Hey Guys! It's Ruebo, I'm so glad to be able to post again. Things have been crazy-busy my way. I hope you enjoy this story profusely. Please feel free to leave a review or send me a private message. I'm actually working on several other stories as well. I'm currently open to requests. What are you wonderful people of FF interested in reading? ^-^ As always, thank you all so much for taking the time to read this story. I'm still experimenting with different view points of view, particularly children.
I still think about it a lot. Whether it was a dream or real life; I'm still not sure. It was cold there. Not the skin deep kind, either, like snowflakes melting on your cheeks. It was like the sun couldn't stand the sight of what Buu did to Earth and turned its back on us. It's funny sitting here at mom's rickety old desk. The pen I'm holding, this chair, mom's scratch writing on her chalkboard—it was all gone. I was gone. Buu annihilated it—all of us.
"En."
Dad didn't have to say anything. He never does. It's like performing some sort of weird translation. Mom's a master at it . My nose has been buried in this paper for twenty minutes too long. My neck is really stiff, like I slept too hard. It hurts me to look up at him.
"Uh, hey dad," I said before my gut bubbled at his black eyes, " I'm sorry, I'm late!"
My pen slipped from my fingers and bounced on my homework. The legs of my chair screeched against the floor.
"Late?," he shook his head. I expected a grumpy huff, but I guessed wrong.
"Sit down boy. It's only a quarter after."
The blue clock on mom's desk ticked in my ears. The sound was obnoxious and distracting. The hands on the clock pointed to six-twenty-five. It was just another annoying reminder. Their arms were like accusing fingers pointed at me.
Sweat made my hair stick to my forehead. I have to look at dad's eyes, or at least pretend to. Sometimes I look straight through him. He knows, I think. He crossed his arms like always. His skewed shadow on the wall mimicked him. The yellow light shaded the hard edges of his face.
Even if shadows are a part of nature, they're spooky at best. The shadow is a head taller than my dad, and its shoulders are twice as broad. I'm not a little kid anymore. I know it's just an optical illusion, but I can't help but wonder. Just think about it. A shadow follows you around all day, just out of sight. It hides in broad daylight. It's an ugly reminder of what's buried deep within. Sometimes I think it's the other version of you. The one people don't get to see. For dad, that's not completely true. I saw it in that big black 'M' on his forehead, like some kind of curse etched into his skin.
The first thing I remember is the sound. It was unbearable and loud. It's almost indescribable. It didn't sound like an explosion, like in my favorite video game. It was like a jet engine whirring in my head. The hot air burned my face. The skin of my neck cracked and my eyes split inside their sockets. Mom's arms disintegrated around my shoulders. Then it was black. The ringing in my ears stopped. There was nothing; I was nothing. I fell for a long time, but there was no abrupt stop at the end. I don't actually recall hitting the bottom of that hole, if it was a hole.
"Mom? Where are you?"
The echo of my voice answered me. The darkness chewed me up and spit me back out. The ground was unstable, like black fog beneath my feet.
"Hello, hello, hello, hello…"
It appeared in the distance. There was something darker moving among the stagnant air. It had weight and a presence, more than a shifting shadow that might be seen out of the corner of an eye. There was no face, but I felt its eyes looking at me.
"Mom, is it you?"
No it wasn't— not even close. It edged closer.
"Who's there?"
It took everything I had to steady my voice. My lungs and heart were racing against me. They won. I couldn't catch either, couldn't even come close.
"Do I look like your mother?," It chuckled.
Blood flushed my face, but my skin was cold— as cold as death.
It looked like a man, matching the scratchy voice. It walked closer, but I wasn't going to be fooled. There was a smooth quality of his voice. I heard 'no nonsense'. I'm still not sure if he was amused or offended.
Buu sounded like a child, but was a monster wrapped in silly pink goop. He looked like a three-year-old's doodle in chunky pink crayon, yet he was capable of being so evil. I wasn't about to jump to conclusions about this stranger.
He stopped a few steps away from me. An obscure sheen of light revealed the outline of his face. The air lightened, and I could think straight again. It was his muddy-red, gravity defying hair that made me think twice.
"Dad?"
"No."
There was a weird undertone in his voice.
"Mister can you hel— are you laughing?"
"What do you think?"
"Does it look like I'm trying to be funny—"
"And you must be blind, runt."
"Runt! Just because you're bigger doesn't mean I can't kick your ass."
I was sure now; he laughed. Not at what I said, but at me. His voice rumbled my chest. He threw back his head and leaned over me. The corner of his mouth turned up into something I didn't recognize. His dimpled cheeks suggested a smile, but his teeth resembled a snarling animal. His murky eyes dilated. His wild eyebrows raised on his forehead. He looked at me like grandpa's scrawny cat looking at a steak.
A tingle zipped up my spine. His icy hand latched onto my face. His fingers and thumb pressed against my teeth through the skin, like frost bite. I ripped myself from his grip. I leapt backwards to create some space between us. I didn't have to think about it. It was instinct— second nature as mom puts it. I glowed like a firework in the night sky. Static electricity cackled between us.
"It's true what they say," he whispered.
"What are you talking about? Are you going to help me or not?"
He aligned his spine, but his black marble eyes still gawked at me.
"The legend- it lives."
He stretched out his hand.
"Get away from me!"
My back cracked as I twisted around. Rushing blood flooded my eardrums. I threw myself forward, practically skipping on the toe of my boot. It was his voice and something about his oxygen consuming presence, like he held dominion over the air and this place. Everything the darkness touched was under his right hand.
"Stop. No," he scolded me like it was a minor annoyance.
My right leg sunk to my kneecap, then my other leg was devoured by the hungry floor. Someone's boney fingers clamped around my ankle, somewhere deep below in the bowels of the void.
"Don't struggle," he yawned.
The breath gurgled from my lips as I sunk to my belly button. It was like being trapped in heavy wet snow, except it's whimsical beauty was lost and replaced with hatred of all things pure. My ears dipped below the sludge. He threw his shoulders back. There wasn't any haste; he strolled to me like it was a walk in the park. My arms struggled to skim the surface.
"Daddy, please!," I cried, while the dark matter spilled over the corners of my mouth, and into my cheeks.
His footsteps rumbled the pit. It was a squishy sound, like maggots wriggling in rancid meat. His hand was coarse and firm. The muddy pit let me go, but kept my shoes.
My skin writhed from the suction. The pit babbled as darkness filled the hole left from my body.
"You're hurting me!"
"You'll be fine runt," he said as he squeezed my bicep.
"Put me down!"
"Have you learned nothing? I'm not your blasted father."
He lowered my feet to the ground, but his hand held my wrist hostage.
"You better let me go asshole."
"His grip made my fingers tingle and fall numb, super Saiyan or not.
"Silence. Not another word. That'll do!"
"But—"
"But nothing," he interrupted me," Step exactly where I do. Follow me."
There was no asking, he jerked me along, pulling my arm in its socket. It was no use. I didn't want to go back down there. Never ever, ever again. The current of energy dissipated around me. My bangs fell back on my forehead, purple as ever.
Boredom reared itself. I started counting my steps; I reached two-thousand and seventy- one. Who knows how many there were before I started counting.
"And where do you think you're taking me?"
"Your mouth… you're just like your father. Why did the Gods have to give both of you Raksasha's mouth!"
"Who the hell are you mister?"
He stopped dead in his tracks.
"Hell… how ironic. Yemma said you'd be difficult, but can you please, for the love of the moon shut up and let me get you out of here!"
"Someone sent you to help me?"
" I will not even grace that with an answer."
"You coulda fooled me. I would have never thought this would be considered help."
"And I never thought you would be… be so purple."
"You don't know me! You're just some weird smelly douche-hole."
"Boo, runt. I expected better wit from you."
"Wit? You seriously just didn't—"
"Well I did, and you didn't do shit about it. Don't open your mouth with such unworthy insults."
"Oh yeah mister… you suck!"
"How about this: 'Sire allow me to express my gratitude. I'm an impulsive little shit ankle biter, who would have never found my way out of here otherwise'."
"Oh."
"I'm not budging. Your mother can wait. It's not like she doesn't have eternity you know."
"Wait, you know where my mom is?"
He just ignored me, and I didn't have any patience left.
"Thanks."
"Try again."
"Look—"
"This isn't that hard."
"Sir, thank you for your help," I painfully rattled off before holding my breath, " But am I dead?"
At first I thought he didn't hear me. His head cocked over his shoulder. His eyes batted with confusion, but he refused to look at me.
"Come. You're merely lost."
"Huh?"
"Tell me, what do you remember?"
"Stuff."
I had no intention of digging it out of myself. The confusion stung my head like angry hornets.
"No whimpering. The blood in your veins cry out to me for such an offense. Remember the proud race you belong to."
I couldn't hold it. His words made it worse. All I could think of is dad and the odd stranger I was stuck with.
"Okay."
The back of my hands grew wet with salty tears. He kept on tugging me and I kept walking. A white light glimmered in the distance. The small fleck of light warmed my face like laughter.
"Do you see that!"
"Oh, yeah," he pretended to be interested.
He wasn't excited in the least. The growing swirl of light burned my eyes. I hid my face behind his back.
"Where are we?"
"The end. Go on now," he said.
"Don't leave me!"
"Be valiant, so I won't be forced to curse your father for giving you his mother's soft blood!"
"Geez. Sorry. What do I do?"
"Go."
"Where?"
He ushered me forward with his hand against my back. He turned to me with his eyebrows raised.
"Do you see her? Your mother?"
There she was in the haze of light, sitting quietly by a tree covered in pink flowers. I couldn't believe it.
"Yeah! Yeah, there she is!"
I stepped forward ready to leave the void behind forever, until it hit me.
"Hey, aren't you coming?"
I tugged his hand, but he let it fall carelessly by his side.
"No," he hummed.
"I'm sorry."
"Forget it. Just get out of my sight. I can't bear to look at you—your father's damn face."
"If you hate my dad so much, then why did you bother to help me!"
"Hate? No. Get out of my sight."
I drug myself away before the last words hit me.
"Ankle biter…"
"Thank you, really," I turned around.
The darkness hid his face.
"Good bye, Densetsu no Ranto."
"What?"
"Do I have to light a fire beneath your ass? Go. The time keeper is not generous."
"Who?"
"Go!," he ordered and pointed.
"Oh, right."
The distraction, unfortunately, was real. I let the portal take me.
"Trunks...Trunks!"
"Oh, wha—"
"What are you staring at?"
It always happens like this. His voice sends my zoned out brain back to reality, and I sit here with this painfully dumb look on my face.
"Um, nothing really, just you… sorta… what were we talking about?"
My face is blazing hot, but not with anger. I have decided right now, this very second is a good time to pick at my chipped fingernail that I managed to leave alone all day long.
"Funny. The dragon balls are missing from your mother's vault—"
"Did you check the radiation safe vault?"
I tried. I really did.
"Would I be asking you about it if I hadn't looked? I know you were the last one down there."
"Are you sure grandpa didn't just go downstairs and forget to close—"
"When did I say the door wasn't closed. You've got ten seconds to explain yourself. Your mother's birthday is in two weeks. I'll be damned if I have to find them… again."
"I just meant to say that maybe grandpa forgot to tell mom he took them out. Maybe for his molecular storage theory?"
It's rare that I see dad so perplexed.
"Come to think of it. He was yapping about something earlier," he said.
I can't believe it's working. I almost think he's fond of turning his back to people; he makes it look easy.
"If you do see them, be sure to return them to your mother or I."
Dad can make the phase 'fluffy bunny fru-fru' sound menacing.
"Sure, but to answer your question, no I didn't do anything with them."
"If I wanted you to lie to me, I would have asked you directly."
Asked…wait.
"Dad."
"What now?"
"Densetsu no Ranto."
He whipped around as fast as the valves of my heart can contract.
"Densetsu no Ranto—what exactly does it mean?"
"Where did you hear that?"
"Um, you said it in your sleep, yeah."
"Runt of legend," he answered.
The insult wasn't shocking, but the weird endearing voice I heard in my head was. I guess I should put the dragon balls back. I haven't decided for sure yet. I'll probably be caught, but I can find them again for Mom's cruise. I only know one thing for sure. I picked a terrible hiding place; what a horrible thing to sit on.