Their Life as We Don't Know It

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonball Z or its awesome characters that I wish I could be like. And I don't own Scott Pilgrim either. Jeez, I don't even own a car.

A/N: Welcome to chapter four! This, I think, would be the most imaginative chapter yet! And actually, one of these one-shots called Waiters is a bit . . . long. So next chapter will have part two in it. Aaannd, btw, my one-shots are all a bit long, these days. And that equals a shorter chapter. Hope that's not a problem, though. There's no way I can do like, 25 per chapter like ChronicallyinFlaming. Her (his?) stories are great. Anyway, Review Please!

33: She's Not Who You Think She Is:

When he'd sauntered in and told them that he now had a decent girlfriend, of course he had been swelled with pride from all their praises and such, being raided by questions from Bulma like, "Is she pretty? Like, really pretty and intelligent this time? And not a cheater?"

And Krillin had smiled proudly, nodding his head enthusiastically. "Uh, huh, yep! She's gorgeous! And really . . . smart, too!" His answer received cheers of satisfactory.

Chichi was next, deciding to ask him something that she would benefit in a way from: "Is she rich? Does she have a house so that you can get married and move outta this porn-filled home and when Goten comes over to be babysat, you can do it properly in a decent house?" Her voice was too excited.

Krillin deflated a bit. "Er, no, actually." And then he puffed out his chest a little bit. "But look at the bright side . . . she's staying at the Kame House!"

To others, it wasn't such a bright side. And maybe when the girl found out just exactly how his roommates lived, there really wouldn't be a bright side.

Well, actually, Oolong and Roshi had released a delighted, little yip. But Piccolo, who had been meditating in the air above them merely 'hmphed', muttering, "Poor girl."

Yamcha had leapt forward, clutching him by the front of his shirt. "Describe her for me!"

And the ex-monk was glad to. "Yeah, so, she's . . . really beautiful and blonde and unique. Seriously. There's other person like her out there. 'Scept for her brother, maybe."

Chichi cocked her head. "What's her brother look like?"

"Eh," Krillin waved it away nonchalantly, "you know him. Looks just like her. Her twin, I think she mentioned."

Bulma studied him a bit. "Say, what's her name, Krillin?"

"Juuhachigou." He'd wasted no time in replying. He loved that name . . . the way it rolled off his lips. "Her name's Juuhachigou. Remember her? From the whole Cell incident? She likes me now. Does that name ring a bell to you all?"
"Oh," said Yamcha, his voice suddenly low and emotionless. "That chick."

"Oh," Chichi had echoed.

And Bulma had frowned as if she knew another normal "brains and beautiful" girl out there was too good to be true. "Oh."

Krillin just grinned, his glory clouding out the tones of his friends' voices. "I know! Isn't it great?"

34: Mystery Meat . . . and, like, whatever else was in his bowl:

She watched him scorn and prod at the food she had placed in front of him with his spoon, her patience waning.

"Go on. Eat it."

He poked at it again before staring up at her with shining, black eyes. "What is it?"

She crossed her arms. "Food. Now if you're hungry, I suggest you eat it."

"Eh, actually, I'm not hungry anymore. Just lost my appetite."

Somewhat irritated, she thrust the bowl into his face. "Eat it, dammit!"

Because after slaving over a stove for two hours just for him, she'd think she at least deserved her food to be eaten. Seriously. But there he was, scooping it up with his spoon, and then dropping it back.

"Mmm, yeah, but what is it? Ew, it's all gray and goopy."

She frowned deeply at him, her cheeks growing hot. "It's stew, okay?"

He raised a brow. "Huh. Stew? What'd you make this out of?"

She gave him "a look." "Gosh, it's a secret, alright? My secret recipe."

"I really hope your secret recipe is edible."

She glared at him through cerulean eyes. "Don't make me spoon-feed you."

But he continued on. "You know, I think I saw something similar to this in Oolong's room, between the floorboards."

She was growling now. "Krillin, I swear, I will force this down your throat if you don't comply."

He stared into the bowl again. "Aw, seriously, Juu, I'm not hungry anymore."

She lunged for the spoon, wrenching it from his fists. "Eat it! Eat it! I worked hard to make this!"

He was pushing away from her. "Juuhachigou, it moved! I swear I just saw it move!"

She was busy forcing it into his lips. "Quit stalling; it's getting cold!"

He shoved at her. "Gah, stop it, Juu! I'm not hungry!"

The food fell off of the spoon, much to her aggravation, and she made to get another spoonful, but froze.

"Oh, gosh, it is moving!"

35: A Heart Impure:

She studied it warily, circling it, glaring at it from all angles, listening to it make that bubbling "glub glub" of a noise.

She watched it float there, motionless, except for the edges that rippled around like a treadmill.

She poked at it, it feeling wet, but still dry, hard, but still soft.

She placed a porcelain hand upon the top and had to say that it rested there rather firmly, supporting her hand perfectly.

And then she turned around, declaring, "I can so ride this thing."

He smirked at her, raising a challenging, black eyebrow, his expression practically saying, "Why, I'm sure you can."

Gohan was annoyingly breathing down her neck. "You're sure, Juuhachigou?"

"Course I'm sure," she snapped. She wouldn't be like all like those other idiots that had been overconfident and had thrown themselves at the thing, only to fall right through, their asses hurting as well as their dignity.

She carefully pressed her palms against the top surface, noticing how cold was, and hoisted herself up— where she swiftly fell right through, landing roughly on her stomach, holding in a defeated groan.

While she rolled over, Krillin was tsk-tsking, giving her a knowing look as if he'd "been there, done that."

Gohan was busy calling the old man out, going, "Master Roshi! Master Roshi! Did you see that? Juuhachigou fell through!"

She sat up stiffly, muttering, "Damn cloud."

The Nimbus made a little spurting sound, as if in agreement to Krillin's newest statement, "Ooooh, you just damned the cloud. It'll never let you ride it now."

Fuck if she cared.

36: Krillin the Insignificant Human Vs the World:

Only after their lips parted, was when she admitted to it, heat and redness in her cheeks that filled him with indescribable excitement, "Okay, gosh . . . I like you, too . . . a lot. And you're a damn good kisser."

And Krillin nearly leapt out of his swing. She liked him back! A lot. And he was a damn good kisser!

He was smiling a mile-a-minute, but the blonde on the swing beside him was not. If anything, she was rather somber.

He reached across and put a hand on her thigh, glad that she didn't flick it off. "Hey . . . what's the matter?"

She looked over at him, her azure eyes misted with worry. "I like you a lot . . . but I don't think my family will."

He cocked his head curiously. "Why not?"

"Well, you're bald."

"So? I can't be bald or somethin'?"

"And you're a midget."

"I prefer Midget-American."

"You're really, really awkward."

"Gosh, nobody's perfect!"

She flashed him a rare grin, making his insides melt. "Well, I like you how you are; it's just my family, dammit. They'll hate you, I can tell. Especially my brother. He'd be jealous."

Krillin frowned, massaging her upper leg. "You can't be too sad about that, babe. C'mon, they can't be that bad."

"That's not it," the blonde continued. "They seriously want me to be with someone rich and . . . perfect. Both things you're not."

"Aw, c'mon." Krillin was smiling, goofily. "I can work overtime or something. And act more formal."

Her voice was grave now. "You don't get it! If they hate you, they'll kill you!"

The smile stayed there, frozen on his face, even as his heart skipped a beat. "You can't be serious. They can't . . . kill me, right? I mean, they can hate me a whole bunch, but they won't kill me."

But her face was, in fact, serious. "You don't know my family."

And with that, she briskly strode off, him leaping off the swing after her. "Wait! Where're you going?"

She didn't even bother to turn around. "Home."

His voice was almost thrilled. "Can I come with you? To meet your family? Please?"

"No." He noticed her fists were clenching. "You can't, goshdammit, they'll kill you, you string-bean!"

He shrugged a bit. "I can fight. I know a little moves. It's not like they'll all charge me at once . . . will they?"

The golden-haired beauty shook her head. "I seriously don't know what they'll do. But . . ." There was the slightest smile on her face. ". . . if you defeat them for me, I might get a chance with you . . . for as long as we want."

"Defeat them?" Krillin inquired curiously as the continued along the sidewalk. "You mean like kill em?"

She nodded solemnly. "If you can."

"But . . . they're your family . . . and you want them dead?"

"Uh, huh. They're annoying. Total bothers."

There was no remorse in her voice whatsoever.

Krillin cracked some knuckles. "Oh. Ok. I'll do it then, if they annoy you so much."

He received another kiss, his body going giddy and all drunken-like.
"Thank you, Krillin."

"Yeah . . . heh, you're welcome."

And so the two continued along the path, Juuhachigou seemingly apprehensive, while Krillin outwardly was not.

Pretty soon, when they arrived at a well-kept cabin in the middle of the woods that Krillin desperately hoped was not her house, Juuhachigou announced, "We're here. You know the plan? Defeat my seven annoying family members and we'll see how we end up, ok?"

He couldn't lie and say that he wasn't a bit jittery. After all, he was going to kill.

Juuhachi then stuck the key in the hole and opened the door.

Krillin's legs nearly gave out. "Oh." Because there they were, six weirdoes standing in the doorway as if they'd been waiting for Juu to come home since five AM that day.

One guy was actually purple, wearing a creepy trench coat, chugging from a glass liquor bottle. Or whatever the hell it was.

The other man was unusually tall, like some giant, with a red-haired Mohawk, a Macaw parrot riding on his shoulder.

And there was another fellow, just as tall as the second, but much, much paler, a long braid traveling down his back.

Another guy was a tad shorter, wearing dark green pants and a fur vest. His hat was green and yellow, snow white hair peeking out the sides.

And then there was a fat one with skin like the braided one, him dressed in orange and black clothes that reminded him distinctively of a Halloween Jack O' Lantern, or something.

There was still yet another man, only older than all the rest, matching clothes with the chubby one. His gray hair was long, protruding out of his tall, black RR hat. Whatever the hell it meant.

Krillin's mouth was dry. Oh, gosh, these guys were freaks! "Oh . . . damn."

And then, to top it all off, the seventh man, just as young as the blonde by his side, appeared at the door, grasping a black cat by the neck.

"Oh, hey, Juuhachi!" he greeted while the cat mewed pitifully. "Wanna help me skin this cat?"

Juuhachigou nudged him. "Ok, Krillin. You ready?"

He slumped to his knees, his voice weak. "Oh. I'm afraid I can't do this."

37: Waiters, part 1: (A/N: the beginning of this is very . . . straightforward.)

"I got us a job."

Juuhachigou averted her attention from the TV, looking up sharply. "Huh?"

"As waiters."

She stared at her brother in disbelief. "You didn't."

He grinned. "I did."

"You're joking."

"I'm not. Our shift's five o' clock today."

Juuhachigou wanted to grab him by his stupid orange scarf and strangle him to death.

"Well, I'm not going," she declared.

Juunanagou smirked. "Yes, you are. They give us money! Tips. Two thousand zennie a week."

"So?"

"Money buys clothes."

Ok. Fine. He had a point there. He was going to whatever the hell the restaurant was called to get some money. Maybe about after 50,000 zennie, she'd quit. Then burn her waiter clothes. And maybe Juunanagou's face.

(A/N: See, very straight-forward.)

5:00 that day.

Ugh. The outfit was tight. She felt a drop of sweat roll down her back. Had this goshdamn restaurant ever heard of AC? Cuz those fans were definitely not helping.

Ok. Juuhachigou took a deep breath, her eyes scanning the restaurant and its annoying tangerine-colored walls. She had table five. The one next to the window. Or was it on the other end, near the entrance? Or under one of the fans? Or—

"It's the one next to the window, in case you're lost." A mocking voice filled her left ear.

She swiped at him and narrowly missed. "Oh, shut up. Which table have you got?"

Juunanagou smiled sarcastically. "Table four. Right next to yours incase you get lonely, sis."

Juuhachigou rolled her eyes and headed to her table. There was a small man with a short crop of black hair wearing a striped orange shirt and black pants studying a menu. Actually, if she hadn't squinted really hard, she would've mistaken him for a kid. Or maybe a toddler.

"Good afternoon," she mumbled glumly. "My name's Juuhachigou and I will be ser—"

She stopped short staring at the man in astonishment. He had looked up from his menu and then she'd seen his noseless face. Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, it was him!

The short man was staring as well, ogling her black and white waiters' attire, shocked. "Juu-Juuhachigou?"

The blonde android wanted to throw up, her mouth going dry. "'Scuse me f-for a second."

And she scrambled to the table in front of her. "Juunanagou, trade with me."

Her twin doubled back in surprise, nearly falling on the table of the family of four. "W-wha?"

"Trade tables with me, dammit!"

"What? Why?" And then Juunanagou glanced behind him at the confused looking ex-monk, a smirk resting on his lips. "Oh."

"Yeah, oh." Juuhachigou looked at him again. "Oh. Oh, goshdammit, I gotta serve him! Him!" She didn't dare say his name in case of more bad luck.

The dark haired android only laughed. "Tough luck, Juuhachi! I'm keeping this table!

She looked at him through hate filled eyes, wanting to pour the drinks he'd just served down his pants.

Juunanagou jumped back a step. "Eh, sorry. You get cueball tonight."

Juuhachigou knew he was so not sorry. "Fine."

And then she muttered something incoherent under her breath and trudged back to her table.

"I'm terribly . . . sorry for taking off like that," Juuhachigou apologized laboriously, forcing a smile. "May I take your order?"

Krillin grinned warmly. "Ah, I'm still deciding what to eat. So, Juu, long time no see; how have you been?" He spoke to her as if he'd seen her other than three times, all of them containing life or death situations.

She stared at him with icy, blue eyes, saying stiffly, "I'm . . . fine."

"Oh, that's great!" The annoying man continued. "How's your brother? Does he still where that bandana?"

"He's fine, too. And yes, he stills wears that scarf."

And then he cocked his head, seemingly confounded. "But . . . you're a waitress now? Seriously? I thought you'd be a supermodel or something, but a waitress . . . ?"

"Why? Does it bother you?" Juuhachigou asked hopefully. She was dying to add, "Lighten up that pathetic crush much?" And what the fuck, a supermodel?

"No, actually," Krillin answered brightly. "You look real good in waiters' clothing. Cute."

Blood and bile rose in Juuhachigou's throat. Oh, gross. She wanted to stain and tear outfit, then ask just how cute she thought he was then.

But what if she thought ripped clothing was sexy? Punkish?

So she just glared at him as he rambled on, not seeming to notice: "Hey, I'm so glad you're fine, really, cuz after that Cell incident, I thought my friends would've come to destroy you already and that wouldn't have been good. Cuz like, what if Bulma made a second controller, cuz then I'd have to break that one too, and trust me, the first time wasn't fun . . . seeing you a vulnerable l—"

"Are you ready to order something yet?" Juuhachigou interrupted sharply.

"Oh . . . yeah." Krillin took a look at the menu again. "I guess I'll have a . . . Chef Salad."

She couldn't believe him. She was serving him cuz all he wanted was some damn salad? Gosh, she swore . . . .

"Are you serious?" The blonde asked in disbelief. "You can make that at home, dammit!"

He frowned, fingering the lacy table, his face seemingly embarrassed. "Eh . . . I'm no good at making salads."

Uuhh huh. Really?

Ignoring that tragedy of his, she scribbled a bit on her notepad. "Um, so one Chef Salad. Anything to drink?

He thought for awhile. "Maybe some . . . water?"

Juuhachigou stared at him blankly, hoping she was paid enough for this. "Ok . . . water and a Chef Salad. That's all?"

He looked uncertain. "Umm . . . well, it depends. Does the salad come with everything? Like, cheese and stuff?"

"Yes," she huffed.

"Ok, then. That's it." He looked pleased with himself. What. A. Dork.

Juuhachigou wrote some more on her notepad, specifically, "The moron wants cheese," before switching to go, saying, "I'll be back with your water and salad shortly." Unfortunately.

As she turned to leave, one of Krillin's arms shot out to grasp hers. "Juuhachigou?"

She flinched, momentarily stunned. "Yes?"

His smile was somewhat doting, his eyes genuine and soft. It made her stomach flutter, her breathing going unnaturally rapid and ragged.

"I'm so glad I got to see you again."

And he dropped her arm, letting her go free.

38: A Little Bit, Kind Of:

"Ok, listen . . . I love you . . . a little bit, kind of."

His shiny, bald head had jerked up from whatever the hell he'd been looking at to gaze at her, his black eyes wide with so much disbelief and excitement that it made her wish she had just shut up and had not mentioned anything at all.

And, oh, gosh, she hadn't even said it right.

"No! No, no, I mean, I like you. A little bit, kind of."

He began nodding as if he'd understood the whole concept now, his face wearing a little, smug smile.

"I knew it."

He did not know it. He couldn't have. She was sure she'd never shown it in the slightest bit. She was always turning him down and sneering at him and shoving his head into unidentified things.

Therefore, he could not have known.

So she just stood there wordlessly, not knowing what to say next.

But he did. He was grinning from ear to ear, chattering about a whole bunch of stuff like: "This is great! You know what? I love you, too, and I always have! And now you love me! So now we can get married and buy a house and have a bunch of kids and stuff! And we won't even be like Vegeta and Bulma! When we're frustrated, we don't throw things at each others heads; we'd work it out verbally! This is so great . . . !"

And she just stared at him, gaping in horror and things she did not need to hear. "I-I said . . . a little, damn you."

His smile did not falter. "Yeah, but coming from you, it means a lot!"

39: Arrows:

Krillin awoke on a dusty wood floor, his left shoulder stiff throbbing in pain.

The last thing he'd remembered was walking through the woods, his shoulder suddenly struck with a sharp pain, and then passing out into the pine straw.

He was lying on his stomach, he realized. And then he tried to flip onto his back, cuz his stomach was starting to hurt.

Only he noticed how hard that was. Krillin could barely move any of his limbs. And panic started to rise in his chest.

He heard a whisper from somewhere behind his head: "Shit. I think you paralyzed him."

The other voice was more feminine. "I couldn't have. All I hit was his shoulder."

"You weren't supposed to hit any part of him! Told you couldn't aim worth crud!"

"Just shut up, Juunanagou!"

Juunanagou? Krillin's eyes darted around the room, but didn't see much. It just looked like some hunter's cabin, with all the animal hides and stuff and— wait, was he lying on an old bear skin carpet?

Krillin desperately tried to scoot away, to no avail. He couldn't even sit up.

"I-I know martial arts," he croaked nervously.

"Pfft, so do we, fool," the male snorted. Well, there went the "run away scared" plan.

The mocking voice was so familiar.

"W-why can't I move?" Krillin's voice trembled pathetically as he spoke.

"Cuz my sister shot an arrow through your shoulder."

And then he looked down, seeing an arrow buried halfway into his left shoulder.

The scream came next.

"Well, good going, Juuhachigou," continued the sardonic voice. "Now he's gonna tell his gang on us."

Juuhachigou? Now there was name that had been forever scarred into brain.

He managed twist around. "Juu-Juuhachigou? I save your life and you shoot an arrow into my shoulder? C'mon on!"

Her face was back to being emotionless, he noticed. "Gosh, I was trying to hit a bird and it flew away and hit you instead." She studied him a bit. "And for Pete's Sake, what the hell were you doing wandering in the woods?"

Krillin reversed the question. "What were you doing there?"

"We live here, or haven't you noticed." Juunanagou smirked. "You really outta pay more attention to your surroundings, Krillin."

Oook . . . so they were forest-dwellers now? He'd more like to say that Juunana was the forest-dweller and Juuhachigou was tagging along. It sounded more fitting.

Hysteria nearly overwhelmed him as he remembered his whole arm was throbbing painfully. Dried and new blood stained his sleeve.

"A-aren't you gonna take the arrow out?" The ex-monk stammered feverishly.

Juuhachigou sat herself on the floor in front of him. "Actually . . . that's a great idea. We were considering calling a doctor or something but why waste money when we can yank it out ourselves?"

He gaped at her in horror. If only she hasn't used the word "yank!"

Juuhachigou was reaching across towards his arm for the arrow, and Krillin found the strength to shy away.

"Ok, please get away from me."

"Hey, it needs to come out."

"Eh, I'll just go come this way. And then I'll find Dr. Briefs and he'll pull it out . . . gently."

Much to his horror, her hand was already clasped around the middle of the arrow.

His screams seemed to egg her on. "No! No! No, seriously, Juuhachigou, please don't pull it! Please don't!"

It was creepy how she seemed to smile at his nearly-in-tears state.

He felt her wrenching it out . . . slowly and not at all painlessly.

More blood was streaming down his arm, staining the wooden floors.

Krillin was shrieking his heart out. "Stop it! Please, please, please, please, please! I'm sorry for anything I've never done to you! Just stop the agony!"

His arm jolted unexpectedly with a shearing pang. It was burning so badly, so badly . . . .

Juuhachigou was staring at him, twirling the blood-stained arrow between her fingers. "Oh, gosh, you can yell. Well . . . I got it out. So we're even. You saved my life and I pulled an arrow from your shoulder."

Krillin wanted to faint there in their house. He didn't even want to see what state his poor arm was anytime soon.

"Now," Juunanagou clasped his hands together. "Who wants a Band-Aid?"

40: Hemophobia, Even When He's Died Twice:

Juuhachigou glanced interestedly over at Krillin, who had a really bad shiver that wasn't just from the frostiness of the theater.

His knees were scrunched tightly against his chest, his eyes squeezing shut at the gory parts. He really did look as if he were going to be sick into his container of overly-chewy popcorn.

She did not want to see the state that his fingernails were probably in.

His eyes were still closed, and Juuhachigou, as thoughtful as she was, did not want him missing any part of the movie.

So she leaned in, whispering, "Oh, oh, look . . . he found her, he found her . . . he's raising his axe . . . Ooooh, he just slammed it down on her head. Gosh, did you see how much brains came out? Ok, gross . . . he's eating them, he's eating them—"

"Juuhachigou," he groaned miserably. Even in the dark, she could see his tinted-green face. "Stop it."

41: Chilliness:

"You told me," she couldn't keep her teeth from chattering, "that it hardly ever gets cold here. You liar."

Krillin scooted closer to her. "Yeah. Hardly. I didn't say never."

She crossed her arms tightly over her chest, hoping to keep some warmth without having to sit so close to him. "Don't you have a heater in here? Like, a fireplace or something? Maybe a furnace?"

He merely shrugged. "No."

She stared at him in disbelief. "Well, why not?"

"Because it's not normally this cold, so we didn't think we'd need one."

"Well you do." And with that, Juuhachigou bitterly reached for the blankets that they were sharing on the couch.

He frowned at her. "Hey, stop hogging the blankets, Juu! You're doing what you do in bed."

But she really didn't give a damn. "You don't sound like you're cold."

He was briskly rubbing his arms. "Just cuz I sound nonchalant about it doesn't mean I'm not cold."

She smirked. "You won't be cold if you had a heater, now would you?"

He way he furrowed his eyebrows in annoyance was somewhat adorable. "Just give me some of the covers back, Juuhachigou."

He made a grab for it, but she snatched it away. "No. If you don't need a heater, then why do you need blankets?"

"That's not fair, Juu. I didn't know it would be this cold this year."

"It is fair," she replied evenly, watching him shiver. "I'm freezing. You apparently don't get freezing cuz you don't need a heater."

She enjoyed witnessing his frustration. It was really, really cute. Gosh, she could never take him seriously!

Krillin just scowled, turning away from her to gaze out of the window. "Fine, dammit. Keep your crummy covers."

For awhile, she just sat there in satisfaction, loving his defeated silence. But he was too quiet. Immobile. Stiff. A nagging voice in the back of her head kept on worrying if he'd frozen to death or something.

So she poked him until he began to stir. "Hey. Are you really cold?" She motioned to the sheets. "You want some?"

He hissed a desperate, "Yessss."

She almost laughed. "Well, too bad. They're mine!"

Krillin glared at her in a way that reminded her being stared down by a puppy. So . . . cute and not at all daunting as he might've thought it was.

"You're a riot, you know that, Juu? A riot."

"And you're blanket-less, cold, and miserable."

His body twitched unexpectedly as he lunged for her and the covers, screaming, "Share, goshdammit! Share!"

Juuhachigou clung desperately to the blanket as she attempted to shove him off, which kind of worked.

He fell out of the couch, but grabbed her down with him, her lying on top of him, their mouths centimeters apart.

The sheet was covering them both again. A good thing.

Krillin was staring at her intently with shiny, onyx eyes, making her feel a bit self-conscious.

And then he spoke: "You know, Juu, it's actually much warmer this way."

43: The Diaries of a Lovesick Hero:

Krillin, whatever the date is:

Well, I guess you could say I'm android-struck. You'll never know how mortified I was when Juuhachigou screamed her freaking head off at me on the Lookout. I'd been thinking: Jeez, Piccolo . . . you didn't have to tell her I rescued her like that! I mean, because, it wasn't totally a rescue. It was more of a "Hey, there's Juuhachigou looking so beautiful in Cell's barf over there . . . I think I might go pick her up and drool over the vulnerable face." And man, for real, she'd thought I was trying to win her heart over? Well . . . that would've been nice, but she kissed me on that highway! It's her fault I fell for her! And there were five even worse parts: (1) Gohan had to scream to everyone that I had a crush on Juuhachigou. (2) After Gohan beat Cell, Yamcha went to scoop Gohan up, Tien got Trunks, and I foolishly said, "And I'll grab Juuhachi!" And everyone just froze and looked at me like I had brain-damage. Man, I was so embarrassed! (3) We'd thought that Juunanagou was Juuhachigou's boyfriend and I tried to make a dumb wish to Shenron, the eternal dragon, to make them human and live happily-ever-after, the end.

(4) Juuhachigou had been freakin' listening to everything we'd said behind a pole and called us "Boneheads!" because Juunana was actually her twin brother. Like we could've known that.

(5) She had screamed at me again and I felt myself blushing again.

But there was one good thing about it all: After Juuhachigou was finished ranting and raving and had started walking away, she stopped, telling me, "But that was very nice of you."

I had been pulling my head out of my hands from being shameful, looking at her with much disbelief, thinking, Leave it to me to fall for an android girl with multiple personalities. "R-really? So you're not . . . mad at me?" I had asked, cautious. I didn't want to set her off again. Android 18 still hadn't turned to face me, but hearing her velvety voice was enough to had made me sway on my feet. Besides, seeing her gorgeous face might've made me pass out like a dope. Juuhachigou brushed her blonde hair behind her ears, responding to my previous question. "No . . . not really." I just had to push my limits. "Do you want to come back with us?" She'd answered instantly. "No. But thanks for the offer." Darn it, I'd mused. Everything she says makes me feel like a total idiot. And my crush had dived headfirst off of the Lookout, leaving the rest of us gaping.

Yamcha's laugh broke the tension. "Wow, she digs you, man!" I grabbed him by his shirt. "Really? How do you know?" Yamcha made to shove me off. "Dude . . . it's so obvious."

Krillin paused for a second, chewing on the tip of his eraser. Hmm . . . what had happened next?

Someone's hot breath was on the back of his neck. Startled, he whirled around, looking into the dark eyes of Gohan, who was leaning over the red couch curiously.

"Whatcha writing about, Krillin?" His face was ssooo innocent.

Krillin shoved his notebook under his arm, away from the half-Saiyan's sight. "It— it's nothing, really."

Gohan was grinning knowingly. "Oh, I'm sure it isn't, Krillin." He leaned further over the sofa. "Aw, c'mon, you can let me see it. We're friends."

"Eh, it's nothing," the ex-monk persuaded. "It's not even that important, I don't even know why I was writing it."

"Then can I see it?"

"No, you can't, sorry buddy."

"Why not?"

"Cuz it's personal!"

Gohan began stretching his arm across, toward the notebook. "Aw, please? Just . . . let . . . me . . . read it! I'll bet it's really interesting, about your life at Orin Temple, or something. I wanna see it!"

Krillin held the journal high above his head, which wasn't all that high to Gohan, where Bulma came by and snatched it from his fingers.

She studied it, ignoring Krillin's pleading cries of, "Give it back!"

"Hmm . . . is this the thing Roshi's said you've been writing in for the past three days since Cell died? What's it about?"

Krillin coughed. "Nothing. It's about nothing, I promise!" Gosh, how he was breaking that promise.

He watched in horror as Bulma began to scan through it, her mouth moving silently, forming words as her eyes darted over the pages. All hope was lost.

Finally, the scientist glanced down at him, her face awe-struck. "I can't believe you, Krillin! You're obsessed with her! Just look at the way you wrote about Gohan!"

A/N: Thanks for reading! Until next chapter! And review!

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