Keoni, Android 21: A DBZ Fanfic:
My second fanfic. hope you like it. And, by the way, Goten is eleven, Trunks is twelve, and Marron is seven. My OC, Keoni is twelve. And there are actually many genres. Some parts are humorous, some mysterious, and some hurt/angst. So sorry for just naming it adventure and mystery. And there are lots of main characters too: My OC, Goten and Trunks, Goku, and Android 18. So . . . I'm labeling it any.
The girl ran. She ran as fast as her legs could carry her, her black ponytail flying behind her.
The soles of her sneakers crunched loudly against the dried leaves of the forest floor.
The girl's side ached and her chest burned, breath ragged in her throat, but she desperately continued on.
Sickening sights played throughout her mind . . . over and over . . . a terrible surgery . . . a terrible pain . . . a terrible doctor . . . the doctor's terrible death.
At last, the girl found she could run no more and ducked into a gray cave, where she collapsed, exhausted . . . .
My ears twitched as I heard a noise . . . a little boy's voice in my head.
"Oh, my gosh! Guess what, Trunks? I found a girl! A girl!"
I heard a snort come from somewhere in the background. "Quit pulling my leg, Goten. What would a girl be doing in a cave?"
"I dunno," the other boy answered. "Come ask her."
I clenched my fists as I attempted to roll over onto my back.
Every movement amounted to a nearly unbearable pain.
I managed to suppress howling in distress. Tears pricked the corners of my eyes.
How could I have endured so much anguish? What had caused my body so much suffering?
"You'd better hurry up, Trunks!" The first boy had shouted. "She's waking up!"
That voice . . . it was so intimate . . . like I should've known it, but I still didn't.
I restrained from opening my eyes, afraid of the agony I'd have to withstand if I did.
I listened as I hard footsteps and another male's voice, perhaps older than the other one.
"Goten, girls aren't something you lie ab-" His voice had stopped shot of his sentence.
"I'm not lying," stated the first male.
"I can see that now," said the second. "Is she alive? I can't feel her ki."
One of they boys' hands touched my chest. I winced slightly.
"Her heartbeat's going . . . but you're right, Trunks! Why can't we feel her ki? Isn't that . . . messed up?"
"Relax, would ya?" One boy told the other. "It's not totally messed up. We can't feel 18's ki either, remember?"
"Oh, yeah! Must be a lady's thing."
"No, cuz we can sense our moms' . . . ."
I tuned them out completely. What had they said again . . . ? 18? Yes . . . 18. That name . . . that number . . . It was so familiar.
My breathing pacened as something dawned on me: I couldn't remember. Not a single thing. My mind was blank. Not even my name was clear to me. It was such an alone feeling. And it scared me a whole lot. I felt so helpless.
And then the feeling came back at me with such a force, that my eyes shot open and I jumped to my feet, ignoring the excruciating pain.
The words spurted from my mouth before I could think: "I can't remember!"
That was when I saw both boys for the first time: One was shorter than the other with spiky, black hair that went in every direction possible. The other boy was around my age (I knew that much) with light purple hair and memorizing blue eyes. Both males had a look of surprise on their faces.
"R-remember what?" Asked the purple-head.
Much to my amazement, I answered him. "Anything."
As soon as i'd said those words, I took note of how pathetic and lonely I'd sounded and a wave of nausea knocked me to my feet.
Everything got dizzy and found myself heaving my stomach contents out in front of those strange males, which wasn't much.
Tears welled in my eyes again, but for a different hurting . . . memory loss.
I felt a gentle hand on my back and looked up . . . Purple-Head.
"Hey, it's alright," he coaxed, trying to settle my hysterics. "We'll find away to help you, if you want."
He helped to my feet, and much to my embarrassment, I was leaning heavily on him.
The black-haired boy gazed at me curiously. "I guess you'd want to know our names, huh, before we try and help you out? Our name's-"
"Goten and Trunks," I blurted.
They stared at me in amazement. Even I was stupefied. How had I known that? I'd never even seen those guys in my life!
Nausea tried to overtake me again, but I forced it away.
How had i known those two's names, but not even my own. Wasn't that odd? Impossible maybe?
Trunks, the Purple-Head, studied me hard. "How'd you know that?"
I avoided meeting his eyes. "No clue."
"How about your name, then?" Goten prodded.
My eyes darted up to give him an intense glare. "Does memory loss mean anything to you? It's just so stupid . . . not even my own name is clear to me."
Both boys' faces had a tinge of sympathy in them.
"Maybe the Z-Fighters can help," Trunks suggested thoughtfully. "And my mom, maybe."
I stumbled back as a picture of a woman with pretty blue hair flashed through my mind. Trunks's mother. Bulma Briefs.
I wanted to break down and cry. How could I know all these things? All these things about other people, but not myself?
Trunks saw the tears that were probably in my eyes and put arm around my shoulder. "Hey, girl, please don't cry! It makes us feel . . . guilty."
Despite myself, i let loose a wry smile, sarcastically saying, "My heart bleeds for you."
Trunks shrugged. "Gosh, Goten, have we ever met a girl without sarcasm? Isn't it odd? This girl who can't remember anything knows about sarcasm!"
I stared at him. "That didn't exactly make me feel better."
He gave me a nice, genuine smile. Somehow, I got lost in it. He was cute . . . he was handsome!
I shook the thought from my head. I barely knew the guy. I was right! I did barely know the guy! So why were he and his friend so intent on helping me out?
I was just some weird girl who couldn't remember her own name. A girl they'd found lying in a miserable heap in a dingy cave!
I pulled away from Trunks, eying them suspiciously.
"Why," my voice cracked, "would you want to help me? What can you possibly figure out that I can't?"
Goten grinned. "Oh . . . that. I thought you were gonna ask us why we were staring at your- um, never mind. Our family and friends saved the world a whole bunch of times, so we can't refuse a call for help."
"I didn't call for help," I stated simply.
Goten laughed. "Oh, well, we'll help you anyways." He began to hover in the air. "Trunks, you can carry her, and we'll head to Capsule Corp."
I jumped back as Trunks advanced toward me. "No! Don't!"
He raised an eyebrow. "Why? Can you fly?"
I felt a tugging in my gut. I wasn't really sure that I could fly or not, but the uneasiness in my stomach disagreed.
"Yes," I said uncertainly.
Goten and Trunks shot into the sky. "Well, c'mon, then!"
I looked up at them, hesitant. The yanking in my belly intensified.
Perspiration formed along my eyebrows as I concentrated on what I wanted to do . . . fly. I begged myself to comply, to listen to my pleads and make like the two boys in the air above me. And then I lifted into the sky.
"Whoa, you really can fly! You know ki! I only know four humans that know ki!" Goten exclaimed.
I swallowed thickly. "I-I'm ready. Can you take me to your friends now?"
The boys nodded. "Follow us."
Now if getting into the air was difficult, moving in different directions was nearly impossible to figure out. I almost fell a number of times. But somehow, I felt as if I.d flown before . . . like it wasn't my first time.
And my feelings were all mixed up about Trunks and Goten: Should I trust them? I guessed I should since there was no one else to help solve my amnesia. Could they really help me? Maybe. Would I start to remember? Maybe. Who was I? God knows who! The answers to my mental questions weren't reassuring. And then I realized that I desperately needed answers or else I'd be miserable for the rest of my life that I couldn't remember!
And so I took of after Trunks and Goten, speeding as if my life depended on it, the wind drying my eyes and blowing back my hair. Which it did.
A few minutes later, I noticed a city beneath us and a huge house larger than the others. Goten and Trunks landed, do I did, too.
There were lots of people outside as if they were having a party, or something. One I hadn't been invited to. I felt outta place.
Trunks saw me hesitating and took my hand, which made me flinch.
He blushed, dropping it. "Oh, jeez, I'm sorry. The Zfighters and wives are having some reunion at Capsule Corporation. See, we just wished everyone back from a Cell incident and- um, I think I just lost you."
Actually, he had lost me. He'd lost me at "wished."
But somehow, I'd recognized the name "Cell" instantly.
A large green creature with a tail, pink eyes, and a malicious grin blinked through my mind.
Trunks caught my arm just before hit the ground as a sick feeling of vertigo traveled through me. I clung to him desperately, blushing deeply.
"Y-you ok?" He asked me, concern creasing on his brow.
His care made me shy and self-conscience. I stepped back weakly. "Um, yes, I'm fine, really. Thank you."
"Trunks!" Goten called from a distance. "C'mere! I found your mom!"
Trunks grabbed my forearm and pulled me along through the green grass, tearing after Goten.
He stopped when he spotted his mother, a middle-aged woman with cerulean hair. I stared at her, transfixed, as more information flew through my mind: Husband: Vegeta; Child: Trunks; Father: Dr. Briefs, famous scientist; Mother: Mrs. Briefs.
My head throbbed and a pain formed behind my eyes.
"M-mom?" Trunks called. "Helloooo!" His mom took no notice, chatting away with some friends.
Trunks began to tug at Bulma's clothes. "Yo! Mom! I-"
"Not now, Trunks," his mother shushed.
But Trunks kept at it, impatient. "Moooomm, there's somethin' I got to-"
Bulma put a hand in his face. "Oh, go away, Trunks. Having a conversation with Chichi and 18, here."
I then took note of the two women standing in front of her: One had black hair, in a bun, and the other had almost shoulder-length blonde hair.
My brain informed me of the black-haired one: Name: Chichi; Child: Goten and Gohan; Father: The Ox-King; Mother: Unknown; Occupant: At home mother/ martial artist. Husband: . . . Goku.
My heart rate suddenly sped up and my fists squeezed for an unknown reason.
Goku . . . that name was so awake in my mind, as if I'd heard it many times over.
To my surprise, I was growling in vexation, eying Chichi with mad hatred.
An electrical charge crackled around my body and the earth shook beneath my feet. Gray clouds darkened the sky, lightning emitting from them.
I felt a hand on my shoulder, warm to the touch. Trunks. "H-hey . . . what're you doing? What's the matter?"
I completely ignored him, taking a stern step forward. Mass murder pounded in my ears with a thundering noise. I knew what I had to do. I had to kill Chichi, the wife of Goku. Then Goten and Gohan, the sons. And then the real deal.
I raised a hand, forcing some energy into it. The ki lit up at my palm.
"T-Trunks?" Bulma quivered. "Do you know that girl? Is she a friend of yours?"
I saw some men gather around me, but didn't really bother to acknowledge them. My head was filled with a rage that I didn't know I had! My body was reacting on some kind of instinct. Some kinda anger that I couldn't control.
"Hey, stop!" Goten cried. "That's my mom you're after!"
In front of me, Chichi was trembling with fear.
But then a tallish man with hair like Goten's stepped in front of her, gently pushing her back, his hair going golden.
I was a bit surprised, and my fury and loathing took a giant boost. My breathing was so uneven, it felt as if the entire world was shaking. A roaring aura surrounded me. Because the man was Goku. And somehow, i knew i had to kill him.
Goku ran his now-green eyes over me, as if wondering who I was.
"Why are you attacking us?" He asked slowly.
I wasted no time in replying: "Because I have to."
That answer had astonished me. Of course I didn't have to, right? Right?
"Who sent you?" Goku questioned.
I spoke the truth. "I dunno."
"Then why attack?"
"I already answered that."
Goku frowned. "Can't you at least tell me your name? I don't like fighting strangers."
I shouldn't be having this conversation, I thought. I should just blast him though the heart.
But I answered his question anyway. "Again, I don't know, but I know I need to kill you."
"But why?" Goku pouted.
I heard a growl from somewhere behind me. "Arrrggghh! Kakarot, you're getting nowhere with the child's answers! Just blast her already! Blast her, or I'm stepping in!"
I didn't bother to turn around. I knew that voice: Vegeta; Wife: Bulma; Children: Trunks; Father: King Vegeta; Mother: Unknown; Other relatives: Tarble; Occupant: Saiyan, martial artist.
Goku held up a hand like he was going to shoot me, but I could tell he wanted to interrogate me some more.
"But- wait, Vegeta, can't I just ask her how she got this strong? Not even Goten is-"
"That's it, Kakarot! I'm jumping in. If you won't take advantage of this moment, I will!"
I could feel his weak energy of a Super Saiyan behind me, aiming to blow me in the back of my head.
I merely ducked without effort, lifting a fist behind me, knocking it into his face.
And Vegeta crumpled into a pile at my heels, his nose shedding blood.
"Dad/Vegeta!" Goku, Trunks, and Bulma yelled.
"That was very rash of him," I said.
My snarl sounded odd coming from my mouth. "How weak does he think I am? Jeez, I can shake the world!"
Trees were quaking and fell.
Goku took his fighting stance, his golden hair going spikier, one strand in his eyes. "Hmm . . . you knocked Vegeta out. I guess that's enough for me."
He attempted to roundhouse kick me, but I grabbed his leg and swung him away with ease.
"Gosh, Goku," I taunted. "My mind's told me so much good things about you that I didn't think you'd be this feeble!"
Goku landed hard on his back, coughing.
"Goku/Dad!" Goten, Chichi, and Bulma shouted.
Goten ran up and yanked my arm. "Hey, that was my father! Why would you do that, huh? Trunks and I tried to help you, but you threw it back in our faces, you bitch!"
Although I didn't remember much, I knew that the term "bitch" was a sexist insult.
In retaliation, I whirled around and kneed him in the gut. "Goten, I don't appreciate being called that, you little sexist-piggy!"
He gasped in pain.
So yep, I was on a roll.
From behind me, I could see Trunks rushing an ambush on me, but I just blasted him outta the sky.
"Is it just me, or is it raining Saiyans lately?"
On the ground, Trunks gazed hard into my eyes. "You . . . I trusted you. I thought you really needed help. You're such a . . . jerk."
His words calmed me down a bit. I was hurting his friends for a reason I didn't know. I needed help more than ever now.
But instead of letting up my rampage, I rounded on Goku, who was struggling to his knees, wincing.
"Heh, heh . . . i-if you think you can get rid o-of me t-that easily, then . . . you're h-highly mi-" Goku fell to the ground, passing out.
Man, I must've really beaten him up with that throw! But it wasn't enough. He needed to be exterminated . . . later. I needed my fun.
I laughed, turning to face the crowd of men surrounding me. Most were trembling and cowering uncontrollably, but one short guy with black hair stepped forward.
"I mean, come on!" He exclaimed. "Why's everybody always hating on Goku for? He's a really nice guy! For real, we just came back from Otherworld and we need a break!"
His name was Krillin. Occupant: Martial Artist; Father: Unknown; Mother: Unknown; Children: Marron; Wife: Android 18; Origin: Orin Temple.
I cocked an eyebrow. Android 18? There was that familiar name again. And "android" . . . what did that mean?
Beside Krillin, a taller man with a straight, black ponytail and scar, slapped his forehead, horrified at Krillin's boldness.
But Krillin held his ground. "Um, care to answer me? See, I'm not normally the courageous one around these parts and it took a lot to confront you like this, so would it hurt to give me a straight answer?"
So I did. And the words I spoke caught me by surprise: "Because I was born to kill him."
Everyone blinked their eyes, flabbergasted.
Krillin kept coming at me, brave, muttering miserably, "I guess since Gohan and Piccolo went on their stupid walk, I'm the man of the house now." Then he said, "Fight me."
That same blonde woman held Krillin back. For some reason, my brain had no accurate data on her.
"Krillin," she warned with an edgy voice that she tried to keep calm. "I'd strictly advise you not to-"
"Hey, no way, 18!" Bulma interrupted hysterically. "Don't discourage him! He said it! He's the man of the house! Now save us, Krillin!"
Krillin flashed her an irked glance. "Gee, thanks, Bulma. Keep the pressure on me."
The blonde kept hassling him. "Krillin . . . listen to me . . . oh, sure you're the toughest and most idiotic human on Earth, but you're not the strongest one here at the moment. Let me-"
Krillin had turned to face her, compassion etched across his face.
That confused me. He had compassion for the blonde chick?
"Hey, relax," said Krillin. "Can't I at least try 18?"
I blinked. 18? Android 18? The one that was married to . . . Krillin? That was her? Why couldn't I get any data on her? Why? It worked for everyone else! And what did "android" mean?
I fired a ki blast at Krillin, but he cart wheeled away, did some flip-twirl thing, and handstand kicked me square in the chest.
I was surprised because it had hurt a whole lot, and part of the reason was cuz he'd hit me in what twelve year old breasts that I'd had. I made a mental note that that was a weak spot.
I staggered back a little, then regained composure, smiling sinisterly, knowing that the blow I was about to give Krillin would kill him completely.
I put up a fist. "Now . . . this'll be fun!"
But just as I was about to hit him, 18 shot forward and took the blow, hardly looking phased. And her breasts didn't seem harmed, as I'd hit her in the chest.
"Touch him," 18 forced out sternly, "and I'll make you wish you hadn't. This goofball's died one too many times for my liking."
And 18 cocked her fist . . . and punched me in my right cheek, rendering me unconscious.
