Myshel screwed her eyes together tightly as the morning rays seeped slowly through the blinds covering the window in front of her bed. She turned over so that her face was diverted away from the obvious coming of the morning, and tried desperately to fall back into the deep slumber that she had just minutes ago been blissfully enjoying. With a deep sigh of sadness, the seventeen-year-old girl heaved herself up off of the worn mattress that lay on the floor, and onto her feet. She quickly drew the thin blankets that were crumpled into little balls around her and neatly spread them out below her old white pillow.
If there was one thing that Myshel despised more than getting up in the morning, it was the day itself. You may be asking yourself why a teenage girl would hate the waking hours so, but if you had led the life of this battered soul; you would sorely miss your dream world as soon as you left it as well. Just like her, you would spend the entire day waiting impatiently to return to the only world that seemed to have love and appreciation for you.
Myshel trudged into the small bathroom in the corner of the bedroom and ran a comb through her long, bed-tangled black hair, and immediately, it became as needle-straight as if she had just ironed it. She squeezed a little toothpaste onto her toothbrush and turned the tarnished tap so that a thin stream of stale tap water came pouring out. She brushed her teeth and washed her face, then headed back into the bedroom. She dug through a crate that was thrown in the opposite corner before pulling out a pair of black gi pants, a black tank top, and a thin black, long sleeved sweater. She pulled fresh undergarments from the crate directly next to the clothes one, and changed.
Pulling on the silver bead cord hanging from the lamp on the ceiling, the light flickered on as Myshel entered the small kitchen and dining room. She opened the rusty old refrigerator and pulled out some milk, then reached down in a box and pulled out a bowl and a box of cereal. She sat down on an overturned crate in front of her makeshift table, made out of boxes and a piece of plywood thrown over the top and ate breakfast.
This was the way it was every morning for Myshel Alyece Mizzano. When you saw the tall, ice blue eyed teen walking the streets during the day as she moved between her three jobs, you would never think that she lived such a hard life. She struggled to meet her rent on her small, disrepaired apartment, lived out of crates and on ramen noodles and cereal, and put herself through a school where no one accepted her. She lived alone, subject to an incomplete and abusive past. She never knew her mother, and her father abused her whenever possible, before he went to prison and died of an overdose. Heroin, Myshel had heard. Oh well, she didn't care; he wasn't too great of a father anyway.
There was a time when she felt happy with her life, though. She often felt herself reminiscing of times past when she lived with Miss Chang. 'Hikari,' she used to call her. Her first foster parent. Almost four happy years she had spent with her. She had taught her the importance of school, and believing in yourself, in pushing to be the best at everything she did. Believing in herself, ha. There was nothing else to believe in. That terrible day when Miss Hikari Chang didn't come home to her twelve-year-old foster daughter, and instead was killed by a drunk driver. Myshel lived with countless other foster parents after that, but none of them kept a troubled pre-teen, then finally, teenager. They didn't care that she got good grades in school, or tried her hardest in everything she did. They just cared that they got the child-support money from the government. Finally, when she was just fifteen, Myshel decided that she had had enough, and had run off.
Now, almost a full two years later, she had a job as a waitress in a restaurant in the mornings on the weekdays, worked as a mechanic in the afternoons everyday except for Fridays and Sundays, and finally, bar-tended at a local club on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday nights, even though she herself was not old enough to legally drink. You think the bar owners cared? Not at all. She was, after all, a hard-worker, and she could fix the electronics every once and a while when they went astray.
Myshel put her bowl in the sink by the fridge and tied her sweater around her waist. If she hated the day, thank Kami it was at least Sunday, the only day in the whole week that she had all to herself. She grabbed up her small baby-blue backpack and swung it over her shoulder, snatched up a lanyard with her apartment key on it, and left. She made her way down the creaking stairs, three floors down to the street level. Ignoring the shouts of the couple in room A8, who were obviously fighting again, she pushed open the broken glass doors and stepped out into the sun. She turned right and walked almost three miles, finally coming to a bus stop that went where she wanted to go to. She boarded the bus and rode it for a full hour and a half, reading a beat-up copy of 'Island of the Blue Dolphins', the only possession she had left from her glory days with Hikari. She finally stepped off of the bus and walked another three miles.
Taking a deep breath and looking around, Myshel sighed. This was the one other place, other than her dreams, that she loved to visit. It was a small valley, secluded from the busy city, set in the hills before you got to the mountains. There was a single Spanish oak tree, the only Spanish oak within thousands of miles (who knows how it got there...) that sat off to one corner of the valley. Myshel walked over to it and dropped her bag in a heap on the ground. She looked up at the crystal blue sky and closed her eyes. Sighing deeply once again, she dropped into a defensive stance and began to practice her forms.
Out of everything she did, training was what brought her the most joy. Wait a second, training was the only thing she did that brought her any joy, minus dreaming. The funny thing is, she had no idea why. She could move at insanely fast speeds for anyone she'd ever known, heck, she could even levitate a few inches off of the ground and float from point A to point B, and she still had no idea why. As far as she knew, she was just a very strange, very messed up girl with a very messed up past, and there was nothing she could do about it.
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The early morning sunlight poured in through her window, and Rejhan awoke almost instantly, blinded for a moment by its intensity.
Throwing her covers aside, the seventeen year old girl jumped out of bed, now fully awake, and hurriedly changed out of her pyjamas and into her fighting gi. Her gi consisted of a royal blue pair of pants, and a royal blue, baggy vest. Under the vest she wore a black tank top, and on her feet she wore ankle high, flat black boots. Black wristbands, and a black belt tied securely around her waist completed her outfit.
Pulling her shoulder length black hair up into a messy ponytail, Rejhan made her way to the bathroom. Quietly, so as not to wake her still sleeping brothers and parents, Rejhan turned the tap on and splashed ice cold water onto her face. Quickly brushing her teeth, then drying her face off with a towel, Rejhan then crept out of the house.
Breathing in the fresh mountain air, Rejhan started her morning jog, heading in the direction of the forest that surrounded her home in the mountains.
This was a regular routine for the teenaged girl. Being the only daughter of the greatest fighter on the planet, one would think that she would not have to creep around in order to get any training done. But that was definitely not the case.
Rejhan was the twin sister of Gohan, and the twins were the eldest out of Goku and Chichi's three children. Rejhan and Gohan also had a younger brother, Goten. Gohan and Goten had both been taught to fight from a young age, and were now very powerful warriors. Rejhan, however, was never given the warrior treatment from her dad. Instead, she had been forced to remain at home with her mother, who disagreed greatly with the training of her only daughter, while her brother and father went out to help save the planet from numerous evil forces.
As a way of rebelling against her parent's wishes for her to keep out of battle, Rejhan had begun training herself. Over time, she had developed her own fighting style and abilities, while the rest of her family were oblivious to what she did in her spare time. It had taken her quite some time, but Rejhan had developed a very unique way of training herself.
Because she had to train in secret, Rejhan had taken to watching her father and brother train. This was not always an easy thing to do, as the two Saiyan warriors often moved at super human speed. To combat this, Rejhan started to focus not on their physical forms, but on their ki forms instead. It took many months of practice, but Rejhan had finally managed to sharpen her senses to a point where picking up ki signatures was second nature to her. Pushing this ability even further, Rejhan managed to turn the energy that she could sense from a fighter into a visual image. If she was sensing her father and brother sparring, for example, she could use her unique 'sight' to create energy forms on the inside of her eyelids. She could close her eyes and follow their every move, just by watching the energy forms that their ki produced. In this way, Rejhan could be sitting at home doing her homework, and be watching Goku and Gohan sparring miles away, at the exact same time. As long as she could sense their energy, it didn't matter where they were, Rejhan could still watch their every move. It was by using this technique that Rejhan was able to mimic the fighting style of both her father and brother, which lead to her developing her own, very unique way of fighting.
Of course, if her family ever found out that she had been secretly training herself, she would be in big trouble. Her mother was so overprotective of her, and her father didn't want to cause his long-suffering wife any more grief. Because of this, Rejhan's every move was usually closely watched. Early mornings, or late afternoons when the boys were out sparring were the only times when Rejhan was free to do whatever she wanted.
Continuing her jog into the mountains, Rejhan quickened her pace to a flat-out run. Running as fast as she could through the trees, Rejhan soon came to the top of a ridge. Stopping to catch her breath, she looked down into the small valley below; her training haven. The valley was little more than a clearing, spanning about two hundred by one hundred meters, yet it was all the space that she needed.
Making her way to the bottom, Rejhan started doing some basic stretches. Once she had finished, she practiced doing some kicks and punches at invisible opponents, ducking and weaving every now and then. After a while, she jumped up into the air, using her ki to enable her to fly, and continued to fight her invisible opponents.
All of a sudden, Rejhan froze in mid air, closing her eyes. She could have sworn that she had sensed someone else's ki just then.
'It can't be dad or the boys...' Rejhan thought, knowing full well that they would not begin doing any sort of training until after they had eaten breakfast. Breakfast wasn't due for another two hours. 'So who could it be?'
The energy had disappeared, and Rejhan struggled to pinpoint it again. She was certain that it didn't belong to any of the other Z-Fighters, yet in the split second that she had felt it for, she could have sworn that it was indeed a strong fighting signature.
After failing to locate it again, Rejhan went back to her training. After another ten minutes, the unknown energy signal flared up again. Stopping her training immediately, Rejhan used her sight to see exactly who owned the ki signature.
The form was slow to take shape, as the person's ki was starting to fade again, yet Rejhan finally managed to form it into the shape of a young girl. Details about the person's appearance were unclear, as all Rejhan could see was a mass of blue energy in the shape of a person. She could only tell that it was a young girl by the size and shape that the energy took on.
Seeing that the girl was alone, and sensing that she was in a forest clearing not too far away, Rejhan took to the sky. Suppressing her energy so that her family wouldn't sense her, Rejhan sped as fast as she could to the girl's location, watching her all the while with her sight.
The girl was going through a series of martial arts moves when Rejhan landed, and she saw that the occasional flare of power that had drawn her here was due to the girl executing a few moves while hovering in the air for short periods of time, before dropping gracefully back to the ground. It seemed like hovering required a fair amount of energy, which was why Rejhan had picked her up with her sight in the first place.
Rejhan casually made her way over to the girl, watching her fighting technique with interest. When she was close enough, Rejhan forced herself to cough, alerting the other girl to her presence.
Spinning around defensively, the girl dropped into a fighting stance. Rejhan noticed that the girl's ice blue eyes were watching her with the intensity of a hawk, and for a moment Rejhan didn't dare make any sudden moves.
"Who are you?" The girl asked suspiciously.
"My name's Rejhan. I....uh......was wondering if you needed a sparring partner?" Rejhan asked, unsure of what else to say.
The girl relaxed slightly, but was still watching Rejhan closely. "Why?" She eventually asked.
"Well, I saw you training, and thought that since we were both training without partners that we could, you know, train together." Rejhan said, taking a step closer to the girl. "What's your name by the way?"
Myshel looked suspiciously at this new character. She seemed about her age, but it was very awkward to have someone come up to her like this and just abruptly ask to train with her. How on earth did she find her in the first place?
"Myshel," The girl said after a slight pause. "You're into fighting too?"
"All of the men in my family are, but they don't want me to train. So, I do it in secret. What about you?" Rejhan asked.
Myshel shrugged before answering. "I train because it's one of the only things I have to look forwards to during the day." She sighed. "In fact, it's the only thing."
Rejhan nodded, understanding perfectly well what Myshel meant. Her own mother was continually trying to teach Rejhan how to cook, mend clothes, and other such domestic things just to keep her daughter's mind off of fighting, yet it didn't work. Rejhan lived for her training, as sometimes, it was the only thing that stopped her from going crazy.
"So, do you want to spar?" Rejhan asked, smiling slightly at the girl. "I have about an hour and a half until my folks will be expecting me for breakfast."
Myshel thought for a moment, unsure of what to do. Myshel loved her training, but she had never had a partner before. She had never known anyone who would be able to keep up with her speed before, yet this girl seemed eager to train with her.
"What the hell, sure." Myshel eventually said, causing Rejhan to smile broadly at her.
'This ought to be fun.' Rejhan thought to herself, remembering the fighting strength that she had sensed earlier in Myshel's ki. 'Really fun.'