A/N: I have not written anything nice for the past months a.k.a. I am a worthless piece of crap since March. Will understand if I get terrible reviews... or nothing at all haha
"Hey Pan!"
"Briefs."
"Care for a post-lunch spar?" a certain bluenette yawned from the other line.
Pan glanced at her wristwatch, then at the unblinking laptop that sat on her office desk. The day wasn't even close to an end yet-her day, at least. But she could spare time for her best friend and her aching neck. "Sure. When?"
"Great! Meet you at 1:30?"
"Okay."
"See ya!"
When she hung up, she immediately pursued a moment with her top boss, Pamela Brown. Inside the news wing, Brown was in the middle of the room, eyeing the events. "Why would you want to leave at an important hour, Miss Son?"
Sigh. "There was an emergency."
Silence.
An arched eyebrow.
Pursed lips.
"...at home. I-I mean, my other home."
A stare.
A freezing stare.
A smirk.
"It's Capsule business, isn't?" Miss Brown babbled. Pan nodded, so the boss continued. "I am not in the position to question such a matter that involves a company that sustains almost whole of the world's technology,
"However, I would like to ask this: what about your reports?"
Another sigh. "I sent all of those to the proofreader. I'm afraid I've finished my news items today, Ma'am."
Miss Brown gave her a kind smile. "You're free to leave, then."
"Thank you, Ma'am."
Because her SUV had a capsulize button near the captain door, Pan shrunk the vehicle, encapsulated, and stored it in her purse. Thank Bulma and her inventions, Pan kept in her mental to-do list. Driving in West City did not seem to be the best option for a muggy Friday afternoon-with all the summer adventures that people did, traffic boomed into irritating volumes. Thank goodness for being born a Saiyan, she whispered to herself as she zoomed into the sky without attracting attention from the busy crowd beneath the clouds.
Pan could do other things while she flew: check emails, text messages, tweets, stories, and whatever. She's a woman of the world media; she goes wherever the news blooms. But on that day, she didn't mean to land in front of Capsule Corp. headquarters without the knowledge of Bulma's latest display of wealth.
That has to be news-worthy, right?
So when Pan entered the lobby, a funny man in a cheap suit called her attention in a hey-stranger fashion...
...to which she did not fancy hearing, together with the sound of the alarms banging on her ear lobes. Damn, Saiyan hearing!
"What the hell was that?" angrily, she retreated and asked the funny man.
The guy cleared his throat. "I am sorry, but who are you?" With an elbow propped against the marble counter of the reception desk, knuckles on his funny chin, he, too, asked, but rather proudly.
"I'm sorry," she mocked. "but who are you?"
"It would be nice if a stranger introduced herself before the authority."
"Oh-so if you were a police officer, you would begrudgingly interrogate a witness before introducing your authority?" she bit back.
A frown.
"I am Obkep Hudo, head of security of Capsule Corporation. Miss Bulma Briefs assigned me to screen every living being who attempts to enter the headquarters."
An arched brow.
"But I practically live here!"
"Really? Because your face does not seem to belong to any of these passes."
"What pass?"
"Passes for the allowed personnel," Obkep-guy shrugged a thin list of faces that Pan was very familiar with.
"Allowed personnel..." she began. "What's up?"
"Miss Briefs is hosting a gala event for scientific tech companies, and until the moment it is happening, unauthorized people are not allowed inside the hq. Confidentials."
What? "BUT I live here!"
"You're not the first one to say that."
"What do you mean?" Pan was seething.
"Many have tried. You, too, are not on the visuals list," he retrieved the paper. "Name?"
Grunt. "Pan Son."
Obkep hit seven keys on his computer, glanced at Pan, and shook his head. "Sorry, no Pan Son in the list."
"What?"
Sadly, Obkep was right. Though, everyone she knew was there: her uncle, Piccolo, mom, dad, grandma, grandpa, Yamcha, Tien, Master Roshi, Krillin, 18, Marron...
"Occupation?"
"News wri-"
"Oh, no media people allowed. Kindly leave now before I call security."
She couldn't believe it. Why would her job deprive her of the right to be home? Bulma knew better. She always knew she did.
But then she took another look at the list. Marron was there, and yet she worked for the West Magazine as a full-time columnist. Pan demanded answers for this injustice, and she was about to receive one from the woman marching straight to her direction. "Bulma."
"Good afternoon, Miss Briefs."
She disregarded the man. "Pan! You're out early tod-"
"Why am I not here," with righteous control, Pan calmly waved the paper in front of her. "when my entire family and close friends are?"
She saw Bulma's face grow pale at the statement of the question. Confusion? Suddenness? "Pan, liste-"
"What the hell, Bulma! You're hitting two strikes of me!" the other lady began. "I've lived almost half of my life in this place, made developments on myself and with your children, your husband-and you-yet I'm not allowed to step foot inside?
"Reason for a living that we both knew I am passionate about. For the same means of living Marron is involved. I am a media personnel, but so is she!"
Furrowed eyebrows.
Heavy pressure.
Bulma flinched at the realization that hit her, but was easy to speak. "I think she knows how to handle her sources."
"And you thought I couldn't?"
"I'm so sorry, Pan." Stupid me stupid me stupid me stupid me.
"Bulma, I am not a press junkie who'd just jot down every detail to this 'confidential' event of yours, and broadcast it to the whole world! But I sure am a real journalist who lives for integrity and dignity, not for fat salary!
"Your first strike is for estranging me from my, I don't know, second home?"
"Pan-"
"And the second strike is for belittling my career," Pan stared at Bulma with emptiness and new-found disbelief. "And perhaps, for thinking I could not be any more professional, when Marron could."
Obkep merely stood wordless behind the marble counter with his gaze focused on Pan, who seemed deeply hurt by the actions that Bulma did, that did not need her diction.
Like a proud Saiyan she was, Pan gathered the courage to mutter sentences she was quick to decide on. "First things first: it is pretty clear to me that I am no longer a part of this household."
Light sobs.
"So before dusk, I'll have every stuff that came from you, well, returned to you, and I mean everything."
A troubled face.
"Might as well remove every single information that connects me to you and to your family."
As soon as Pan was headed for the door, tears threatened to escape her prideful eyes. Pride. That Saiyan thing. Like a wounded animal, she licked her scars and fled. But as if on cue, she turned around and noted, "And oh, please tell your daughter to find a new sparring mate. Forever."
Footsteps afar.
"Good-bye for good, Briefs."
When Pan got home, she kissed her parents hello. And then her grandparents. There was no uncle to greet because he said he was still in the city; Kisses that didn't show a hint of disappointment due to previous events.
As she sank into the couch, she noticed a navy blue envelope with a familiar double 'C' logo on the seal that kept it closed, nested in the center of their coffee table.
.
.
"Dear Son family,
Greetings.
You are cordially invited to attend Capsule Corporation's gala night entitled, "Night of the Techno Minds", to be held on the 23rd of May 2025 at the Capsule Corporation Grand Ballroom, 5:00pm till midnight.
The gala night is created to recognize the companies and geniuses that/who contributed to the innovation of modern science and technology.
The Briefs are hoping for your delightful presence.
Thank you.
P.S.: There is a separate card provided to include the names of your attendees, to be sent back to the company address.
CAPSULE CORPORATION"
.
.
"Hey dad?" Pan called from the kitchen.
Munching, Gohan responded. "Yes, sweetie?"
"The invitation for Capsule's event is here."
"Great! Could you write our names to the going list?"
"Sure."
Pan handed the envelope to her still feasting father.
"Pan, where's your name?"
She gave him a weak smile. "Oh, no no no, I'm not going."
A doubting look.
"It's a long story, dad."
Sigh.