📖 CHAPTER 20 – Shifting Currents
Life on the island changed after Krillin was accepted as a student.
It wasn't dramatic.
It wasn't loud.
But the rhythm shifted.
Three trainees now moved across the sand each morning under the watchful eye of Master Roshi. The competition was subtle but constant. Goku attacked every drill like a game. Krillin watched, calculated, and tried to outmaneuver through cleverness. I simply focused on refinement.
And then there was Launch.
She had stayed.
At first, it was convenience. She had nowhere urgent to be. The island was quiet. Roshi provided shelter. But gradually, her presence became part of the daily rhythm.
Blue-haired Launch was gentle, soft-spoken, curious about everything. She would bring water during training, ask questions about techniques, and listen attentively when Roshi lectured about balance and discipline.
Blonde Launch, triggered by a sneeze, was fire and unpredictability. Quick temper. Quick action. Zero hesitation.
Two extremes.
One person.
And both watched more than they spoke.
---
The First Real Interaction
It happened during a supply run.
Roshi had sent us to deliver milk crates again. Krillin tried to carry two stacks at once to prove himself and nearly tripped. Goku raced ahead as usual.
I carried my crates steadily, weight distributed evenly through shoulders and hips.
Halfway across the dirt road, I heard footsteps behind me.
Blue Launch walked alongside, hands clasped lightly behind her back.
"You don't talk much," she said gently.
"There is little need to."
She smiled faintly.
"I think there is."
I glanced at her briefly.
"Why did you stay on the island?"
She tilted her head.
"It feels… safe."
That word lingered.
Safe.
Not exciting.
Not thrilling.
Safe.
She looked at my shoulders where bullet impacts my shoulder before.
"You stood in front of me that day."
"Yes."
"You could have been hurt."
"I was."
Her eyes widened slightly.
"But you didn't react."
"Pain is information. It does not require panic."
She studied my face as if trying to understand whether that was strength—or something else.
"You're strange," she said softly.
"That is accurate."
She laughed quietly at that.
It was the first time her laughter felt directed at me, not just at the situation.
Small.
But noticeable.
---
Blonde Awareness
Later that week, during sparring practice, Launch sneezed again.
Blonde.
Immediate.
She leaned against the house porch, arms crossed, watching as Roshi pressured us inside the training circle.
Goku rushed too aggressively and stepped out.
Krillin tried a feint and got swept.
Then Roshi turned to me.
Our exchange was sharp but controlled. Compact strikes. Redirected force. Minimal waste.
Blonde Launch's eyes narrowed—not in anger.
In assessment.
After training, while Goku and Krillin argued over who did worse, she approached me directly.
"You hold back."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because striking without purpose wastes motion."
She smirked.
"No. I mean you hold back from everything."
I looked at her.
She held my gaze without flinching.
Blonde Launch did not speak softly like her counterpart. She challenged.
"You stand there like nothing touches you. Not punches. Not people."
"That is incorrect."
"Prove it."
Her tone wasn't flirtatious.
It was probing.
Testing boundaries the way Roshi tested footwork.
I didn't answer immediately.
And for the first time—
She looked almost disappointed.
---
Subtle Shifts
Romance did not bloom overnight.
There were no dramatic confessions.
No exaggerated jealousy.
Instead—
Moments accumulated.
Blue Launch began sitting closer during meals.
Not touching.
Just closer.
She asked about breathing exercises. Tried them beside me. Laughed when she lost rhythm.
Blonde Launch began challenging me more openly.
She would toss small objects at me unexpectedly to test my reactions. Once, she fired a single bullet near my shoulder—not to hit, but to see if I'd flinch.
I didn't.
She grinned.
"Still holding back."
But she stopped aiming near vital points.
Trust.
In her own way.
---
Roshi Notices
One evening, as the sun lowered into the sea, Roshi spoke quietly while Goku and Krillin argued over who ate more rice.
"You're not as detached as you pretend."
"I do not pretend."
He smiled knowingly.
"You stand slightly closer when she's nearby."
I paused.
He chuckled.
"Both versions of her."
Silence stretched.
"She's unstable," I said finally.
"Yes."
"Unpredictable."
"Very."
"Dangerous."
"Absolutely."
Roshi leaned back in his chair.
"And yet?"
I watched as Blue Launch tried to braid a small section of her own hair and failed, frowning adorably at the result.
Blonde Launch sneezed moments later, examined the braid, and muttered, "Tch. Useless."
Then sneezed again.
Blue Launch blinked, confused at the half-finished braid.
Something tightened in my chest.
"…She is sincere," I said quietly.
Roshi's smile softened.
"There it is."
---
The First Honest Moment
It happened at night.
The others were asleep inside the house.
I remained outside, practicing slow breathing under the stars.
Footsteps approached lightly.
Blue Launch sat beside me on the sand.
"I can't always control when I change," she said without preamble.
"I know."
"Does it bother you?"
"No."
She looked relieved—but uncertain.
"I don't want to be a burden."
"You are not."
She hesitated.
"When I'm the other… me… I say things I don't always mean."
"I understand."
She turned toward me fully now.
"And when she challenges you… does that bother you?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Because both versions are honest."
Her eyes widened slightly.
"Honest?"
"Yes. One expresses fear gently. The other confronts it aggressively. But both are real."
She stared at me as if seeing something different.
Not the fighter.
Not the anomaly.
But the person who observed without judgment.
Her hand moved slightly in the sand.
Not touching mine.
But close.
Very close.
"I'm glad you're here," she whispered.
It wasn't dramatic.
It wasn't loud.
But it was real.
I looked at her—not through her, not analyzing structure or breath or recovery rate.
Just looking.
"I am glad you are here as well."
She smiled.
Soft.
Genuine.
And for the first time—
The space between us did not feel like distance.
---
Slow Growth
The romance did not consume training.
It did not distract from growth.
Instead, it grounded it.
Blonde Launch still tested me.
Blue Launch still sought conversation.
Both began staying near during meditation sessions.
Krillin noticed—but misinterpreted it as simple friendliness.
Goku remained blissfully unaware of emotional subtleties, focused entirely on surpassing limits.
Roshi simply observed.
Development was gradual.
Earned.
Built through shared routine rather than dramatic confession.
No rushed attachment.
No possessive claims.
Just understanding forming layer by layer.
On a small island.
Under a palm tree.
Between strength and sincerity.
And the tide kept moving—
Steady.
Patient.
Like everything else worth building.