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Chapter 8: Seventeen's and Eighteen's Insults on Twenty-three

Twenty-three had been taking cooking lessons from Chi-Chi for over a week now. What had started as a tense and reluctant arrangement had morphed into something resembling a routine. The android, cold and efficient as ever, was gradually improving in her cooking skills. Though she wasn't exactly a natural, her precision and quick learning were starting to pay off. Each day, Chi-Chi would begrudgingly walk her through a new recipe or cooking technique, while the Ox King watched from a distance, always wary of the android's every move.

But despite her progress, there was still much for Twenty-three to learn. Cooking required a certain finesse, an understanding of taste and texture that didn't come from data or calculation. Chi-Chi would often berate her for being too mechanical in her approach, telling her, "Cooking's not just about following steps. You have to feel it."

That sentiment was lost on Twenty-three. She wasn't built to feel anything. Yet, in the back of her mind, something about this place—the peaceful isolation of Mount Paozu, the stubborn strength of Chi-Chi—kept her coming back day after day. The interactions, however strained, stirred something unidentifiable within her. It wasn't curiosity or a sense of duty. It was something far more confusing.

As night began to fall on the seventh day, Twenty-three prepared to leave Mount Paozu and return to where Seventeen and Eighteen were likely waiting. The lessons had been long, and though Chi-Chi was far from fond of her, she had kept her end of the deal. In return, Twenty-three had refrained from harming anyone, though the Ox King was always close by, just in case.

As she stood at the front door, the night air cool against her synthetic skin, she looked back at Chi-Chi, who was busy wiping her hands on a dish towel. "I'm leaving," Twenty-three said flatly, her tone neutral. "Thank you for the lessons."

Chi-Chi didn't respond immediately, her eyes hard as she stared at the android. "I didn't do it for you," she said sharply. "I did it for Gohan."

Twenty-three's lips twitched in the faintest hint of a frown. "Understood."

The Ox King, standing nearby with his arms crossed, gave Twenty-three a cautious glance but said nothing. He was protective, wary of her every move, but he, too, knew this uneasy truce was their best hope of keeping Gohan safe for the time being.

With a nod, Twenty-three turned and took off into the sky, the sound of her shoes barely audible against the soft rustle of the wind. As she ascended, the cozy home of Gohan's family grew smaller and smaller until it disappeared into the vast landscape below. The night stretched on as she flew, her mind focused on her return to the androids, but somewhere in the back of her thoughts, Gohan's face lingered.

Soon enough, the ruins of a destroyed city came into view, and in the middle of it stood the remnants of a once-luxurious hotel. The place had been ravaged, with crumbling walls and broken windows, but Seventeen and Eighteen had made it their temporary base, enjoying the isolation and destruction as a twisted form of freedom.

Twenty-three landed silently, her sensors picking up the voices of her fellow androids from inside the building. She began to approach, but before she entered their line of sight, their conversation caught her attention. She paused, remaining just out of view as she listened.

Eighteen's voice was sharp and teasing. "So, what do you think of Twenty-three's little Gohan fixation, huh? I'm starting to think she's got the hots for him." Her tone was light, almost playful, but there was an edge to it.

Seventeen scoffed in response. "Please. She's with us, not some self-righteous do-gooder like Gohan. Even if she did like him, Gohan wouldn't be interested in a girl as dumb, far, and plain as Twenty-three."

Eighteen giggled in agreement. "Yeah, you're probably right. He's a scholar, after all. Gohan's always been more into brains than brawn. And besides, how could he ever love her after all she's done to his friends?"

The words stung more than Twenty-three had anticipated. Dumb. Fat. Plain. Was that how they saw her? Her hands clenched into fists, her fingers digging into her palms. Seventeen and Eighteen had never treated her with warmth, but she had assumed that was just the way androids were. Detached. Calculating. Efficient. But this—this was something else entirely. Their words carried judgment, and worse, disdain.

Twenty-three remained frozen in place, her mind swirling with fragments of data. She had never considered her intelligence and appearance—or lack thereof. But now, the insults clung to her, gnawing at the edges of her programming. She thought back to what Chi-Chi had said about Gohan's dream of becoming a scholar. That meant he was smart. Incredibly smart. Perhaps too smart for someone like her. Not to mention, he was handsome and a beefcake.

The realization weighed heavy on her, far more than she had expected. Her combat abilities were unmatched, her skills designed for one thing: destruction. But intelligence—real intelligence—was something she couldn't manufacture. Gohan, with his deep understanding of the world, his love of learning, was beyond her grasp. He existed in a realm she couldn't reach, and for the first time in her existence, Twenty-three felt... inadequate.

She turned away from the entrance to the hotel, her usual cold determination replaced with a hollow feeling she couldn't name. The idea of confronting Seventeen and Eighteen now, after what she had overheard, made her hesitate. They were her allies, but their words had revealed a cruel truth she hadn't been prepared for.

As she stood there, staring into the distance, her mind replayed Chi-Chi's earlier challenge: "You don't understand what it means to protect your family." Maybe she didn't. Maybe she never could. But if she couldn't understand that—if she couldn't even grasp the intelligence that made Gohan who he was—then what was she? A machine? A weapon?

With a heavy sigh, Twenty-three floated silently away from the hotel, keeping her distance. She had no intention of letting Seventeen and Eighteen see her like this. Not now.

For the first time in her life, she felt lost.

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