Calm Before The Storm
By M
Date: January 5th, 2012
Chapter 1: Criminals; the Prologue
Criminals. That word is the word you hear every single day. You can't miss it, actually. Too hard to ever ignore. People are always saying that word so many times. So many times, it should have its own theme song to the tune of Mary Had a Little Lamb.
We the criminals, we fight for your money!
Now spare us, some work!
And give us your cash... ... ... ... -ey!
Cue epic scene with only one percent of the people clapping at the song, and the others rolling their eyes.
Okay, in all seriousness now, you hear that every day. Now imagine being a crime fighter. Yeah, I know, a little hard, a little easy for some. Imagine that.
Son Gohan, had this problem. Being an alien, a secret crime fighter, and just dealing with a girl who pokes at his life all day, trying to figure out what he is doing... And then hearing the word "criminal" at least five times a day... Almost as frequently as hearing "homework".
I apologize. Homework makes me sad too. I should not say foul things here.
Back to our scene.
Certain boy looked at the clock hanging from the wall.
Why does every single problem in this city have to be when I am in class? He thought annoyed.
"Gohan, why are you not paying attention?" The teacher told him sternly. Guess what his name is?
That's right.
Bob.
"Sorry", Gohan apologized.
He was not in the mood of learning, not when other people were in trouble. Yes, this boy has a high sense of justice. Sometimes admirable, sometimes unnecessary, especially when there was a certain girl that could handle all of this by herself.
The certain girl was sitting right next to him, just as distracted as he was.
Just fifteen more minutes, you can handle it… Wait! I just have to say I need to go to bathroom and return later… Videl thought.
Gohan had thought exactly what Videl was thinking. Fate? A crazy author? Both?
"Sir, I need to go to the bathroom!" The two fighters yelled at the same time.
Everyone just stared at them.
Gohan and Videl stared back, not blinking.
Everyone went back to work.
"Go, but please, return to pick up the homework if you hear the bell… "
Both Videl and Gohan had already left.
The teacher sweat dropped as he realized that he had been talking to himself. Then he muttered something about children who just couldn't wait and mental issues.
Everyone understood Bob. He raised his hand.
Bob, the teacher, sighed and nodded. "Yes, Everyone?"
Gohan easily was able to run out of there and avoid the principal. Videl, however, had a faster way to get there.
~Fifteen minutes later….~
"I'm here! The Great Saiyaman, defender of justice!" Gohan proceeded to strike a pose as he landed on the police car safely.
A policeman looked at him and said, "Great Saiyaman, Miss Videl already beat the criminals and is on her way home!"
The Great Saiyaman fell over anime style. Even the great fall.
"But I-"
"Go home. We have done our job here."
Gohan nodded, scratching his head, frowning.
And all of the trouble for nothing. Oh well, not my fault those dumplings looked so good…
Gotta love Saiyans' stomachs.
Goten looked at the sky waiting for his older brother to arrive. He had done everything he had needed to do already. Fly his mother to West City, fly around to find Trunks, and train for a bit. He had a "special" surprise to show him.
Gohan, you are so going to fall for this… Goten thought as he chuckled.
He grabbed the large box that was part of the surprise. A bow, neatly and innocently, was laying on top.
"Trunks is really smart, he actually came up with this…" He muttered.
Just as planned.
One thing.
You just lost the game.
Author's note: Mei here! You can go ahead ask me in my real account why I made a rewrite. Because I feel like I needed too and because as some of you may know, some person copied my pen name and yeah... So I am making another account to throw people off. Anyway, I hope that no one was offended by my comments, lol. If yes, I am sorry. Oh, and who lost the game? XD
Side note: I am just rewriting to restart my brain again for new ideas as well.
