A/N: Had this story planned in my mind forever and I've finally put it on paper.
This is a story about my original character, Chechi. She is ChiChi and Goku's daughter. She's one year older than Goten, and a few months younger than Trunks. So you all can know where to place her in age.
This Story goes right after Goku left with Uub after the tournament. The primary focus is Chechi relationship with her father and her relationship with Trunks. But trouble is around the corner.
Desclaimer: DBZ and it's characters don't belong to me, however Chechi does!
Severed Dam
Chapeter 1
The sun has yet to rise and I am fully awake. This is the fourth time that sleep has left my body early since my father's departure with Uub. Something I secretly dub as: our abandonment.
I hate sounding like an over dramatic, sentimental woman. Being surrounded by overly macho, egocentric Saiyans that believe women and emotions were weak, makes being a women and a Saiyan much more difficult on my part. I fear that if anyone saw me in my weakness, much less in tears, they would no longer respect me; no longer think that I merit in strength of any kind. It doesn't help that my mother is the kind of woman that carries her emotions on her sleeve. Tears have become her trademark in life.
There is no point in me lying in bed; sleep won't consume me anytime soon. Sitting up, I stretch my arms over my head, feeling my muscles loosen up with the process. Getting out of my full bed, I tidy my plum sheets and turn towards my window with its perfect view of the forest. The twilight reveals the dampness of the grass from earlier that night.
The desire to run creeps through my veins. It's my favorite way to release stress. Reaching for my runners, I climb out of my window and smell the fragrance of fresh morning dew. I tie my long black hair up and fix my bang from its disheveled state.
Running with all my strength, I separate myself from my home, my troubles. However, the memories seem to run along side me, no matter how hard I push, I can't forget that day.
That morning dad was in high spirits; we could all feel his excitement. Something was going to happen at the tournament, we were all afraid to ask what it would be.
I usually wake up early to help Mom with breakfast, since I too had inherited the Saiyan appetite; it was harder for her to make so much food alone. Dad arrived at the perfect time, as we had finished placing the food on the table. After giving Mom a morning kiss he sat down and dug right in the food.
"Morning Daddy." I said as I put my arms around his neck and kissed his cheek.
"Morning Chech'." He replied as best he could due to the fact his mouth was preoccupied with food. Goten came down in a groggy state, he was never a morning person. He greeted us in his mumbling way. Soon enough we were all getting ready to meet with everyone and head for the tournament.
At the reunion with our friends, dad was harassed about his lack of visitation in the past years. His excuse, as always, was his training. Yamcha had casually asked if I was fighting as well, but Dad stated that I wasn't a fighter, leaving me to subtly agree with a small smile.
After watching the intense fight between Dad and Uub, he's random announcement became a great blow to our family. My father was leaving us to live with that boy and train him. With that smirk on his face, he blatantly said that he was leaving. Gohan was furious, Mom was heart-broken, Goten was confused, and I did what I'm doing now, I ran. Piccolo's words rang in my ears as I sprinted,
"He seems happy to me, more so that in a long time..."
I felt like I was dying. My father wasn't happy with us; we weren't enough for him. I didn't stay for the rest of the match, I wasn't able to hold those emotions.
I'm at home by breakfast, the food is prepared and Goten's awake. Hours seem to have passed by quickly during my run. As I enter the kitchen I notice Mom and Goten give me strange looks, it almost appears to be looks of pity. Sitting down at the table I look back and forth and their sad stares.
"What's wrong? Why are you both looking at me like that?" Mom places my plate infront of me and sits down. She looks so tired, her eyes blood-shot, no doubt from crying at night. Grabbing hold of my hand she gives me a sad smile.
"You went out running, didn't you Chechi dear." Looking away, I silently affirmed her statement. Sometimes, I hate that my family knows me so well.
"You wanna talk about it Sis'? Mom and I have been talking about the whole thing and it's helped us. Gohan sometimes joins us and it's cooled him down a lot." Goten said with a crooked grin, just like Dad. I plaster a sweet smile.
"Oh don't worry Goten, that's not why I went running. I'm really fine about Dad. Quite gotten over it." I force my smile wider. "Now if you'll excuse me I'm in desperate need of a bath before I meet up with Trunks for our usual 'rendezvous.'" Before anyone can protest, I give my mom a peck on the cheek, give my love and run to take a shower.
The chai tea latte calms my senses as I snuggle into the large sofa, taking another sip. The small but homey café was always my favorite. Trunks always preferred the more hip, industrialized cafés, but in the end the rustic, cozy feel of Ives Coffee won and we've been coming here for years.
Trunks sat across with his double-shot latte, his usual. After taking a sip he places the mug on the coffee table in between us. He leans over placing his elbows on his knees and takes a deep breathe. I lift my legs on the couch and slide them under me, waiting patiently.
"Chech', I talked to Goten today." He looks at me with those sad eyes; the same mom and Goten gave me earlier today. Giving him a sweet smile, I pretend I don't know what he's referring too. Taking another sip of my chai, I wait patiently. "Don't you want to talk about it? I know it must be hard. I mean even my mom talks, well more like rants, about it. But it helps." I place my mug on the coffee table as he continues. "Come on Chech', no one knows you more than Goten and I, we're you're best friends. If you can't confide in us, then who? We don't ask you to be perfect."
I smile at him; I love it when he allows himself to be raw, no macho mask, just Trunks. It's during our weekly rendezvous' when he lets himself relax. It's from these meetings that I've slowly fallen for him. My best friend. I've fallen into a sad story of unrequited love. I reach out across and grab hold of his right hand and squeezed it gently.
"Thank you so much for caring, it's really sweet that you all care for me so much." I release his hand and lay back on the sofa. "But I can assure you that I'm fine. Mom and Goten are really over-reading the whole 'running' thing." Once I finished my sentence I see the look in Trunks eyes, and instantly I feel like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar. He didn't know about the "running-thing."
"You went running? Aw Chech'..."
"What's with everyone? Why do you all keep making a big deal of it? Can't a girl just go running without being interrogated!" I'm trying to keep my voice down; annoyance is rapidly creeping into my system. Trunks scoots close to me, leaning forward, trying to get closer without having to leave his seat.
"It's a big deal when it comes to you!" He's trying to keep himself calm, I can tell. "We know that the only reason you run is when you're really upset with something. And it's not that you wanna get away from the place fast, because you would just fly if that was the case." He runs his hands through his hair, a gesture he does when he's exasperated. "Remember when we were kids? You had this huge crush on that kid in our class, what's his name? Anyways, you were crushed when he blatantly rejected you. And what did you do about it? You ran!"
"Trunks, that story just proves on how this isn't a big deal, that crush with what's-his-name was stupid and I was just making a big deal out of nothing."
"But back then it was a big deal to you. Just like I know your father leaving is a huge deal to you!"
We stay in silence for a while. It's awkward, but I know we're just trying to cool down; this is what we do when we're in public. Being two very passionate people, we usually have to control what we say when we're surrounded by others; we've never allowed ourselves to be completely alone. Grabbing my mug, I take a long sip of my now lukewarm chai, Trunks does the same.
"Sometimes I envy Bra and Marron…even Pan." I can't bring myself to look at him, being slightly embarrassed at my minor confession, but I feel his attention towards me silently asking why. "Their father's were always in their lives. Yes, your father is more reserved, but he's there. He's there for her. In my 19 years, my father was not even in half of it…" Silence engulfs us again, but I can hear Trunks shifting in his position.
"Chechi, you know that your dad had to do what was best for the eart-"
"I know!" I cut him off, raising my head to make eye contact. "I know and I am grateful. It's just a moment of weakness, it will pass – So! How is it with Aisha?" Yes, lovely Aisha, Trunks' supermodel, gold-eyed, beauty. She's just another reason why he would never fall for me. Compared to his past girlfriends, who were exotic and sensual, I (in my opinion) am very plain. Dark hair, dark eyes, pale complexion. I've been told before that I have the perfect female body, and a beautiful, sweet face. But Trunks never went after sweet. He goes for sultry, sex on a stick. Oh the countless times I've slapped myself for falling for a "man-whore." But, then again, I fell for his heart, not his taste in women. He gives me a weak smile and shakes his head.
"That is long over. I don't know, I think I'm tired of Barbie dolls with a hollow scull. Now give me the Barbie doll with something in there, then you've got my interest." He gives me his cocky smirk with a wink while I roll my eyes at him. I apologize that it didn't work out, but he replies with a nonchalant shrug. "I knew it would never last, so no big deal. What about you? Found any guy to finally capture that locked up heart of yours?" I can't look at him, so I smile mischievously into my mug, I know that my answer will drive him crazy.
"Wouldn't you like to know…"