"Retrospect"
by Acey
Disclaimer: If I owned DBZ, Cell would've died long before reaching his perfect form. Needless to say, I do not own DBZ, Coca-Cola, or Hershey's.
Author's Note: Juunana-gou is Seventeen in Japanese. Similarly, Juuhachi- gou is Eighteen. The word jinzouningen means "artificial human," and the Tenkaichi Budokai is the World Martial Arts Tournament. I did not make any of that up. It is all Japanese.
Thwack.
Thwack.
Juunana-gou set down his ax and admired his work. Two chops, and he hadn't even gotten halfway through the black walnut tree. Yes, by Hector, he had a right to be proud of himself; he who could have felled fifteen of those massive things with a single backhand, had he wanted to. He smiled suddenly, his face creasing into its familiar mocking smirk. Oh, that smirk had gotten him into more trouble one day ten years ago than most people received in a lifetime. But then, Juunana-gou had never claimed to be most people.
He was reverse training, an idiotic term for an idiotic thing to do, as Vegeta would likely put it. Juunana-gou didn't care. He hadn't seen the Saiyajin prince in so long that; had it not been for his famous jinzouningen's perfect memory; he would have forgotten all about him. No, he thought, easily suppressing a laugh, no one in their right mind could ever forget Vegeta; having met him. Vegeta was all royalty. He defined the Napoleon complex, the poor little man. Had Juunana-gou any human emotions left, he would have almost pitied the prince without a people. Almost.
This reverse training was his newest diversion. He'd had several since the Cell Games: building and furnishing his cabin, managing to keep it using only poker-playing skills (how he knew how to play cards was completely beyond him, but somehow he wound up with the winning hand and all the chips every time). Now it was just as simple, in fact, more so. His new distraction, to cut down the entirety of his overgrown piece of forest using minimal, human (he figured-- hard to tell when the only humans he had known at all happened to be capable of flight, ki blasts-- weak ones, of course, but still ki blasts-- ) strength. It was a bit more challenging than the other two projects. In poker, all you needed was an ever-clear head and a lot of luck. Juunana-gou had both. You didn't have to be an interior decorator type to furnish a house, either; he'd found, as long as you weren't picky and had half a grain of common sense. The reverse training gave him something to keep his mind on-- 'human strength, you idiot, human strength. I kind of doubt the woodsmen over here being able to half-fell a tree like this with two hits-- there you go. Like that. No--'
"Stupid," he muttered, more to himself than to the giant tree a foot away from him. He'd overestimated the tree's roots to the ground, struck at it too hard. It was infuriating. After all this time, the whole miserable decade, he still couldn't even control his own power. "Stupid."
Juunana-gou tossed his ax aside and left the forest area-- or what was left of it, anyway, after the jinzouningen had declared it his home. Methodically he retraced his steps, taken a full two hours before, to his three-room cabin, a place which was a bit less isolated, at least until the hunting season came around, and it always seemed to come around too soon for Juunana-gou's preferences. He didn't mind the gunshots; it was the hunters themselves that bothered him, coming in with their brash attitudes and I-own-this-spot mentalities. He hadn't showed up in front of them (though he'd very dearly like to) while they were waiting patiently for their own prey yet, but there were times that if he hadn't been trying unsuccessfully to beat Gero's programming; there would not have been a prayer to be said that could save those grizzled, hardened hunters.
He opened the makeshift door into what passed for a kitchen, searching, mildly depressed, for a shred of food from the last time he'd been to the nearby town. He didn't need to eat, really; he just enjoyed it on occasion and kept it should he want it, like a human with a favorite champagne. Right now all that was left from his grocery spree three months before that wasn't rancid were an unopened pack of Coca-Cola cans and a few bars of Hershey's chocolate. He poured America's favorite soft drink into a glass and unwrapped the chocolate bar, deciding that if the humans really had done anything halfway useful in their existence, that it was for the discovery of how to make chocolate, that and nothing else.
A few moments later, he came to the realization that he had come to the last piece of his candy, and only three of what had once been a six- pack of Coke cans remained. 'Great, worst has really come to worst. I'm eating like a Saiyajin here.'
It was the perfect irony, unconsciously imitating the race he'd have destroyed had a purple-haired time traveler not gotten in the way. If destiny ruled life, irony ruled destiny. Grumbling, he attributed it to having too much of a good thing lying around. He'd have to cut down; otherwise the poker money would run out and he'd have to count on his luck again for more. 'Goku, I'm blaming you for this one.'
Surprised he still knew the name, Juunana-gou threw the soft drink cans and foil Hershey's wrappers away and turned his thoughts over to the Doctor's old nemesis. It must've been some grudge for the withered old man to waste so many androids on killing that one person, only one of which ever even accomplished the mission. Juunana-gou couldn't see the point of disliking Goku any; it seemed from what he'd heard that it was hard to stay mad at him. He figured that destroying an entire army single-handedly at the age of twelve gave you a few enemies. But Goku-- Hector, even he, Juunana-gou, could see that the man didn't wish harm on anyone. He was like a grown-up kid, for crying out loud, naive, good-natured, gullible. Juuhachi-gou had mentioned him once or twice in her infrequent visits to her brother's house, how he and everyone else around that could actually pose a threat at the Tenkaichi Budokai a few years ago had all run off to go chasing some monster, expecting her to win the tournament for them.
"You did win, didn't you, Sister?"
"Well, actually..."
"Don't tell me that Mr. Satan wannabe martial artist defeated Gero's perfect android," he said, trying to get her to laugh.
If possible, Juuhachi-gou had paled further than she already was.
"Oh, come on, Juuhachi! Even if you have been slacking off, there's still no way for--"
"He overpowered me."
Juunana-gou had rolled his eyes.
"I know you better than that. You threw the match, didn't you?"
"We needed the money. The rent's been stacking up, and the--"
"Juuhachi-gou! You shouldn't have. You'd have been the only female winner the Budokai's ever had."
"It was for a good cause. Hercule got his reputation saved with a capital s."
Juunana-gou idly wondered now whether his sister cared anymore about her own rep. He seriously doubted it. After she'd married Krillin and had Marron, her visits had become short, abbreviated, which had once been most unlike her. She'd once spent hours discussing the existence of ghosts with her brother. Now he was lucky if he got three semi-lengthy paragraphs out of his twin before she decided she had to leave. They'd gotten distant over the years, too distant.
He sat on his roughly-made couch and wondered if he'd been the one to change, if he'd done or said something that repelled her. Mentally he replayed every conversation they'd had since the Cell Games, an easy enough trick for the cyborg, playing them at a faster speed so it'd still be daytime when he finished. He found nothing, nothing at all in his behavior to his sister that could have turned her away. It had to have been her that had become different. He'd remained the same throughout.
Author's note: More will be on the way. I hope you liked it so far, and I hope you review if you did like it. (Or if you didn't, okay.) It's only fair to review mine if I reviewed yours. Remember that. Oh, yeah, and the thoughts are in ', just so you know.
by Acey
Disclaimer: If I owned DBZ, Cell would've died long before reaching his perfect form. Needless to say, I do not own DBZ, Coca-Cola, or Hershey's.
Author's Note: Juunana-gou is Seventeen in Japanese. Similarly, Juuhachi- gou is Eighteen. The word jinzouningen means "artificial human," and the Tenkaichi Budokai is the World Martial Arts Tournament. I did not make any of that up. It is all Japanese.
Thwack.
Thwack.
Juunana-gou set down his ax and admired his work. Two chops, and he hadn't even gotten halfway through the black walnut tree. Yes, by Hector, he had a right to be proud of himself; he who could have felled fifteen of those massive things with a single backhand, had he wanted to. He smiled suddenly, his face creasing into its familiar mocking smirk. Oh, that smirk had gotten him into more trouble one day ten years ago than most people received in a lifetime. But then, Juunana-gou had never claimed to be most people.
He was reverse training, an idiotic term for an idiotic thing to do, as Vegeta would likely put it. Juunana-gou didn't care. He hadn't seen the Saiyajin prince in so long that; had it not been for his famous jinzouningen's perfect memory; he would have forgotten all about him. No, he thought, easily suppressing a laugh, no one in their right mind could ever forget Vegeta; having met him. Vegeta was all royalty. He defined the Napoleon complex, the poor little man. Had Juunana-gou any human emotions left, he would have almost pitied the prince without a people. Almost.
This reverse training was his newest diversion. He'd had several since the Cell Games: building and furnishing his cabin, managing to keep it using only poker-playing skills (how he knew how to play cards was completely beyond him, but somehow he wound up with the winning hand and all the chips every time). Now it was just as simple, in fact, more so. His new distraction, to cut down the entirety of his overgrown piece of forest using minimal, human (he figured-- hard to tell when the only humans he had known at all happened to be capable of flight, ki blasts-- weak ones, of course, but still ki blasts-- ) strength. It was a bit more challenging than the other two projects. In poker, all you needed was an ever-clear head and a lot of luck. Juunana-gou had both. You didn't have to be an interior decorator type to furnish a house, either; he'd found, as long as you weren't picky and had half a grain of common sense. The reverse training gave him something to keep his mind on-- 'human strength, you idiot, human strength. I kind of doubt the woodsmen over here being able to half-fell a tree like this with two hits-- there you go. Like that. No--'
"Stupid," he muttered, more to himself than to the giant tree a foot away from him. He'd overestimated the tree's roots to the ground, struck at it too hard. It was infuriating. After all this time, the whole miserable decade, he still couldn't even control his own power. "Stupid."
Juunana-gou tossed his ax aside and left the forest area-- or what was left of it, anyway, after the jinzouningen had declared it his home. Methodically he retraced his steps, taken a full two hours before, to his three-room cabin, a place which was a bit less isolated, at least until the hunting season came around, and it always seemed to come around too soon for Juunana-gou's preferences. He didn't mind the gunshots; it was the hunters themselves that bothered him, coming in with their brash attitudes and I-own-this-spot mentalities. He hadn't showed up in front of them (though he'd very dearly like to) while they were waiting patiently for their own prey yet, but there were times that if he hadn't been trying unsuccessfully to beat Gero's programming; there would not have been a prayer to be said that could save those grizzled, hardened hunters.
He opened the makeshift door into what passed for a kitchen, searching, mildly depressed, for a shred of food from the last time he'd been to the nearby town. He didn't need to eat, really; he just enjoyed it on occasion and kept it should he want it, like a human with a favorite champagne. Right now all that was left from his grocery spree three months before that wasn't rancid were an unopened pack of Coca-Cola cans and a few bars of Hershey's chocolate. He poured America's favorite soft drink into a glass and unwrapped the chocolate bar, deciding that if the humans really had done anything halfway useful in their existence, that it was for the discovery of how to make chocolate, that and nothing else.
A few moments later, he came to the realization that he had come to the last piece of his candy, and only three of what had once been a six- pack of Coke cans remained. 'Great, worst has really come to worst. I'm eating like a Saiyajin here.'
It was the perfect irony, unconsciously imitating the race he'd have destroyed had a purple-haired time traveler not gotten in the way. If destiny ruled life, irony ruled destiny. Grumbling, he attributed it to having too much of a good thing lying around. He'd have to cut down; otherwise the poker money would run out and he'd have to count on his luck again for more. 'Goku, I'm blaming you for this one.'
Surprised he still knew the name, Juunana-gou threw the soft drink cans and foil Hershey's wrappers away and turned his thoughts over to the Doctor's old nemesis. It must've been some grudge for the withered old man to waste so many androids on killing that one person, only one of which ever even accomplished the mission. Juunana-gou couldn't see the point of disliking Goku any; it seemed from what he'd heard that it was hard to stay mad at him. He figured that destroying an entire army single-handedly at the age of twelve gave you a few enemies. But Goku-- Hector, even he, Juunana-gou, could see that the man didn't wish harm on anyone. He was like a grown-up kid, for crying out loud, naive, good-natured, gullible. Juuhachi-gou had mentioned him once or twice in her infrequent visits to her brother's house, how he and everyone else around that could actually pose a threat at the Tenkaichi Budokai a few years ago had all run off to go chasing some monster, expecting her to win the tournament for them.
"You did win, didn't you, Sister?"
"Well, actually..."
"Don't tell me that Mr. Satan wannabe martial artist defeated Gero's perfect android," he said, trying to get her to laugh.
If possible, Juuhachi-gou had paled further than she already was.
"Oh, come on, Juuhachi! Even if you have been slacking off, there's still no way for--"
"He overpowered me."
Juunana-gou had rolled his eyes.
"I know you better than that. You threw the match, didn't you?"
"We needed the money. The rent's been stacking up, and the--"
"Juuhachi-gou! You shouldn't have. You'd have been the only female winner the Budokai's ever had."
"It was for a good cause. Hercule got his reputation saved with a capital s."
Juunana-gou idly wondered now whether his sister cared anymore about her own rep. He seriously doubted it. After she'd married Krillin and had Marron, her visits had become short, abbreviated, which had once been most unlike her. She'd once spent hours discussing the existence of ghosts with her brother. Now he was lucky if he got three semi-lengthy paragraphs out of his twin before she decided she had to leave. They'd gotten distant over the years, too distant.
He sat on his roughly-made couch and wondered if he'd been the one to change, if he'd done or said something that repelled her. Mentally he replayed every conversation they'd had since the Cell Games, an easy enough trick for the cyborg, playing them at a faster speed so it'd still be daytime when he finished. He found nothing, nothing at all in his behavior to his sister that could have turned her away. It had to have been her that had become different. He'd remained the same throughout.
Author's note: More will be on the way. I hope you liked it so far, and I hope you review if you did like it. (Or if you didn't, okay.) It's only fair to review mine if I reviewed yours. Remember that. Oh, yeah, and the thoughts are in ', just so you know.