[Author's Notes: I love everyone who reviewed. All seven of you. You're my new best friends. Well, anyway... I'm *really* not trying to bash Trunks or anything, it's just I kinda needed someone to be evil and jerky.. well I'll fix him later. But right now I'm twisting his character for my own personal pleasure-- please don't hurt me! Seperate little notes.. to Nadesico: yup, that's the story :) And thanks again to everyone who reviewed. To those who didn't.. um.. review? Please?]
Rule 2: You make your own Fate.
I picked up the receiver again with trembling hands. 'This isn't funny, Pan. You have to do this. Now.' I'd been doing this all afternoon, over and over again, trying to work up the courage to tell him, the courage to move on. "That's it!" Only a growl left my lips and I hurled the receiver at the ground, "I can't do this."
Curling up on the bed, I struggled to close my eyes and clear my mind. This wasn't how it was supposed to work. Hadn't I finally worked the courage to earn my place by his side? What happened to the happy ending?
Close these eyes and clear my mind, close my eyes and clear this...
--
"Panny, darling, what's wrong?" Sympathy, concern, pity... that's all I've ever gotten. Worry that I don't need, don't deserve... and it's all his fault. All of it. Without answering, I burst out of my room and down the stairs in a blur, finding the phone once more. This time around, I could do it.
My fingers found the right numbers without guidance, and the words flew through my lips without a second thought. "Trunks? I saw you." It wasn't courage speaking, this newfound desire wasn't courage. It was jealousy. Pure, unrivaled anger. "I saw you."
I didn't have to hear it to know that my voice must've been filled with venom; deadlier than a snake's bite. That's who I was, after all, that's who everyone thought I was. Tough Panny the tomboy, Mr. Satan's rebellious granddaughter. But me, did I ever feel like that? Yeah, right. Try Little Panny the Coward.
"Panny? Wait-- uh, can we talk then? Face to face?" His voice hadn't changed at all and instantly, regret flooded my senses. I shouldn't have called him, I shouldn't have said it, I shouldn't have... "Please Panny?"
--
Cold, cold, cold... that's all I remember about that night. It was cold. Shivering even beneath my layers of jackets and sweaters, I trudged through the snow, on this path I had taken for as long as I could remember. 'The house isn't too far off,' I remember thinking, 'maybe I should sprint from here.' Frozen breath rose like smoke from my lips, ragged breath, and I realized that running would take too much energy; better walk after all.
He was walking beside me... close enough to watch, but too far to touch. A sigh escaped his lips, a puff of fog took flight, and his usual cheerfulness flew along with it. 'Some girl he liked was about to dump him,' Bra's grave words came back quickly, 'so he dumped her first. I guess he really liked her. But Trunks would probably shrivel up and die the day a girl dumped him!' I tried vainly to suppress the giggle that the mental image brought on. 'But what kind of idiot would dump Trunks?' What a moron I was then.
"Uh... Trunks? Are you okay?" I must've sounded so stupid, gazing up at him with those hopeful eyes. But I didn't know what else to say. He rewarded my efforts with a warm laugh and a smile. Fake? Probably, but I didn't notice. Not then. I was naive then.
Chuckling to himself, Trunks slid his arm over my shoulder and pulled me closer; filled me with his own special warmth. I had nothing left to complain about that night.
--
Sometimes I still wonder why my heart didn't just stop then, and sometimes I wish it did. I wouldn't be here otherwise; I wouldn't be fidgeting here tonight, trying desperately to avoid his gaze. I suppose life is never that easy.
"You look like someone died," he commented, noting my rather dreary expression, "just let me explain, okay?" Calm, too calm. He was always much, much too calm... how did he expect to weasel himself out of this one? In two years, I'd seen him with, more or less, around fifteen different girls. Fifteen. If this wasn't Trunks we were talking about, I'd have to say that must've broken some kind of record.
"The girl-- she was one of Bra's friends," confidence flowed through his veins like blood, "they're planning something for her birthday and she wanted to ask me a few questions. That's it." Something inside me somewhere was exploding-- I could hear it, I could feel it. There were so many reasons that challenged his confession, but most convincing of all was the feeling that rushed through me. The bitter, aching tide that washed over my senses, stronger than any gut feeling, stronger than any numbers or facts.
--
"How do you know he was actually lying?" Marron's cool voice floated in from the kitchen, where she occupied herself by mixing things together and trying her best to comfort me. "I'm not taking his side or anything, but--"
"She was a brunette," I couldn't describe that feeling to Marron, the right words couldn't be found, so instead I added, "Trunks is partial to brunettes." I couldn't meet her gaze, not in this weakened state, but Marron's apartment was the closest to the apartment and I just couldn't bring myself to go home. Daddy would take one look at me and run off to kill Trunks, and somehow, that didn't appeal to me.
--
"Does it really mean that much to you?" His voice took an uncharacteristic tone, harsh and angry, "You're too young to know what love means. And this is what love is supposed to be like at our age. No one finds their soul mate at... how old are you again? Fourteen? Quit dreaming, Pan, this is life."
Anger flooded my vision, blinded my senses, who was he to judge me? What did he know about love? Only five years older and he spoke as if he were my father... in just those words, he wrote off these feelings, these emotions that had been building up over the years... "Don't you ever think about Fate?"
Those chance encounters came to mind once more, so many little things, details that I treasured were nothing to him. "Girls are stupid like that, do you really believe your path is set? Don't be an idiot Panny, you make your own fate. I'm not bound to you or any other girl."
And there we have it, straight from the lips of Tokyo's most sought-after bachelor; You make your own fate. And my response? I didn't stay and fight; I ran. Past the place where he first kissed me, past the grove where we walked side by side, past the fountain that gave me a place by his side, past it all. Somewhere along the way, I trampled those glass shards of the world I once knew, and glass lodged itself into my stockinged feet. A trail of blood must've followed me, but I didn't mind... I wouldn't die from losing a bit of blood. It was the scars that I saw then, and I still see today... but that's okay. Good, even. Scars to remind me of how stupid I once was.
Abruptly, I stopped, turning back in his direction, "...and Trunks? I'm sixteen."
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Stay tuned for the next rule-- You never know if you don't try. What happens? That's a secret. ^.~
