Welcome to DBZ Love Garden

“Why are we slowing down?” He asked as I tried to bypass a few of the control systems. I know why… it’s his fault. One look at the fuel gauge is enough to tell me we've run out.

“Damn you, Trunks – why didn’t you make sure we were full on fuel before we left?!”

“Me? You’re the one who wanted to use the ship in the first place, I thought you did it!”

“You bastard!”

How dare he call me that. How DARE he call me a bastard! I know that’s what I am, I've had to live with it my entire life – and him reminding me NOW is not helping things any.

It won’t get us to our destination any sooner.

I want to see blood… I need to hear screams. The temptation is so sweet, I give in and attack him, my hands reaching for his throat as I snarl, “NEVER call me that!”

***

The attack, though unexpected, was met with equal and returned force. The two demi-saiyajins grasped at each other, nails tearing into skin, bruises blossoming onto bodies as they snarled and snapped at each other like animals.

The systems began to fail. Without fuel, the battery was stretched to its maximum, and the ship automatically shut down to its most needed systems.

Air….

Gravity became non-existent and as blood was let, it pooled, sparkling in the starlight as it floated around them, small bubbles of pain.

And they screamed. They screamed with rage, and pleasure – anger and hate and laughter resounded in their ears as they tore at each other.

It wasn't long before blasts began to be let loose, before levels were reached and surpassed, blood and gold clashing in the small space.

The ship began to shudder, groaning under the stress it was never meant to handle.

Seals cracked, but the two strongest living forces did not notice, biting at each other, tearing.

Screaming.

Laughing.

Pain was a welcome thing now, inflicted and received.

A final explosion tore through the ship, batted away, blasted through a wall. Air escaped swiftly, and the ship imploded.

Two bodies, flash frozen, blood boiled, floated among the wreckage – eyes open, empty – faces contorted in a final scream of agony.