Post by Rensou Hiruen on May 12, 2013 22:43:45 GMT -5
A barracks to the East housed the soldiers, regardless of sex, such was Saiyan way –nearly no sexism existed amongst them. Between those quarters and the officer housing rested the mess hall, the centrifugal point of any Saiyan establishment, a place brimming with interaction and frequently filled to maximum capacity. The training facilities to the North and South made certain of heavy appetites, for the creatures that had made Nor their second home, and that which resided closest to the brightest star in the beautiful night held within it a man burdened with sorrow but reinvigorated with brimming hope. The positivity beaming from his features and bathed with the crimson light of the chamber derived from the knowledge that the one he awaited was one Noko Arahara, a Saiyaness, and one brimming with more potential than even the general himself could claim.[/u]
Oft he paced, and it was no different now. The woman was late, but that could be forgiven once she had payed with improvement; sweat and blood, perhaps tears, definitely utmost effort. The time was two hours before sunup, and Rensou Hiruen was better rested than he had been in months. Before Touketsuki, he had worried, doubting the ability of Boliko to defeat the tyrant that had defeated the older of the pair on two occasions. After Yakedo had been slain by their hands, Rensou had become consumed with sadness, the cause the loss of home and kinsmen. However, with Noko and that brazen swordsman, Sohko Masamune, Rensou would see his and theirs avenged and the heads of the criminals against Saiyan-kind upon pikes.--------------------
The Saiyan compound. Noko had been here once before, and very briefly. She had gone home to Merrow Island soon after meeting up with Rensou once more, only her promise that she would be there at this day at this time returning her so quickly. Noko knew naught of what the Saiyan wanted, but she would honor his request. She had hoped to speak with him, catch up as best they could. Something not so easily done in the company of others, even those she considered good friends. She had wondered if he would bring up that night on Vegeta. Their kind-of date, the kiss, and her meeting with her father. Noko had thought over these things over and over again before deciding to keep quiet. When they parted ways, they had agreed to spend time together as friends before another step was taken. He had also seen her happy, excited out of her mind to meet her father. It didn't take much thought for her to decide not to tell him of that meeting. Best let him think that night ended peacefully.
Through the base she ran, dodging around half-awake Saiyans either on their way to bed, or just getting up from it. More than once she got a leer and a grin form the male solders. Her look of dress had changed since arriving on Nor. No longer did she wear the baggy shirt and pants Rensou had seen her in before. Nor did she wear the usual skin-tight suit of the Saiyans. Instead, her figure was draped in fine, lightweight material in a green that matched her Hua exactly. The back was cut low, the front rising up into a halterneck. It was cinched tight around the waist in a pure gold belt, the ends of the dress flowing to her mid-thighs. The dress was something sh ewore proudly, displaying the sage-green markings that had appeared on her skin shortly after her leave of Vegeta, proof of her Goddess's favor. Noko had left Nor a Duiecite in heart, and returned one in spirit. Noko slowed her steps as she came to the doors of the training room Rensou had requested meeting her. Of course, she had no idea she was here to train, or what she was in for. Hesitant, she opened the door and stepped inside.
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The doors parted out of the building, allowing a cool rush of morning air inward. Rensou reveled in the refreshment of Nor against his skin while Noko Arahara strode with that agile gait into the expansive room, reinforced walls and thickened tiles beneath her feet. The energy emanating from the male was one of excitement, while her own was more apprehensive. Noko truthfully had no idea why she had been invited here by the man she had met weeks ago on the now nonexistent planet Vegeta, but she had the sneaking suspicion that the summons had to do with training.
Arahara's idea was soon confirmed as Rensou Hiruen swept his eyes over the stunning though out-of-place dress she had presented herself in. The man was wearing his typical attire, clean simplicity with a hint of predictability. The general was prepared for the proceedings, the black singlet stretched tightly across his body, tucked into those white boots and wristwraps. The Saiyan from Merrow Island, however, wore a splendid dress that was modest while accentuating her beauty, well, beautifully. A thin sash of gold held the green fabrics to her waist, and a pair of leather sandals clung to her feet. Casual was the word to describe her gorgeous ensemble.
“I hope you don't mind sweating in that, Noko,” Rensou echoed, the weight of his words expressing his meaning behind asking her here to the training facility within the Saiyan base on Nor. The man meant to mold the Saiyaness before him into a warrior despite the amount of time they had, and the excruciating regimen he had planned would undoubtedly destroy the dress, that thing of green and gold would become a mass of sweat-soaked cloth filled with the blood from her veins and the brine from her sweat. Already Rensou had noted she carried not the weapons Sohko had bestowed upon her, and he grinned inwardly. He meant to see the woman more skilled in the arts of the physical and the ki.
“I brought a different outfit, if you'd like to change.” he offered. Noko's soft smile had fluttered to a frown of disappointment. The woman sent her eyes where Rensou's outstretched finger pointed, and the folded mass of darkness repulsed her. Noko had wished to catch up with the man she had kissed on his home-world, but as always, the threat of Geurin and the warriors of Earth hung over them. The insult and blow they dealt to the Saiyans would obviously go answered, and it was clear to Noko that Rensou wished it sooner rather than later. Suddenly, she thought of the possibility of such a thing happening to Nor and decided she could not rest until she was strong enough to defeat them, and she gave a small smile once more.
“For me? You shouldn't have,” Noko Arahara joked, shaking her head as the gruff fellow offered a grunt in return before he nodded.
“I won't. . .” Rensou began, but Noko cut him off.
“Don't look, or I'll give you another scar!” Arahara chimed, her sandals carrying her towards the folded garment as the son of the Hiruen clan turned and sighed, robbed of his opportunity to prove himself a gentleman. With a lifted hand, he ran his fingers through his hair and touched the scar the woman had planted there with an empty beer bottle. The former gladiator resolved himself not to sneakily glance upon the naked body he so very much wished to see, the idea of more marrings upon his flesh enough to stay his gaze.
Rensou Hiruen listened while Noko kicked her sandals away and unfastened the belt, setting the shoes and strap neatly in the corner before the soft fabrics fell away from her flawless body, a thing that had become covered in runic markings of the loveliest matching hue. Noko had left for Vegetasei a Dieucite in spirit, and had returned one in body, her innate power unlocked by her combat with the warriors of Geurin. With sounds of exertion, the woman began to pull the body-suit over her form and immediately realized the ensemble was a set of training weights. The effects of the densest metals known to sentient life nearly doubled her weight, and she fell to her bottom as she slid on a set of boots with similar purpose and in addition, matching gloves. Noko Arahara was now dressed exactly as Rensou. She stood with much difficulty.
“I don't like it,” she sighed, taking an awkward step forward.
“Well, you definitely won't appreciate this,” But Rensou would do what must be done, and while Noko made an expression of curiosity and dread, he did exactly that.
While Noko had assumed the dress of a warrior, Rensou Hiruen had placed himself before the controlling computer set into the wall and placed his hand upon the dial. With a flick of his wrist, the gravitational force exerted on both he and Noko increased to fifteen times the gravity of her home planet, but only five times that of Vegetasei. Rensou would have been hardly bothered if he had never trained in gravity before, but with the training he had undergone over the years, the increase was nothing to him.
However, Noko had been taken by surprise and tumbling to the floor the female had went. “Rensou, what's going on!?”
Surprise, confusion, and fear had overtaken her, and she gazed up at Rensou with those violet eyes. The general had expected as much, but had completely neglected to inform her of the pressure she would have to bear should she wish to increase in power. It was a necessary thing, he would see the experienced emotions more readily accepted and without the sudden surprise, Noko would never be able to withstand such trials. It caused him pain to do such things, but he hid his emotions as a Saiyan easily could while his heart begged him to lift her to a standing position once more, while the hands yearned to free Noko of the gravity!
“It's fifteen times the gravity of Nor,” Rensou explained, but he offered no physical existence whilst he begged his eyes not to betray his inner feelings. The man knew she could work through this and stand, and knew she had already undergone similar torments on Vegetasei, a world which no longer existed. His mind wandered back to the ruby obliterated by Geurin, and he wondered if Noko had undergone a similar fall when she had taken her firsts steps onto her true home. The bloody jewel was gone, and Noko knew there was but the here and now, this challenge.
“I believe you can stand,” Rensou offered, his emotion turning to enthusiasm in hopes of inspiring her efforts. The man began to pace back and forth impatiently.
The woman immediately realized she was being tested, and Rensou grinned as the realization lit her beautiful features. Violet hues watched, completely sure that if she asked, Rensou would assist her in standing. Then, the woman realized that to do so would be completely unfair to herself, and just as importantly, Rensou himself. Noko felt the spark within her rise, the Saiyan blood, and she slid her arms under her body and growled with violent exertion as she pushed with all her might
“You can do this. . .” she whispered, speaking directly to herself as her face locked with strain. Her ki, the hua, began to peacefully billow from her body as all efforts were focused to the task. Those arms began to lift her torso up, and with a few more inches, Noko would be upon her feet once again.
“That's it! Get up!” Rensou cried, clenching his fist out before him with excitement. The Saiyan had known this woman whom had served him drinks had a fighter within her, and he watched it unfold with shining coals filled with excitement and anticipation.
“Ruuuuurrrrgh,” Noko growled, the bestial blood within her pounding through her veins as she slid a knee under her weight, and then the opposite foot. The sparks shined in her aura as her eyes clinched shut, and every muscle within her body strained as it became pressured by both her power and the gravity. The growl escalated, and the woman stood. A step forward was taken, and then a stumble. Noko Arahara came forward and landed against the broad chest of the tall figure, whom slid a foot behind him and supported both their weights for the time being. Noko stepped backward, supporting herself and glancing up nervously, but the pride showed in her expression.
“Did I pass?” she pondered.
“Not yet, but you're on the way there!” Rensou returned, letting his excited fist fall to his side. Noko had a fair distance to travel yet, but that was the beauty of the gravity in all the harshness of it. To stand was one thing, but to operate under the effects were an entirely different matter. The effects were going to work her body to nothing, but that fire she had just shown would return with greater fury! Such was the way of the body, and in particular, Saiyan flesh! Rensou Hiruen was going to break Noko Arahara and she knew it and took it in stride, only so that the both of them might see her ascend into a new level of combative prowess in body and mind. Twenty four hours of hell awaited her.
“Well. . .why exactly are these clothes so heavy?” she chimed, still apprehensive about the whole idea of training while she bought time to see her body more accustomed to the intensity she felt pressing over every inch of her revealed curvature, which, she thought thankfully, Rensou was not staring at like a typical male. The clothing left nothing to the imagination, but Rensou was undistracted, this was a man whom had seen many female Saiyans in such dress and less than that. Noko took a tentative step forward, this time without flaw. She smiled to herself with confidence.
“Because you're not very strong,” Rensou chuckled, unable to explain the compressed metallic threads interwoven into the tough black fabrics, layers and layers of the dense metals encased in darkness. Mato would have been able to explain easily enough, but Rensou himself opted to hide his ignorance with a joke he knew very well might incite violence from Noko, a woman he had found quick to anger.
Noko scowled. “I don't know what you mean, I'm perfectly fine!” she snapped, her tail matching her tone in movement. In truth, she felt like she could go down any second, but to prove a point she turned her weight and that upon it into a cartwheel. Her body on her elbow and wrist felt like it could crush them should she push herself too far, but with a shaking arm she finished the smooth movement and bounded back to her feet.
“See?
Rensou gave a false expression of hurt, but he was never surprised at her expression. He had expected more. Besides, he had meant to push buttons, and it had given her a measure of courage, and he could not help but admire as Noko began to walk throughout the room, gaining confidence all the while. Finally, he offered a measure of kindness.
“Use youre ki,” he explained, “I've seen you fly, but that's not necessary, just enough to aid standing.”
There was, however, a fine line to tread. Too much energy, and Noko would find herself exhausted before she had managed to train in the slightest. “Find a perfect balance between struggle and ease, alright? When you're tired, we'll rest.”
Noko pondered the terminology used for a moment, but then remembered what Rensou was trying to explain. Her hua. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes and felt her power once again flow through her like a river, allowing the energies themselves to stave off the majority of the struggle. For a moment, she fluctuated and nearly lost her standing posture, but she caught herself once again. Noko nor Rensou had known that she was such a quick learner, and they both smiled simultaneously.
“Is there anything else you want to address before we begin? Questions?” The man had ignored the formalities and polite gestures, wishing to see her used to the gravity as soon as possible. Noko had covered that portion and earned a casual air from the man, whom considered their relationship something. Friends. . .perhaps, Hiruen was not very clear on the specifics of the situation.
“Your son. . . ?” Noko asked softly, her unspoken words clear. She wished to know if his son had perished on Vegeta or if he was still alive. Noko doubted that he would be training her instead of grieving if he was, but she had noticed that most, if not all Saiyans, were quite different that Noran people. She also had a very pressing question within her, but it was a difficult thing to bring up. Where did they stand, were they friends? More or less? Noko did not know, and neither did Rensou.
Opposed to the feigned hurt of earlier, the shock was now a truth as Rensou tilted his head to the side in response. Saiyans were closed-off creatures, at least those of Vegetan origin. Koregutsu himself shared the same differences Noko was expressing, the willingness to be much more open with their thoughts and feelings. The eyes of the man told the tale before he ever spoke as they lit up and Noko sighed with relief.
“Tsuken,” Rensou began, thinking of his wonderful little one, “is asleep not far from here.”
“I'd like to meet him,” Noko expressed, and the father of the child nodded.
Rensou began to laugh. “He insisted we sleep on the ship, to leave room for the other refugees.”
Thus, they had. Boliko had asked that Rensou oversee inviting the rest of the race to the Noran homeworld, and already the base was brimming with what remained of the Saiyan people. Small squadrons had been left on Niwa and Amazonica to ensure the flow of business to see their war efforts funded, but Koregutsu base now housed most, if not all of the remaining Saiyans in the universe.
Rensou's own question came with difficulty. “Your family. . .” those that he had helped her find, “are they well?
Noko pondered telling him everything. The whole fiasco of meeting her drunkard father and cruel family, and the words were on the tip of her tongue, ready to gush outward. She swallowed them at the final moment, forcing them back. Noko did not want to put the knowledge of those terrible events on the shoulders of Rensou, did not wish to see the pity in his eyes, she had grown up seeing that look far too often. Still, Rensou sensed the discomfort in his posture and glanced downward, very uncomfortable with the whole situation.
“They. . .they didn't make it,” she murmured, quickly, wishing to stray away from the subject. “So, what now?”
Rensou Hiruen had no idea, but his body knew. With apprehensive steps forward, the man awkwardly stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her. Apprenhensive at first, but then the body settled into the hug naturally. Affectionate, comforting, that was what Rensou wished to convey, and Noko realized that he was trying his dark heart out. Perhaps there was light left within the man, but for now she relaxed into him with head upon shoulder. Simultaneous, the pair began to recall the kiss shared between them and unknown to both, they suddenly blushed. As quickly as they had come together, they parted. Rensou stared down shyly, and Noko quickly strayed towards the next topic.
“So, training, anything in particular you had in mind?” she asked. She could not look at him, not yet, not while she was replaying those events in the sky in her mind. The stars, his warmth, his lips. Noko cleared her throat and mind, turning her violet gaze upon him, ready. She was tense and ready to spring, though those cheeks remained flushed.
There was only the idea that everything would be alright to cling to now, Rensou thought. Eventually, time healed all things as sadness scarred like the markings on his face and body. The man had often held women in his powerful arms, but Noko was different from the many of late, there was emotion in their touch, a spiritual connection. The Saiyan tossed those thoughts sideways and set mind to the current protocol.
“Have you ever killed a living, thinking being, Noko?” he asked, his voice suddenly serious.
Noko stilled. Rensou had unwittingly taken her by surprise once again, and immediately she realized what Rensou had known all along. This would be no normal training session. There would be no simple stretches and efforts to improve on already existing technique. Rensou was a fighter, and more often than not, a killer. Noko had read up on their history, had seen their ways, and heard it with her ears. That tail twitched as she shook her head, averting away from his gaze.
“No. . .” she said softly, “the. . .fight on Vegeta was my first serious one.”
There was shame in her, but Rensou was not judgmental. Koregutsu had shown him the Saiyan way was not the only way toward the right, but the man was still very much tuned to his culture. The Saiyans were a warrior race, those that stood before their might must perish or they would die in the attempt! Noko had long wondered if she was more Saiyan than Noran, she had a fierce temper, a sharp tongue. Still, she was nothing like the Saiyans of Vegeta, would Rensou consider her a hindrance in their counterstrike against Earth, she wondered. . .the man had spoke of a fire within her, a spark unlit. Noko still doubted his idea, though she kept the thoughts to herself. Noko Arahara had never killed another being and had never thought of it, and the idea she might have to on Earth had yet to cross her mind until now.
“I figured as much,” Rensou grinned, the man had felt the woman fight on Vegeta, and despite not being outmatched in the strength spectrum of the engagement, it seemed she had been unable to turn the tide of the fight toward her advantage at any point. That would need to be remedied, and the son of clan Hiruen would see it done. Coal eyes had already deciphered her stance as sound, though the posture was very much Noran –acceptable enough, the people seemed to create fine warriors, had not Amaranth shown impressive strength? Aye.
The dilemma was bringing out the killer in Noko Arahara, a difficult task indeed. Though to what extent was unknown, she seemed to care about Rensou for reasons he would never be able to comprehend. The man thought himself despicable by her standards, and at times, found his own belief system to be flawed, a constant struggle of one far to ingrained in his ideas and the want to change raged within. Thus, there was nothing Rensou could do but improve upon the well of strength Noko had available to her. Suppression. Rensou Hiruen's own fighting strength was similar to her own at this point, and thus, a spar was in order. . .it was only through physical destruction that the flesh could rebuild itself and gain ability.
“I can't give you a killing instinct, Noko,” and he was not even certain he could ever desire such a thing, “but I can see you stronger, and hopefully the Saiyan you are will do the rest.” The powerful frame of the man slid feet apart, the soles of his boots squelching slightly against the tiles as his left arm cocked up and behind, his right arm low and slightly bowed. “Hit me, as hard as you can!”
The training had finally begun.
Noko tried not to grin as not an ounce of disgust played upon the face of Rensou, only an inner hope. Her head nodded, her expressed sober as she slid into a warrior's stance. A whip of her tail belied a Saiyan excitement bubbling within her, and she took a deep breath to relax mind and body. The Noran people were all about quick precision. . .the most important aspect was survival, whereas the Saiyans sought nothing but victory, without victory, their struggle was meaningless. Noko had forgotten survival on Vegeta, but she would not betray her roots now and fail him.
Nay, she meant to impress Rensou Hiruen as she stepped forward and turned her nimble frame into a kick directly into his surprise. Rensou had expected a strike from her arm, and she had proven herself unpredictable that very moment. Set feet squelched across the floor before they caught, and immediately Rensou bounded forward and offered a kiai from an open palm that pushed Noko Arahara backwards. Distance was created, and it was abundantly clear that Rensou wished to see her talents with ki.
“With the shin, woman!” he advised, suddenly a fighting mass rather than a consoling friend.
Noko replied by forming a stable strand of energy that she lashed out with, aggression evident upon her features and a hiss of fighting pleasure rolling from her lips with exertion as it slashed against the chest of the man. The cloth was torn, and the skin flayed open. Crimson rolled down before Noko gasped, unaware of the force she had struck out with.
“Do it again,” Rensou requested, simply. The woman had halted her attacks due to the pain planted against the hide, but Rensou reveled in it calmly. She would probably find him some crazed, senseless creature, but in truth, if she meant to accompany he and Masamune to Earth she would need to be cruel! If Noko Arahara could break through the barrier preventing her from bringing harm to her comrades, she would most certainly destroy the enemies of the very people she called her friends!
Noko's eyes were locked on the cut on his chest, the incision he had allowed in effort to make her into a ferocious thing. Noko was breathing heavily, a shake in her voice as she shook her head from side to side, auburn locks bouncing to and fro as she did so.
“I'm not going to attack you if you won't defend yourself, Rensou!”
Rensou sighed, the expected response received. This would be more difficult than he had hoped, for he had wished for a Saiyanesque lack of mercy from the young woman. Obviously, it would take more than a polite request. Noko would need to be brought to anger before she would react as a Saiyan should to an opponent primed to be finished, and with ease Rensou manifested behind her. Noko's eyes widened with shock as she realized that the difficult path had been chosen when a fist cracked into the back of her skull, the Zanzoken a setup to a dominating strike which sent her sprawling, her neck and shoulders coursing with pain that brought tears to the corner of her eyes. She rolled to her back, blinking away the salty droplets as she stared up at him.
. . .“Your boyfriend isn't here to protect you, neh?” Rensou growled, dragging her closer and closer to the edge from which she could eventually never return. A killer would remain a killer, and Noko would become the very thing should she keep his company for too long. She looked at his terrifying, combat-hungry grin, rage welling inside her! Where was the Rensou that had held her and tried to chase away her sadness!? She lifted her hands, letting the anger course through her, and then, three shards of ki from her palm, her energy daggers meant to cut that stupid smile off his face!
Rensou willed his spheres into existence, the simple thought enough to bring his own weapons to bear. With two, he stopped a matching number of knife-strokes. A sideways turn was required for the third, but the man miscalculated the effort required to cleanly dodge it. It crossed over the cut on his chest, forming a diagonal intersection across his pectoral with doubled the blood flowing down his dark clothes. The devilish grin had now become the fighting smile of the Hiruen clan, pleasure derived from pain and gain. This man could cross the line from friend to foe in an instant, and he continued to insult, his words drawn from the need to push the Saiyaness over the edge as well as relieve him of some of his jealousy for the swordsman she had such an affinity for. . .
“Did you lie down for Sohko as well, Noko?!” his tongue snarled, “Get up!”
She found his words degrading, and it added to the fires of anger welling within her. Noko gave him his request, exploding upward with all her speed to wrap her fingertips around his throat. Those nails had bit into her palms as she was assaulted with words, and blood dribbled down the neck of Rensou Hiruen as she began to choke the life from him.
And he let her. There was no struggle, nay, if this woman could only find this rage against those that had killed her family and Rensou's Sessa, the battle for revenge would more easily be won! Rensou's two dark pools spoke while his lips could not, his body relaxed as she continued to rob him of breath, of life itself.
Go ahead, do it!
Blinding rage. Piercing hurt. His word circled around in her head, his mocking grin was all she could see. Her attack landed true, the General once again not even trying to defend himself. He let her hands encircle his neck, let them tighten slowly. Tighter, tighter, tighter. Rational thought had left her, only the rage left. For a second, her violet eyes seemed to flicker. Black, violet, black, violet. It stopped just as suddenly as it began and her head started to clear. His scent pierced her first, the deep inhale of it sending her into a coughing fit as air was forced back into her lungs. Her glanced down, gazing into his coal eyes. He wanted this. Had planned it from the beginning. The moment Noko had stepped foot into the gravity chamber, he had started working her. Playing her. He had wanted her to tap into the Saiyan rage. Had pushed her to.
Slowly, her hands uncurled from his throat as rational thought came back to her. She had been choking him, trying to end his life. And he had let her. Her hand came down, a harsh slap across his face as tears had sprung to her eyes. She stayed atop him, shaking, numb.
“Why...?”
The Saiyan coughed, inhaling deeply as those hands finally released his throat. A moment longer, and Rensou Hiruen would have been forced to end that himself, and, as a matter of fact, it would have been perhaps better had it reached that point. The scarry face was pale with a lack of oxygen, but the lips smiled as she shook and questioned him, wondering why he had pushed her so hard and far in such a short amount of time. With breath finally caught, Rensou released his reasoning. “I'd prefer we both stayed alive,” the former gladiator informed.
Her eyes. They magnetized, and that tail of his whipped to and fro, here and there in the excitement of emotion, the thrill of violence. What came next was another of those natural, impulse actions, Rensou Hiruen kissed Noko Arahara. It mattered not whether she had developed feeling for that brave fellow whom had saved her life, nay, what mattered to Rensou was that he had developed feelings for her.
He kept smiling. Even after all of that, he kept smiling at her. Why? Why had he done this? His answer came and she recognized not madness in that smile but...pride? He was proud of her for almost ending his life? He was proud that her hands had almost squeezed the life out of him. She gaped down, unable to believe it. This was the training he had wanted to do. He wanted to make her into a killer. Or at least, someone capable of killing.
“Are you ma-!”
He pulled her to him, words being cut off harshly by his lips. Noko sat atop him, eyes wide. He was kissing her. Rensou was kissing her. Her eyes closed and she kissed him back, giving him the same intensity he was giving her. Her fingers curled on his jumpsuit. Once again he had surprised her. Once again he had awakened that feeling of heat inside her. Only this time, when she pulled back for air, she kissed him again. Arms circled the neck hands had previously choked, those fingers curling in his back hair. She kissed him, hot and deep. Yes, she had been rescued by Sohko. Yes, he had been her guardian angel and she had felt a connection. But it was of a different kind. A gentle warmth to Rensou's consuming fire.
Quite insane, actually, would have been the man's reply. . .had he not had an exquisitely beautiful and somewhat eccentric Saiyan female atop him, sucking in a lungful of air before she applied her lips to his own once again. That smile was a constant thing, the corners of the mouth lifted permanently despite the welcome encumbrance against them. Rensou Hiruen welcomed her, adored this moment, would not trade it for a million Touketsuki dead at his feet.
Some things, after all, are more exhilarating than combat. They were few and far between, but the kiss of Noko Arahara could be counted among them.
Only when she stopped would he ask her, “Think you owe me dinner yet?”
She stared down at him, grinning, a bit of laughter slipping past her lips. Again, he surprised her. Rensou Hiruen had to be the most crass, violent, unpredictable man she had ever had the pleasure, r displeasure of meeting. She let out another laugh, this one slightly more hysterical as she finally started to calm down. Her head lay on his chest, arms still around his neck from their hot embrace only seconds before. She had been through every intense moment today, and it had only just begun. Nervousness, happiness, fear, pride, hurt, rage, excitement. All caused by the very man who lay under her. Noko sat up, brushing stray strands of hair from her eyes.
“After this, I think it's you who owe me dinner,” she replied. Her arms left him, her body removing it's self from atop him only to sit by his side, laying down seconds later. She stared up at the ceiling of the training room, trying to catch her breath, slow her heart.
Rensou sat up beside her, tilting his head sideways in mock confusion, his eyes holding hers for a moment longer. It was nearly noon, and his stomach was primed to growl at any moment. The man had given her expensive clothing, though a sort she could not possibly enjoy wearing, invited her to train in this facility that had cost a hefty sum of zeni, taken her to dinner on Vegeta, and she thought he owed her dinner. Again. After all his wonderful kisses, she owed him dinner. Clearly, Rensou Hiruen thought more highly of himself than any other soul in the living universe.
“But I took you to dinner last time, and I don't know any good restaurants,” he reasoned, dead-set on she being the one whom took he to dinner. In his mind, there was no other alternative.
She glanced over, seeing his stubborn gaze. She knew he was stubborn. He had been when he first asked her to dinner all those weeks ago. She also knew there was no reasoning with him at this point. Noko could be equally stubborn. But, she was tired, hungry, and not up to it. So with a roll of her eyes, she stood.
“Fine. But I'm changing, and you still can't look,” she said. Noko went back over to the bench and with a quick glance over at Rensou, changed out of the weighted clothing and into her normal dress. Already she felt like she had shed a hundred pounds. Though, that's exactly what she might have done. Last gold band in place, she turned to him.
“Do you still not eat vegetables?”
The Saiyan grunted at the idea that he might glance over at her naked form, though the want was definitely there. After all, a heterosexual male would always wish to look upon the bare figure of a woman, and a beautiful one especially. Still, Rensou refrained. Arrogant, rude, stubborn, and temperamental, but never so underhanded as to steal a look when one was unwanted. In mid-noise, his head nodded.
She changed, quickly. Rensou heard the heavy encumbrance of the weighted clothing impact the floor and when she finally asked a question, he turned. Dressed. Sadly enough, but at least she had remembered his dislike of foodstuffs that came from the dirt rather than things that ate the very thing. . .or things that ate those things. Carnivores and herbivores, they were called, but the specific wording slipped the mind. Intelligent, yes, educated? Hardly.
“Does bread count?”
She only grinned, shaking her head.
“No. Bread is not a Vegetable. Come on, I know the perfect place,” she said, gathering up her weighted clothing and leading him out.[/blockquote][/font][/size]
This is a collaborative effort between Rensou and Noko. The work was a fairly even split, with editing done by both parties to make the story flow more easily. I'd like to see the gains split between the two characters. Rensou only receives bonuses for interaction and 15x gravity, Noko receives the same and in addition, weighted clothing.
