Redemption's Side
Disclaimer: Dragonball Z and all its characters © Akira Toriyama, BIRD STUDIO/SHUEISHA, TOEI Animation. Licensed by FUNimation Production, Ltd. All Rights Reserved
Disclaimer 2: All fictional character © Eileen Ayling Setiawan (author) and any aliases she assumes (H-san, Hina-chan, etc…)
Author's Note: This takes place after the first part of Masshiro na Yuki: Pure White Snow, my fanfiction about Kinoko, the female Saiya-jin. It's a filler of sorts.
Author's Note 2: This was inspired by vege-chan from deviantArt.
Chapter One: The First Day of the Rest of Your Life
U.S. Military : a popular brand of clothing known for its army motif. They are inspired by the military style; however, add flair to an otherwise plain piece of apparel. This brand is only second to the popular Capsule Corp. style of clothing, however, unlike CC's diverse range; the U.S. Military brand fills a niche in the market.
Cell landed on Earth, the smell of day-old garbage and urine polluting his senses. He coughed, one eye forced shut from the smell and his hands pressed over his mouth and nose as he tried to rid his senses of this disgusting odour. He looked forward, seeing a busy, bustling street ahead of him. People walked by, laughing and going about their daily business. He stumbled forward, heading towards the light. However, just as he was about to reach fresh, clean air, Jaena appeared on his shoulder, tutting.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk," she said, wagging a finger and giving him a sly look. "I wouldn't if I were you."
Cell's eyes lowered, annoyed at the meddling of this woman.
"This place reeks. I need air!" he snapped, whacking her with a wave of his hand.
She screamed, soaring into the distance. A minute later, she appeared before him, her hair aflame.
"Don't do that!" she yelled, her fists bunched up at her sides and her legs apart as she glared death and dagger at the young man.
He smirked, clearly enjoying her anger. However, the smirk was wiped off his face as her hair went abruptly blue and she gave a smirk of her own.
"Look down bug-boy," she said, her expression sly once again.
Cell looked confused as his eyes trailed slowly down. A visible blush spread across his cheeks as the human-part of him realised his indecent public display. Unconsciously, his hand reached out and grabbed the lid off a trashcan, placing it over his nether regions. Once again, Cell glared at his ogress therapist, whom beamed with triumph.
"Baka…" he mumbled.
Jaena glared, but refrained her hair from bursting into flames. Instead, she sighed, and disappeared into pocket space. Cell blinked, momentarily stunned.
"H-hey… I…" Cell looked around. He then scoffed. "I don't need her help…" He walked forward, bracing himself for his first encounter with Earth.
A vein of annoyance was visible upon Cell's head as he walked through the streets, many staring at the naked man. Some scoffed, others giggled, some were embarrassed to look at him. He still held the lid to his frontal nether regions, yet he could feel all eyes on his backside. As he passed a group of girls, they giggled. He overheard one of them say something about a "cute butt", which strangely made him blush. He shook his head vigorously and walked faster.
Embarrassment? Surely such a being as him could not feel embarrassment.
Preposterous!
As he continued to stride, a noticeboard caught his attention. He stopped short, looking up and seeing the words 'Tenkaichi Budoukai' flash across the screen high above the tall building. He had heard of that before, the World Martial Arts Tournament. No doubt certain people would be there. He smirked, wondering if he could make some trouble of his own.
Jaena interrupted his musings.
"I don't think so," she said matter-of-factly, standing on his shoulder with her arms crossed.
Cell looked to her, once again getting annoyed. "Whaddya want?" he snapped.
"If you go to the Tournament, you'll only invoke emotions of hatred, which will consume you and hinder you from progressing. It's a true fact that hatred is a strong emotion, an emotion that is best that you don't –" Jaena's psychobabble was cut short as Cell absently waved his hand in her direction, once again sending the ogress flying into the distance.
He continued to walk, stopping abruptly in front of a store called "Bob's Boutique: Men's Clothes with Flair". He cocked a brow, looking at the mannequins on display. He looked down at the clothes marked 15 off. A smirk played on his face.
"This will count in your assessment, you know," said a voice in his left ear.
Cell rolled his eyes and waved his hands over his left ear, satisfied as a scream could be heard getting farther into the distance. His eyes shifted left and right, finding that very few passed by. Reaching out, he grabbed a speckled-looking shirt and black pants, fleeing as he heard a yell from inside the shop. He continued to run, hearing the sound of the man behind him. He looked behind his shoulder, seeing a round-looking man follow after him, his run looking more like a wobble.
Piece o'cake… thought Cell. He tried to summon his ki as he ran, trying to raise himself off the ground. Then it hit him… he could not fly. A giggle resounded from his right ear this time.
"Told you…" she said, her voice mocking.
He growled, throwing the trashcan lid over his shoulder to hit her. He heard a yell from behind as the man after him nearly tripped on the rolling lid. At least that bought him time and got rid of the annoying ogress. He looked forward, seeing a fire escape. Taking his chance, he jumped onto a raised platform, a fire hydrant, and lunged towards the ladder. The ladder slid down, coming to an abrupt stop, as Cell scrambled up. He then climbed up the stairs, hearing the clanging of metal as the man chased after him.
"Doesn't this guy give up…" he mumbled, reaching the top platform. He looked around… dead end. "Kuso…" He looked down, seeing the man racing up, his face red and his chest heaving. Looking up, he saw the roof. Immediately, he could feel his brain whirring for an idea. He saw the windowsill, the pipe, the roof, and then, he took action.
Cell put a step onto the windowsill. He used it as leverage, pushing himself off from it. Next thing he knew, he was soaring. But as he reached out, it seemed the "other" side of him was not happy with this choice. A surge of panic bubbled in his stomach, nearly causing Cell to miss the pipe. Luckily, he grabbed it, gripping tightly. He looked to his left, where he had jumped from, seeing the man who was after him with bulging eyes as if astonished with what had just happened.
"Thanks for this," said Cell cockily, clambering up the pipe and onto the roof, leaving a bewildered shop manager behind. As he reached the roof, Cell walked to the centre and collapsed on his knees, feeling weak. His muscles cramped and his hands hurt. Sweat poured down his face as his chest heaved in and out. He fell onto his back, looking up at the blue sky as the stolen goods were still bundled in his arms.
He closed his eyes for several seconds, drenching in the sun. As his heart calmed down, Cell sat up, looking down at this new formation. When he had first seen it, he was surprised. He had never seen this type of growth before. What was it?
"Well if you really want to know…" said a familiar voice, causing Cell to look up. Jaena floated before him. "It's called a…"
"How do you know what I'm thinking?" he asked, his brows slanted in aggravated annoyance.
"'Course I do," she began. "It's my responsibility as your therapist to know your active thoughts."
"Active thoughts?" Cell cocked a green brow.
"Yeah. The thoughts that you're consciously thinking," she answered.
He stared at her incredulously, raised his hands, and flicked her away. She popped back a minute later.
"FINE!" she yelled, her hair aflame once again. "I'll leave you to your own devices! Stupid bug…" With that she disappeared once again.
Cell sighed, running his hands through his new patch of hair. He felt it, noticing how long it was. He wondered if these used to be the outgrowths on his head. He did not want to know. He felt a deep feeling of self-pity, which made him feel worthless.
Again, he shook his head vigorously.
Self-pity? Worthlessness?
Why was he feeling like this?
He growled, snatching up the shirt and looking at it. It was speckled with greens and blacks, a badge pinned to the chest area reading 'U.S Militiary'. He grimaced at the obviously fake product. He sighed, opening it from the bottom and slipping it on. He straightened the shirt, shaking his hair free from it. He then grabbed the pants, rolling them out and observing them. They were black, with golden stitching. Two belts hung from the waistline. Cell muttered something about unnecessary wastage and pulled them on. He felt a slight tingle up his spine as his hand brushed against his nether regions. He swallowed hard, wondering what exactly that was, but decided to ignore it as he pulled up the zipper and buttoned the top. Dressed and ready, he moved to the side, looking over at the street below. A case of vertigo hit him and he felt the whole world sway. He tumbled backwards, edging away from the edge. Standing, he wondered how he could get down. Then, he saw the doorway. Using stairs was such a human thing… how could he possibly bring himself to…?
Growling, he strode to the door, grabbed the handle and, without a second thought, walked into the cloister of the apartment building.
Cell ran down the stairs two steps at a time, hurriedly trying to get out of the building. His attempt was hindered as someone coming from the other direction collided into him. A cry escaped the other person's throat as she fell down from the collision; her ascent stopped as Cell absently lashed out and caught her. He stared at her, their gaze blank for some time before the girl smiled at him.
"Gomen, I didn't mean to collide into you like that," she said, letting go of his hand and standing upright. She absently pushed a lock of black hair behind her ear, crossing her arms and peering at him with a curious stare.
"I've never seen you around here before. What's your business here?" she said.
He gave a sidelong glance, not sure of what to say. Finally, all that came out was a pathetic: "Ano…"
She giggled.
"Looking for accommodation?"
"Uh… yeah… I…"
"Thought so," she laughed. "It doesn't look like you're visiting anyone." She sighed, stretching, and noticed his shirt.
"Oh, you like 'U.S. Military' too…?" She blinked at the logo, noticing the imitation brand, and laughed. "Don't worry… I once got duped into buying fake as well…"
"I…"
"Hey, anyway, gotta go dude. Nice talking to you and thanks for catching me," she ended, squeezing past him and continuing up the stairs.
He stood in the stairwell for a total of three minutes, staring at the wall opposite him. Then, he cocked a brow and continued going down, muttering under his breath.
"Dude? Why'd she call me dude? And what's this 'U.S. Military' crap…?"
On his shoulder, Jaena giggled, recording his good deed on her list.
Cell walked down the street in his new clothes. Once again, he passed by the advertisement, flashing the words 'Tenkaichi Budoukai' across the screen. He kept his eyes on the advertisement, the location and the order of transport to this Papaya Island appearing on screen. Cell smirked, heading towards the dock. It was no wonder this location was familiar. It was South City. He looked at the roads circling the city, remembering the many people who had succumbed to his power. Now…
Cell looked at his hands, growling. Now he was a mere Earthling, or at least trapped in an Earthling body. His walk turned to an angry stride as he continued to head down the road, which lead to the docks.
Reaching the docks, he saw that there was a ferry, loading people aboard. He walked towards that particular ferry, seeing that it was headed for Papaya Island. He watched as the others went aboard the ferry, and then walked forwards. As he was about to board the boat, a man waiting at the plank stopped him.
"Ticket," he said, more a statement than a question.
"What?" asked Cell.
"Ticket. You know; it's a little piece of paper that allows admission onto the ferry. No ticket, no entry," said the ferryman.
Cell stared, one part of him wanting to punch the man in the face. However, he listened to the side of him that told him to walk away, and that's just what he did. Standing from a distance, he watched others board the ferry, handing the man little green pieces of paper. Where did they get those from anyway?
"The ticket booth," answered the voice of Jaena as she appeared before him, standing just a few centimetres from his nose.
Cell had to go slightly cross-eyed to look at her, earning him some weird stares from some people.
"A what?" he asked, quite loudly, earning him even more strange looks.
"Ticket booth. A booth that sells tickets. However, you won't be able to get anything."
"Why?"
"Because you have no money. Money is power in this world."
Cell gave a sidelong glance, remembering something like money from one of his victims. It was that time with Piccolo.
"Where do I get that from?" asked Cell.
Jaena looked thoughtful. "Work," she finally answered.
"Work?"
"Yeah, but it'd take you a few months…"
"I don't have a few months!"
"Okay, okay, no need to yell. Then it's simple. Don't go, like I suggested. It'll only bring anger which will hinder you from…"
Cell swiped her away as if a fly were in front of his face, causing her to whirl into the air, screaming. He did not want to hear more of her pathetic psychobabble. He sighed, noticing all the strange looks he was getting. For a few moments he stared at those who stared at him, and then, something like a switch flicked in his head.
"What!" he yelled, his temper flaring.
The people stopped staring, hastily murmuring things under their breath and walking away. Cell growled, wondering how he had gotten into such a disaster. The sound of a low horn caught his attention. He looked forward, watching as the ferry left the dock.
"Kuso!" he yelled, once again diverting attention to himself. Ignoring their stares, he ran forward, past the ferryman, who yelled for him to stop, and leapt off the dock.
A loud gasp could be heard from behind as Cell did just as he did before. Using the dock as leverage, Cell sprung forward, arms outstretched towards the ferry. For a moment, Cell thought he would not make it, but then, the platform grew bigger and bigger, until…
Success.
Cell grabbed onto the ledge, his shoulder muscle pulling and causing him to wince in pain. He hung onto the railing with one arm, looking behind and watching the ferryman as he yelled profanity at the young reincarnated man. Smirking, Cell clambered up the ferry and rested upon the railing. He looked down, grimacing as he saw the propeller where he had been hanging. Imagine if he had let go… he would have been mincemeat, literally.
Scared of a propeller?
He had never, ever been scared of a propeller before!
Cell shook his head, turning around to lean his back on the railing. He placed both arms on the railing and looked at the people as they went about their business on the ferry. Some were still staring at him, some amazed, others disgusted. There was one boy in particular who was standing right by him, staring up at him with huge blue eyes. Cell looked down at him, one half of him growing increasingly annoyed with the young boy. Finally, he let his anger consume.
"What are you staring at?" he snapped.
The reaction of the boy was slow, but it was there. First, he continued staring blankly, then slowly, the blank expression contorted into one of scared anguish, the creases growing as the boy's eyes shut tight and his mouth frowned.
Cell took a step back in shock as a loud wail erupted from the boy's throat, tears springing forth from his blue orbs. Cell's hands went instinctively up, as if trying to keep the boy away and calm him down at the same time.
"O… oi…" said Cell, looking down at the boy. "D… don't cry…" His demands did not help as the boy continued to cry, wailing and wailing.
To make matters worse, a woman came from the upper deck, her face contorted into anger.
"How dare you!" she cried, turning to Cell.
Cell stared, incredulous.
"Don't you ever yell at my boy! Don't even touch him you… you punk!" She gave Cell a hard whack on the left bicep, which actually hurt, and stalked away, carrying the wailing boy.
All others on the ferry stared at Cell with disgust as he watched with an incredulous look. Cell sighed, turning his back.
"I wish I was dead…" mumbled the young man.