"So how's the club doing?"
"Unh," she nodded, idly pushing her dinner about her plate. This
was not something she'd realized that she'd have to deal with... "Fine.
Gohan's been doing a better job than he thinks."
He started to say something, changed his mind. This was not going
like he expected. He listened to the soft music, and gazed at the sky.
It had finally stopped raining a few hours ago, and the stars were
surprisingly clear.
"Well?" She tentatively raised some fettucini to her lips.
"Hmm... Sometimes, it's easy to forget that there ever was a moon,
and sometimes, I look up, expecting to see it again for some reason."
She swallowed, delicately.
Her lips were something he thought he'd learned how to read. There
was a way she held them when she was worried, a few faint lines that
changed slightly, a little stiffness in the way they moved... When she
was happy, she usually didn't smile outright - there was just the
slightest, softest curve to her lips, that somehow made them so very much
more inviting. At those times, looking at that secretive smile heated
his blood, and made him forget his age, and hers, for a while.
He could not read them now, and that scared him.
"What do you think of the garlic bread? Too much butter?" He
wiped his lips with a napkin, again.
"It's not fair to you... And I'm sorry."
"What? What about?"
She looked away. She was thinking about HIM, he thought.
He raised a glass, and looked at her through the fine tints of the
wine, before taking a long drink. "Very smooth. The wine, I mean." He
finally looked into her eyes. "I met him before, do you know? He was
just a kid then... and already one of the most dangerous fighters I'd
ever come across. For a while, I just didn't care, then for some time
after, I was angry, and kept on thinking about how I owed him so many of
these scars... But after that one match, I never saw him again, until
the few weeks ago at what was left of the Facility."
"Are you still angry?"
"It was a long time ago... I don't bother with petty grudges
anymore... I crippled him in that fight too, so all's fair."
Hands resting on her lap. He could see the tendons tense under her
skin, as she spoke. "About the night before last..."
So that's what this is about, he thought. "You don't have to say
it. I'm too old to feel..."
"No, it's not about that." Her eyes seemed to be asking something.
They seemed very bright, gleaming with something... something terrible.
"That night was wonderful, and that's part of the problem. But it's not
you, and it's not your age."
She stood, walked up to the edge of the balcony.
He managed a lopsided grin, the lines around his eyes crinkling.
"Ah, but my age has everything to do with me. Too many years, too many
fights, too many disappointments, and too little to show for it. I rave,
ignore me, please."
Her shoulders heaved. "It's not about you." Her voice seemed to
break.
"Then what is it about? Andrea... You're... crying. What is it?
Was the food that bad?" He tried to smile. "Did I do something wrong?"
Yamcha moved towards her, arms open.
She was about to lean into him, but pushed away at the last moment.
She cleared her throat, and looked away to the stars. "It's not you...
Yamcha... Arien is," her throat closed up. "Dead."
----
The Nikholas F. Toledo Zu
presents
The Three-Fold God's Path
a DragonBall fanfic
by
Nikholas 'Don Juan' F. Toledo
(Overseas Correspondent)
Episode 13: Steel Heart, Furnace of the Sun
"Oh... o-ohh..." He did not know how to respond to that. He had
never known the man, outside of that fight so many years ago. "I...
understand your loss. Even if I do not share it." He stepped closer.
She sighed, and muttered, "That jerk... it didn't have to be this
way..." She wiped at her eyes. "I don't want to talk about it."
"Oh, um. Nnn-h. Ah... how was the pasta?"
"Just fine."
Could a voice be more flat? "Err... I knew I should have added
more garlic. Ah..."
"There's more, Yamcha. I... don't think I should see you
anymore."
He stepped back, and froze. A familiar sinking sensation in the
pit of his stomach. "Wh-why? Is it because I'm too old? Because I'm
just an ignorant martial arts instructor? I don't cook well enough?" He
was talking too fast, and the lines seemed to hammer into her. He
stopped. She did not need to hear this now, he thought. He poured
himself another drink, and made sure his voice was soft as he spoke,
"What is it that's wrong about me this time?"
She shook her head. She still was not looking at him. "Is that
what the others told you when they wanted to break it off? That there
was something wrong with you?"
From where he stood, Yamcha could see the soft, graceful lines of
her neck, and wished he could reach out and just brush his fingers
against it. He sipped at the wine, and cleared his throat. "Well... I
guess anyone can still be a fool in these matters, no matter what the
age. You don't have to explain, I mean," he waved his hands helplessly,
"you just lost a good friend. I can relate to that."
"It's not about you, Yamcha. It's not about your age. You're a
great guy, Yamcha. You really are. Arien's... passing away. It made me
realize... what I was doing. I'm sorry, but you wouldn't want... I
mean, I can't. I don't want to be... using you."
"As a substitute for him? Is that all it was? Is that what the
night before last was?"
She flinched. "Don't... Please don't yell at me."
"Well excuse me if I sound bitter!" he almost could not control his
voice. "I'm sorry." He sighed again, deeper this time. He walked
around the table separating them, and gently placed his hands on her
shoulders.
Those huge, warm hands. "I am sorry. Okay, I can accept this.
Will you look at me, please?" Hand against her chin, he tilted her head
up. Such a shame. He let go. "If you really feel that way, then... It
is better that you told me now." He smiled. "Don't worry about me - I'm
tough, I can take it. Right now, I'm worried about you. So, okay, I'll
just put the dishes in the sink, then I'll bring you back to your
boarding-house, and I'll still meet you tomorrow morning for coffee,
okay?"
She nodded.
She watched him leaving the balcony, watched the set of his back.
She heard him climbing down the stairs to his kitchen, and when she was
sure he couldn't hear her, with those preternatural senses lent to him by
decades of martial arts experience and training, she whispered, "I'm
sorry too. I... I don't truly feel that way. And you really are
something... And I hate to lie to you, but..."
She rubbed her hands, which were cold. "Arien..."
---
He leaned against the stairs.
Yamcha shook his head. "Why do I let these things hurt me still?"
He glanced at the bulletin board he kept around, and saw the
reminder he'd put up for himself the other day. "Hmm. That's right,
Gohan and I were supposed to be there to oversee the party... He fell
ill after that vision of his... Ah, well." He murmured, "Goten and
Trunks will surely keep anything from happening to Anju."
---
"Goten," a hard, powerful hand gripped his shoulder and gently
shook him. "I think you've had enough."
He swayed as he determinedly chugged at another bottle. He wiped
his mouth with his sleeve. "I'm fine, dammit Trunksh. I'm jusht... just
doing sh... something that I've always wanted to try."
"You've never tasted a drop of alcohol before in your life. What
happened to your telling me that you'd never take a drink of 'that
horrible stinky stuff?'" Trunks tried to grin in a light-hearted
fashion, and managed to make his smile slightly less mocking than normal.
Slightly. He turned a disapproving glare on Goten's companion, who
pointedly ignored him. "Your taste in companions seems to be getting
worse too."
Goten's hair stirred, and people wondered why a cold wind began
blowing through the room. His eyes burned. The fog about his brain
seemed to burn away instantly with the heat of his power, and there was
nothing clumsy about the graceful way he rose to his full height. There
was a dangerous set to his shoulders. The dizzy flashing of disco colors
hid the blue sparks of light that danced around his form.
"There are times, Trunks, when you just don't know when to mind
your own business. I'll say it again for you. Leave. Me. Alone. Got
it? I don't need the great generosity of your highness, I don't need
your sympathy, I don't need your concern, I don't need your jolly
company, I don't need you. Go back to Ami. Dance her around the floor.
Go out on the balcony, gaze at the moonlight, dance with her on top of
the clouds, show her your million credit anime collection. Whatever.
Just get away."
Trunks irritatedly re-arranged his immaculate hair, and bowed,
leaving. "I'd slug you a real good one, if it wasn't likely that you'd
puke over my shoes. It was Ami who asked me to see if you were okay.
Jerk." He left.
Goten sighed as he sat. The focus of his power scattered, and his
eyes dimmed back as his thoughts sank again into the haze. "Yeah. Ah'm
jusht pfine. Shtruttin' fop. Who'sh a jerk?"
He watched the others in the room intently. The blazing lights of
every color imaginable, flashes of laser fire, it was an intricate dance
of energy wrapping about those clumsy, jerking motions of the students to
a desperate beat and melody that meant nothing. A glimpse of blue hair,
lost in the crowd of shuffling and stepping, she saw him as she sat on
the other side of the room, and there was something sad in her face, or
maybe he imagined it? The music was loud and painful to his ears, a
dissonant screeching... He was hearing differently, he was sure he'd
enjoyed that song just the day before.
"Oh, Son-kun! What's wrong, did you get dumped?" Mocking laughter
from the shallow. HER friends. The ones she had said meant nothing to
her. Quickly sank back into the sea of faces and technicolored shapes.
"Oy, Goten," the huge figure beside him grinned foolishly. "The
ethanol really alters your perceptions, doesn't it? Just don't let those
vacuum-brained platinum-furred leeches get to you. Look on the bright
side. At least SHE isn't here."
"Oh, yesh... yes, Yuu, ol' pal. Definitely putsh a pfvine edsh to
the thinkin' proshessh." He made an effort to take command of his
tongue. "You were right. No job, no woman, no date, nothing especially
great to be happy about, it's the perfect time to start drinking." He
swept his arms about expansively, and almost fell over.
"Ah, I told you so. Anyway, you're lucky that my frat sponsored
the Foolishly-Timed Dance Party this year - the booze is first-rate." He
closed his eyes as he hefted a huge stein filled with something dark and
evil-looking to his lips, and sipped, slowly. "You certainly handled
that short bastard well. I was half-afraid he'd knock you to the sun."
Goten hmmph-ed. The exercise with the chi and his tongue was once
again temporarily neutralizing his impaired thinking. "He probably
could. But he sometimes finds himself in the mood to take care of his
younger, foolish little pal. Just like old times. He figures that,
better than beating me up to try to teach me something, he may as well
let me screw up and deal with the consequences on my own."
The big man nodded. "I see."
They watched the jiggling, bouncing, jerking flesh in the middle of
the floor. It was becoming somehow nauseating, grotesque, or perhaps it
was the drink. He was sure that he'd found at least one or two of the
females in that mass attractive just moments earlier... Perhaps the
drink allowed him to see the claws and the steel under the soft leather
and gloss exterior.
Yuu's rough voice cut into his thoughts. "You know, you can hold
your drink extremely well, especially for your first time. I could have
sworn that you were going to keel over just seconds ago, and now you're
almost perfectly coherent."
"Martial arts technique."
"Hmm. That's another technique I don't know. Hey, I didn't even
know you were into martial arts. How did you learn it?"
"Contrary to what I used to tell Trunks, I did, once get drunk,
long, long ago, when a friend of my mother's was baby-sitting me. He,
ah... Had a thing for good drink, and for pretty girls."
He tried to ignore Yuu's amused expression. "Never-mind *that* -
anyway, what happened was, he fell asleep after feeding me lunch, and I
noticed a bottle he'd been sipping from periodically. Being the young
and curious guy I was..."
"You got bombed."
"My mother would have killed him. Then me. So, to hide the
effects of the drink, he taught me a technique to nullify the effects,
for a while. It worked." Goten grinned. "I still had a massive head-
ache afterwards."
"A useful technique," Yuu nodded. "Teach it to me?"
He shook his head. "Trade secret, old boy. Besides, you could
drink under the whole student body if you felt like it as it is. The
only reason I'm still conscious is the technique. Soon, I'll be too
tired to use it, and then I will blissfully fall into a wonderfully
drunken stupor."
"That's the rightness of it, alright. Of course, you do realize
that you're going to wish you were dead tomorrow?"
"Just another part of the fun," Goten shrugged. "You know, what's
the rising champion of the martial arts world doing here without a date,
anyway? I'm sure there're lots of those sorority girls over there who'd
kill to be seen with you."
"Ah. Well, my run-in with your nasty-tempered little friend some
weeks past sort of rattled the way I thought about some things. It was a
shock, finding out how weak I was on an absolute scale."
"You were depressed." Goten was surprised.
"That's the rightness of it, too." He took a long pull of that
stuff, the odor of which caused Goten to wince. "I broke up my fan club,
and told them to leave me alone. I see now that it was just a
distraction from the Art. I used the more sincere members of what was
left of my fan club afterwards to sort of put out a general word that I
was not to be approached for any reason by any of the usual chicks who
wanted to up their popularity by being seen with me. It was a hollow
honor anyway, none of them really liked me."
Goten tilted his head to look up at his new-found drinking buddy.
"You know, you are a lot more normal, and a lot less obnoxious than you
seem from the general behavior you display most of the time."
Yuu guffawed. "Of course! My personality is profoundly
imbalanced, is it not? It's perfect! But the self I show to my adoring
public, the self I show when I fight, that's not the self that's really
me, you see?" His face broke, and he looked oddly tragic, with a
comically unhappy expression of pain. "There's the self that's over-
bearing and supremely confident, that self is the self that wins the
tournaments, that's the self that can use his mania to project and
magnify his normally meager chi. The other self gets pissed off while
it's not in control, it sees and hears, but it can do nothing while the
wild part is having its way. Then, alone at night, when gloomy emotions
and heavy chi empowers it enough, that submerged self takes over and is
angered at its helplessness."
His voice turned somber. "Sometimes, I wonder what will happen if
those two selves ever fight it out. It would be a choice between losing
my martial arts prowess, and losing any degree of stability I've got and
descending fully into my madness."
Goten peered at him curiously. "Are you serious? So which self is
in control now?"
Yuu started laughing, almost lost his breath. "Would you believe,
I have no idea? It's as though I'm a bystander in my head, watching
these two giants fighting in my dreams... Or maybe," he winked at Goten,
"maybe I'm just kidding you, and I'm really a snide, conniving bastard,
fooling everyone from behind my two masks, the mask of the idiot, and the
mask of the bonafide samurai warrior! Or maybe I am completely nuts, and
it's the drink that stabilizes me!" He shook his head. "And since you
are steadily getting drunk, neither you nor I will be able to tell!
Isn't it fantastic? Problems just don't matter as much at a party -
especially at this one. It's the entire point of the Foolishly-Timed
Dance Party - you might have midterms the next day, your mother might
have died this morning, but while the party's on it is the only thing in
the universe that exists."
"Is that the major philosophy of your life?"
"A large part of it."
"Say, are those friends of yoursh... yours?" Goten slapped his
cheeks a little, noting the slightly numb sensation.
He shook his head. "Don't you recognize their outfits, their
style, those big black suits with the boring ties and the cheap shades?
The sour demeanor?"
"Not really."
"They're the casual gangster-types who get upset because I never
throw my fights."
"Really? You have problems with those?"
"Yup." He put aside his drink as the approaching men squared their
shoulders. "Feel up to a little brawl?"
Goten shrugged, "There's always room for jello."
Yuu stood, a cheerful expression on his face as he sized up the
opposition (who were actually even bigger than he was - they were half
again as wide across the shoulders). Together, they probably weighed
more than his car. And Yuu prided himself on the size of his... car. He
felt a little offended that these two were so large, but it didn't show
in his expression. "Gentlemen?"
"We'z given ya enuff warnings, Mr. Yo. Yer not gonna win yer fight
this Saturday, got it?"
"I doth always win my fights." Yuu shook his head sideways, his
grin getting wider.
"Ya know B, I don' think dis guy iz taking us seriously."
"Why, Mr. D, I do tink, yer right."
Fuzzily, Goten started to differentiate the two. 'D' was the one
with the unhealthy spattering of red splotches across his cheeks, while
'B' had obvious stretch marks around his massive bull-neck, probably from
implants. A faint pain was starting to tug somewhere behind Goten's left
eye.
The two nodded, pounding their fists together in unison with an
audible 'clank.' "Ya see, Mr. Champion, we ain'tcher normal competition.
We're here to make sure ya do th' right thing." 'B' laid his hands on
the bar, and the smooth, heavy construction steel creaked as it started
to crumple beneath irresistible force.
Yuu turned to his inebriated friend. "Why, Mr. Son, I doth believe
that these two artificially-enhanced mundanes art trying to frighten
us... Shall we show them the error of their ways and apply the harsh rod
of correction that they might not repeat such a dreadful mistake?" His
grin was nasty, and for a moment, his pupils were lost in a flash of
light. The slow, steady flow of blood through his veins and arteries
accelerated, thunder moving through the great heart in Yuu's powerful
chest.
"We really shouldn't, I mean, we're wearing these nice suits, and
my head's feeling a might tender and..." Goten thought about it. Today
had just been a completely horrible day. In nearly every way possible.
She'd been cold - a hard, jagged quality to her voice. Something
he hadn't thought she'd be capable of. "You just don't cut it, Goten.
Don't take it badly, everyone else had a good laugh." And he couldn't
not take it badly, he thought. Not with the way she laughed
afterwards... Like breaking glass.
It would feel good to inflict pain on someone else, for a change,
he thought. "What the Hell. Let's do it!" He bounced to his feet, and
lurched, accidentally knocking down the chairs about them.
'B' turned to his companion. "D, dese guys just don' know what's
good for 'em."
'D' smashed a broad, black-gloved fist the size (and approximate
weight) of a very, very large mallet into Yuu's jaw.
Yuu was knocked flying, crashing against a nearby table.
'B' kicked Goten with what felt like a steel-toed boot, except, at
that velocity, it was more like a heavy projectile launched from a modern
battleship's rail-gun, in the solar plexus. When he doubled over, the
big man slammed his clasped fists against Goten's back. Goten's knees
were almost driven through the floor, a large web of cracks suddenly
appearing about his crouching body.
This happened in the dark split-second while the flashing strobes
were off, between the beats of the song that was playing ('Kung Fu
Fighting' by Carl Douglas).
"Gee, I thought the champ would be tougher than that," 'D' sneered
as he approached Yuu's fallen form.
"He is." Goten didn't quite see what Yuu did (I must be really
drunk not to notice, he thought) but Yuu's voice was mocking as there was
a faint blur, and this time, 'D' was flung hard into the ground, more
cracks appearing in the floor.
Yuu rose to his feet, a crazed expression on his face as he licked
the blood off of his lips. His fists were glowing. "Dost thou know, Mr.
D... Canst I call thou that, D? I have always wanted to try out a
certain technique I did indeed see in a certain cartoon from long, long
ago. I vaguely remember that the name of that move had something to do
with chestnuts," his hands suddenly started to *move* - "I don't suppose
thou couldst help me figure out why?"
As he heard the sound of bones breaking, 'B' started to turn from
Goten to aid his friend. That was when the teenage half-alien chose to
peer up at his opponent, and smile. It was a disturbingly innocent
smile, and it confused 'B' immensely.
Goten straightened, and playfully shoved at 'B' with the palm of
his left hand.
'B' staggered back, making a large, butt-shaped dent in the side of
the bar. His expression was incredulous. "Impossible! I've killed
fully-enhanced cyber-mercs with those two blows!" he sputtered.
Goten sauntered over to him, swaying a little with each step.
"Really? Maybe that combo could use some improvement... Why don't I
show you how? It's like this! A one..."
With a jaunty half-step forward, Goten kicked out. The impact
caused 'B' to fly up in a trajectory that would have continued on through
the ceiling, except that Goten was already there.
"... and a - TWO!!!"
The second blow smashed the by-then unconscious 'B' through the
already weakened floor, to land with a loud splash in the swimming pool
underneath.
"Touch!" Goten landed softly, a thumbs-up for Yuu, who was
carrying 'B' effortlessly on his shoulder.
He had been careful to soften his attacks as much as he possibly
could, but Goten was a little worried when he noticed the floor. "Gee, I
hope I didn't hit him too hard..."
Yuu casually threw what was left of 'D' down through the same hole.
He tossed his arm around Goten's shoulder, an introspective look on his
face. "Nah. They build so much armor into these guys, he'll be fine,
tho' he will have a tremendous back-pain when he wakes up. Still, cy-
tech can only develop so quickly..."
They noticed the group of people gawking at them and murmuring
about them. Goten noticed Trunks' irritated expression. The annoyance
on his own face disappeared when he saw the concern in Ami's. Oh yeah...
I'm not supposed to know how to fight... He grunted to Yuu, "We seem to
have attracted a crowd."
"Must be our fantastic good looks!" Yuu tossed back the rest of
his drink, which had stayed miraculously undisturbed during the fight.
"Uh, yeah, but..."
"Yeah, yeah, I know. I was a little suprised when I saw you
fighting myself." Yuu bowed extravagantly, and continued loudly, "Thank
you, thank you! Remember to watch me take on our rivals from the EVIL
Lucas Tech University this Saturday! We can't lose! See, even a few
moments of training under," he slammed his hand against the broad expanse
of his pectorals, "ME, have been enough to make my friend here," he
pounded Goten's back in a friendly way, "a veritable juggernaut of
unstoppable righteous fury!!! We can't lose this tournament! Applaud
for Goten's new-found martial arts prowess!!"
The audience clapped weakly. Goten noticed the huge beads of sweat
on the brows of the sorority girly-girl group... HER friends. He felt
much better, somehow. He wondered how this affected his official P-point
rating, if at all?
Yuu turned back to Goten, still speaking for the benefit of the
crowd, "Come faithful side-kick, methinks it is time once again to go
forth and fight the evil that doth fester on the streets of our fair
city!"
Goten could see Trunks shaking his head.
He knew that he shouldn't but... Yuu's mood seemed infectious, and
his problems seemed a lot smaller now. He grinned. He'd gotten along
without her very well before... he could do it again. "Oh, Hell, why
not?" He made his voice louder, caught up by the buoyant invincibility
he felt, and too, he wanted to wow the crowd a little. "Alas, friend
Yuu... I am much exhausted from the difficult battle, but I know a
worthy ally for you in your pursuit of justice!" He waved his arms
expansively. "The Great Saiyaman III is nearby! It is to him that you
can go for help!"
"The Great Saiyaman III!!!" The crowd cheered and tittered and
ooh-ed and aah-ed.
"Oh, please..." muttered Trunks.
Yuu was a little baffled at this point. "Wha-wha-at?"
"Just jump down the hole with me..." Goten whispered.
"Oh, yes... I mean, YES! Of course, friend Goten! The aid of the
illustrious Great Saiyaman III would be of much help indeed!!!" He
whispered fiercely "I hope you know what you're doing!"
"Trust me..." To the crowd, Goten spoke, "Hark! I do indeed see
him! He's down there!" He pointed down the hole, and jumped in,
dragging a surprised Yuu with him.
The crowd rushed forward to peer through the hole, but were forced
back by a brilliant flash of light.
"Look! The Great Saiyaman III is carrying Yuu out!" "Eeeee! He's
so dreamy!" "The two hunkiest men on the campus!!!" "Wow, I wish I
looked that cool..." Some shouted, some pointed, many stared, and not a
few drooled, while a small number whispered mischievously, "Say, are
those two gay?"
Dark glasses on, Goten's glowing form saluted the cheering crowd,
and flew out the window, a silent and pale-faced Yuu clutching at his
hand and hanging onto it, his knuckles white as bone. "I go now, in the
name of truth, honor and jusht... justice!" The voice of the somewhat
intoxicated avenger of all that's swell in the world faded into the
winds, to the soothing (but incomprehensible) lyrics of 'Louie-Louie.'
"I don't believe he just did that..." Trunks' expression was
somewhere between bewilderment, awe, and amusement.
Ami mumbled, "Isn't he going to get into trouble with his brother
for this?"
Nik cut in, "What are you two talking about?"
Anju rolled her eyes, and dragged him back onto the dance floor.
"Something you don't need to know about."
Trunks 'nnnh-ed.' "It is a good thing Gohan isn't here... It's
hard enough to maintain anonymity without stupid stunts like that!"
Source of amusement gone, the crowd dissipated quickly.
---
Mental preparations finished, she cleared away an empty space in
the middle of her room. She clasped her hands together, sank into a
lotus position, and closed her eyes.
A faint blue started to emanate from behind her eyes, and as the
glow intensified, she rose a foot off of the ground. A steady breeze
blew her long, flowing hair back.
Abruptly, the light disappeared, and her body fell to the ground,
deathly still. Her vision was blurred, as though looking through a half-
remembered dream, but her form felt free, utterly free of all physical
limits. The very essence of who she was stepped out into the night sky,
and flew.
It was a terrible freedom, she knew. She did not want to think
about what he was doing now, did not want to think about what he was
thinking... what he thought about her.
---
"Such a waste of power..." a faint voice murmured, softly.
Too softly for anyone to hear, except somehow, by some strange
chance, the breeze from Goten's departure carried the words to Trunks'
ears. His shoulders stiffened. Since hearing the full story from Anju,
he was suspicious of anyone who seemed to know too much about them.
"Trunks, what is it? Are you worried about Goten? Even drunk, he
can't really get hurt anyway, right?" Ami wondered aloud.
"Eh? Oh... Ya, he's going to be fine. We're very, very difficult
to hurt." He quickly scanned the crowd, battle senses aroused. He
seemed to catch a faint, generally raised level of chi in the room...
There was someone who masked chi extraordinarily well. That person must
have arrived moments before Goten had streaked away, or he would have
noticed sooner. Goten's power had masked this person's entry, and now,
whoever it was had too much skill to be found easily. "Damn... where's
Gohan and Yamcha?"
"What are you worried about?" She could tell when he was
distracted.
"Ah... probably nothing." At least, he hoped he was just being
paranoid. But the feeling that there was a strong presence hiding itself
stayed at the back of his head, and he kept his senses focussed on Anju.
Nothing's going to hurt anyone here if I can help it...
"She dances quite well, doesn't she?" Ami watched them, amused at
Nik's tortured expression as he tried to keep up with her. I still
remember the last time he and I... but it's better to forget about that.
Trunks missed the momentary look of sadness on her face. Which
both irritated, and relieved her. "Nik," she whispered.
"THERE," he murmured, noticing someone moving for Anju. He stood,
and started to head for them as well. "Ami, wait here a moment, please."
"What's wrong?" She said, but he was already too far. "Trunks no
baka." She shook her head.
The figure was dressed in baggy white slacks and a black polo
shirt. Wore round dark glasses, and had a mane of silky black hair. He
carried himself awkwardly, as if uncomfortable with his own body.
As he closed the distance, Trunks relaxed. There was no sense of
danger coming from the student. The guy looks as young as Anju, thought
Trunks. And he doesn't move like an assassin... I must be getting
paranoid. There was nothing of the warrior about him.
He was more sure when he saw the new guy trip on his own feet as he
was walking towards the middle of the dance floor.
Relieved, Trunks turned to get a drink for Ami.
The subject of Trunks' quick examination bumped into Anju as he
struggled to his feet.
"Sorry... excuse me, please." The tall stranger's voice was
smooth, and whatever irritated response Anju had been about to hurl at
him died in her throat when she saw his face.
"B-beautiful..." She muttered. No. It was something more.
Something about this man drew her... drew her powerfully. She was aware
of her brightly flushed cheeks, and was grateful for the concealing
lights of the disco. She worked at steadying her voice. "No...
problem."
"I've always been a klutz. My name's Mikeru. Kasama Mikeru. I'm
new here, ahh..." The look she gave him was starting to make him
nervous.
It was a look Nik noticed, and he did not know what to think about
it. He extended his hand to the stranger. "Hi, my name is Nik Santini."
They shook hands, and that snapped Anju out of the trance.
God, if Trunks saw what I just did, he'd tease me to death for
sure. "Hi... My name is Mishima Anju." She shook hands with him as
well. And promptly got lost in the sensations... There was a feeling of
grasping fire, and she almost gasped. His skin was smooth, perfectly
smooth. And the fine bones and musculature underneath were as hard as
steel. She briefly wondered if he was a full-conversion job, but he was
too fluidly... perfect, to be cybernetic. Plus, he was too clumsy in
movement.
She abruptly released his hand, realizing that she'd been staring
again.
Nik tried to get past the seeming awkwardness about the situation.
"Ahh... You're a transfer student?"
"Yes. Nekomi Tech. I wasn't sure if coming to this party was a
good idea or not, but... I needed to get away from my... studies. For
a while." Mikeru noticed the way that Anju glanced at him, and almost
flinched. "Well, ah... Perhaps I'll be seeing you some time. I'm...
not a party person anyway." He fumbled with the words.
"Wouldn't you like to have a drink with us?" What am I saying?
First Nik, and now this total stranger! What's wrong with me?
He shook his head. "I've... really got to be going. It was nice
meeting you, Ms. Mishima, Mr. Santini." He turned away.
Nik cleared his throat when he was out of earshot. "You can stop
ogling him now."
Startled, Anju reddened again, facing Nik, and noting the slow
music that had just started playing, placed her hands on his shoulders,
and started dancing, slowly. "Ah... I wasn't, ah... ogling him..."
"Ri-iiight." Nik sighed. I wonder what Ami's doing?
He stiffened as she rested her head against his chest. "Wh-what?"
"'m sorry." Her voice was muffled. "I don't know what came over
me... There's something weird about that guy, I don't know what."
"Weird, huh?" He tried to ignore the scent of lilacs in her hair.
"Perfectly innocent! Ah... He looked familiar. Come on, I mean,
if a girl who looked exactly like Ami," she noticed him jerking a little
at that, "suddenly came up to you, you tell me you wouldn't do the same."
"Well. I." He sighed. "So who is this guy, anyway? Who does he
remind you of?"
She murmured, still leaning against him, "I'm not sure... But I'm
certain I've met him before somehow..."
---
In relief, Mikeru shut the door to his apartment, and slid down
against the side, clutching his head. "God... I did not think THAT was
going to happen... I did not think it would get this complicated."
The sound of ice clinking down into glasses disturbed his thoughts.
"You know, I've noticed that's your problem. Sometimes, you just don't
think. You should have stayed away."
"Bulma... I do not need to hear it. I just... just needed to
check on her."
"I know. Just came here to make sure you were settled in fine."
She sipped at her drink, put her glass down. "Or make that, I wasn't
here, and wasn't checking on you. You owe them a lot of pain, Mr.
Kasama. Don't screw up their lives any longer."
She walked out, flanked by her newly-hired guards. Guards she'd
hired based on his recommendations.
Finally alone, he shut off the lights, and sighed.
---
Many beat-up muggers and would-be rapists later, the two sat in a
convenient night-club, taking a break. There was some girl with green
hair singing, and she wasn't on key much of the time, but that wasn't why
the customers liked to watch her.
"You're like Trunks, aren't you?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean... you're in a class of fighting that's like... I mean,
you could have probably given that green monster, whatshisname, Cell?
You coulda probably given him a decent fight, huh?"
"Well... Probably."
Yuu sighed. "So how many of you really tough guys are there,
anyway?"
"I don't know, actually. The ones I personally know who are as
tough or stronger than me... let's see, there are about half a dozen of
us."
He sighed again. "Man, I feel like I should just give up! I'm
never going to be that strong!" He glumly rubbed at his tired eyes.
"Give up the Art? No man, stick with it. I'm familiar with that
feeling," he said, thinking about Trunks. "It's true that there's always
going to be someone out there who's stronger, but that's no reason to
quit! The Art is a way of life, it's not just about being the
strongest..."
"Yeah, yeah. I know." He leaned back in his chair. "Do people
really not recognize you with those shades? I mean... Good lord, you
didn't even change clothes. You just put on dark glasses, and voila,
nobody recognizes that the Great Saiyaman III is actually Son Goten?"
Goten nodded. "Don't understand it myself, actually."
"What a strange phenomenon. So, like, if you put your shades back
on right now, people would realize that the Great Saiyaman III was
suddenly in their midst?"
"You saw what happened at the dance." He shrugged. "I can't
explain it."
Yuu could only nod.
"Hey, look, a big-shot's entourage. This place must be more high-
class than I thought."
"Huh?"
"See those average-sized guys with the average faces, average
builds, and non-descript clothing? The ones that just came in? They're
scouting the place for explosives and firearms, making sure it's safe for
their employer... yeah, that's him." Yuu indicated a tall, slender man
about fifty-years old. Well-dressed, graceful... One of the rare people
who can actually use a swagger stick and make it look natural.
"How do you know all this?"
"I told you. Gangster-types sometimes bet on my fights, and
sometimes, I've got to deal with them to let them know that I like to be
left alone."
"Huh. Funny." Goten fought to keep his eyes open. "I'm getting
really tired. I should be getting home soon... Fighting back the
effects of all that alcohol I drank is pretty draining."
"Well... let's each have just one more drink. For the road,
y'know."
Goten sighed. "Fine. Just one more couldn't possibly give me a
worse head-ache than the one I know I'm already going to have tomorrow."
---
No! No! He's here! Of all the night-clubs around, he had to be
HERE!
Okay, fine. I must stay calm. I still have a job to finish...
Oh, Goten... you look like crap... How much have you been
drinking? Did... did I do this to you? Oh no...
I resist the urge to go to him... Touch his face. I have to steel
myself. Have to do this quickly. I've been following the target for too
long, and I can not maintain this spirit-walk for much longer. I must
strike NOW. They wanted this buffoon's death to be public - it was a
test to see if I still had the touch... I've got to do it... Or they'll
hurt Ami...
Just like it used to be... Easy, quick. The thunder builds in my
head, I block of the artery, and... and the target dies.
I must have grown stronger since the last time... I do not feel
much too tired by the exertion. Some years ago, I would be completely
exhausted by now.
The man dies even as his men desperately try to resuscitate him.
Ah, Goten... Don't bother, my dear hero... There's nothing even
you can do for him. I wish I didn't have to do this, but he's dead,
and... Ah, no! NOOOOO! It's impossible!
I've got to get out of here!!! Oh God... Haru, why's all this
happening to me? I've got to get out of here!!!
---
"Shit! Goten, let's get outta here before the cops arrive! It
would be Hell on your image if the Great Saiyaman were found here at the
location of this guy's death!" He noticed Goten's wide, wide eyes. A
fierce trembling in his lips. "Goten, come ON! We've got to get out of
here! No one recognizes you now, but they're going to start asking some
uncomfortable questions if we stay!"
Yuu bodily forced Goten to his feet, and dragged him out, even as
the victim's guards shouted orders, desperately called for an ambulance.
"M... Mari... I... saw..." He couldn't stop shaking. He
couldn't think. He could barely breathe.
---
end episode 13
Okay, it's been a while since episode 12. What do you people out there
think about all this? C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, I could really use some
C&C...
Nikholas F. Toledo Zu @ http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Flats/3145/mezza9.html
Vector, Switch, Yebah, Don Juan, goo, Pervert, Scruples, Hollie, NomaD,
Blitz, Gee, Datzo, Jewel, Elf, Radler, Pinball, Mayhem
Fanfiction @ http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Flats/3145/fanfics.html
Warp Zone @ http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Flats/3145/thirteen.html
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The logo of the Church of All Worlds is nine concentric circles.
Word from the Laity: Wipe yer feet! Bloody 'ell...
http://www.geocities.com/SoHo/Gallery/3145/index.html
Currently under construction... confessional at the links.
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