting through the Universe Survival Tournament together, Krillin has little doubt that his android brother-in-law is willing to abuse Solar Flare x100 (or any other technique he can steal) to make his point to the alleged blind man.
A quick phone call won't have given Bulma and Juuhachigou-san the time they need to discuss the blueprints. Krillin decides to take the long way around and explore the Capsule Corporation grounds a little first.