Disclaimer: Flatter me for a second: believe DBZ and all its awesomeness belong to me. … Man, was that as amazing for you as it was for me? *sigh* Well, back to reality…
*****
*****
The Conceit of a Happy Life
Chapter 10
Cracking
*****
*****
"WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?!?"
Good God, I think my eardrums just shattered.
"This isn't my fault!"
"Not your fault? That man was innocent! Who the hell's fault do you think this is?"
If she wants to put it that way…
"It's your fault!"
"MINE?!?"
Wait, no, now my eardrums have shattered.
"What the hell is wrong with you?! Did you suffer some kind of concussion when you crashed, or were you just born with half a brain?"
"You wanted me to do something, I was going to do something. I was trying to fucking do what you told me, so you'd quit bitching and moaning all the time, but that putrid moronic human jackass piece of shit interfered. If he'd just kept his foul mouth shut, there wouldn't even have been a problem."
But, as it stands, there is a problem. According to everyone else, it's a pretty big problem, too. Apparently, these humans view demolishing an entire 7-Eleven as a suspect act punishable by law and armed forces. And I suppose I can't blame them for that since I did a damn good job razing that miserable fucking shop to the ground.
"I don't care if he was a jackass or not! You can't go around destroying stuff and hurting people, Chi—" She nearly says my name but stops—maybe because of the uniformed Earth creatures watching us from the other side of the room. "Violence like that is not okay here. It is never okay here!"
"I didn't hurt them!" I growl in my defense, jabbing my finger at the others in the room.
Bulma counters by putting an authoritative index finger in my face, which she'd better withdraw quick because I am pissed enough to bite, shred, and all-around maul anything that comes near me right now.
"And I'm thrilled you didn't hurt them, but, you—you…" Her pointer finger flags, and she chokes on the words. "To that poor man?"
"'Poor man?' Don't sympathize with that yellow-toothed mongrel. I saw the sign in the window said 'Help Wanted' the last time I was there, and I thought getting a job would shut you up. But that bastard refused to hire me!" I growl.
"That doesn't make you the saint you wrongly think yourself to be in this," Bulma snaps. "He was the store manager, and as such he had the right to hire or not hire whomever he wanted. It was not your decision. Oh, Kami, that poor man—"
"Stop calling him 'poor man!' That piece of shit tried to prostitute me!" I shout, so furious I'm shaking. That wretched wart of a being... I don't care what Bulma says about it now—I was pissed off to start with, and that human bastard said the wrong thing at the wrong time. Nothing justifies what he did. Telling me he wouldn't take me on as a cashier, but he'd be more than happy to take me on as a whore? Stress, frustration and rage were roiling inside me, and the hateful glint in his eye and the depraved smirk on his face were the breaking point—I exploded. I was on him in a flash, slamming my knuckles into his face and body again and again and again. My body on fire, my brain numb. No thoughts. Just violence.
And it made me feel alive. That damned murderous Saiyan bloodlust broke through, and I reveled in the feel of my fists pulverizing his flesh. Hands tried to tear me from him, but I batted them away and threw ki attacks until they scattered and fled. I didn't hear and acknowledge the humans' screaming at this time so much as I worshiped to it through the sacrosanct practice of violence, thrashing that jackass to the resounding chorus of their terror. And for a few glorious seconds, it was beautiful. Mindlessly beautiful.
But the sirens broke through all too soon, and then the humans' horror reached my consciousness. Suddenly weak human bullets were zooming past me and the idiot know-nothing within my grasp. Metallic pellets grazed my shoulders and torso, inconsequential to me, but one caught the human in the side of the head. He was dead in an instant, and that was when I knew I'd fucked up. It was time to go.
The store did not stand very long after that. Emerging from the fit of aggression into a scene of mayhem and confusion, I fought to think clearly, but the crisis was immediate. I merely reacted, shooting out flares of ki haphazardly as I tried to get out. But in my destructive escape I got caught when the wall caved in and a beam slammed into me and pinned me to the ground as the rest of the structure collapsed. When I came to after that, the humans in uniform were digging me out, yelling at me, asking me questions, clenching my fists together behind my back with their metal shackles.
They brought me here—to their headquarters as far as I can tell—and continued to aggravate me with more questions about my identity, motives, contacts. When I gave them no response, they began asking about the apparently custom-made Capsule Corp jacket I was wearing. What were my connections with Capsule Corp? Was this a Capsule Corp-related act of terror? I didn't answer these questions either, but they sent for Bulma anyway, and she came immediately. Which more or less answered their question about whether or not I have a connection with the corporation.
And because she's absolutely relentless when she's pissed, they allowed her to see me; and because I start talking when she shows up, they've allowed her to stay.
I probably should have kept my mouth shut.
"A man died because of you," Bulma whispers. She's looking at me with pleading eyes, but hell if I know what she wants.
"I'm not the one who shot him," I say evenly.
Bulma shakes her head. "No, that's not the point. The point is that if you had controlled yourself—"
She doesn't make it very far into that sentence before I interrupt with an infuriated roar. "Are you trying to be my god damn moral compass or something?" I bellow. "Stop acting so high and mighty! You weren't there! You don't know anything!"
Bulma remains calm through my tirade, but her eyebrow is twitching so strongly it may rocket right off her forehead. "No, I wasn't there, and I don't know all the details. But I've gathered enough of what happened from what the police have told me and by your attitude and behavior right now. If you hadn't let your temper get the better of you, the situation wouldn't have escalated as it did, and that man wouldn't have been killed in the crossfire. This is your fault. Now quit arguing and own up to it."
My lip curls dangerously.
"Get. Me. Out of here," I hiss.
"No."
I snarl threateningly, wrenching against the chair to which the humans have bound my hands. The flimsy metal of the chair's back bends easily, becoming supple under my strength. I could snap it in two right now if I wanted.
"No," Bulma repeats, unfazed and arms crossed. "This is more complicated that you realize. You've dragged my family and my company into this, and now I have to fix it. And to do that, you are going to listen to me and do as I say."
"Like hell," I spit.
Her anger until this point has had her pacing around the room like some predatory cat, but now her heels clack across the room as she marches back over to me, my eyes following her with vicious avidity. The distraction of Trunks and Goten's presence, for all the good it did, only served as a temporary solution to the ongoing friction between the human female and me. My spinelessness and obedience these past weeks, I don't know why I stooped to it, why I resigned myself to fucking pacifism. Full-on confrontation is the only way I have ever known to reach a resolution, and I'm all too happy it's come to this. My steel glare bores into her eyes as I prepare for her to strike me across the face for being insolent and unruly, for making her life worse off. And when she's had the satisfaction of finally slapping me—then it will be my turn.
…but she doesn't touch me.
Instead, she kneels down, gripping the chair's armrests as if to hold me in place, and firmly meets my glare. Her eyes seem bluer than usual with her emotional intensity.
"I understand what you're going through," she says softly, and I wrench against her and her handful of words. She holds on tightly, wincing as her knees strike the floor and chair legs, and manages to remain upright. "You can believe me or not, but I do. I understand," she repeats. "I've dealt with it before, and I can help you."
My anger is cut by a trace of confusion, and I momentarily stop resisting. Her eyes, though tearing slightly from her physical pain, still do not waver. I don't think she's lying, but what does she mean?
"You feel hurt, and you feel lost. But don't show it because you think you have to be so strong all the time, and you won't let anyone in—you don't know how to let them in—and that leaves you feeling very alone."
Where the hell is all this crap spewing from?
"I'm sorry for your all your hardships and your suffering, past and present, but you have to try to move on. I'll help you. We'll all help you."
She has no idea. She's just making some big dramatic speech because she likes to hear herself talk…
"Life is hard, Chiru," she whispers, low enough so the watching humans—surely just as nauseated as I am by all this—can't hear. "Don't make it harder than it needs to be."
That's it, no more. I look away from her, blinking furiously and tasting salt. I'm done.
*****
*****
"That was my favorite 7-Eleven," Vegeta growls when Bulma and I finally enter the lobby after hours of negotiating a deal with the armed human force.
Feeling more than done with words for the day, I don't bother to acknowledge him. I need distance from everyone and everything right now, and it's becoming increasingly clear that I'm not going to get that as long as I'm on this god damn planet.
"And you. Took you a while," he sneers to his wife.
Bulma walks past him, managing to hide her slight limp so he won't notice. As we exit the building he gruffly inquires what the situation is with the uniformed humans.
"We worked out a deal," Bulma replies tersely.
Vegeta snorts derisively at this. "What a spineless enforcement to capitulate so easily to a single woman's will."
That's the most affectionate thing I've ever heard him say. I may ralph.
"Well, what did you expect?" Bulma says with a flip of her short hair. "It wasn't easy, of course, but I got through to them in the end."
"You paid them off?" he smirks.
"No," Bulma counters haughtily. "Not in so many words, anyway. I simply bought us some time. They're still pissed and want to detain her—if not outright execute her for being such a danger—but we managed to come to an understanding."
"And what understanding is that?" Vegeta asks as Bulma roots through her purse for a car capsule.
"The understanding that they wait forty-eight hours before pressing charges," she replies, locating the shell and tossing it to the ground some feet away.
"Forty-eight hours?" Vegeta repeats, becoming noticeably irritated by all the questions his wife is forcing him to ask with her direct yet bare-minimum answers.
"Yes," she confirms as she opens the car door and slides into the driver's seat. "That's how long you two have to work with."
"Who two?" Vegeta asks.
"You and her," Bulma pronounces, pointing to each of us in turn for added emphasis.
"And just what is it you think I'm going to do, woman?" Vegeta snarls, bristling as he realizes the female already has a plan in mind for him.
"Find the Dragon Balls, so we can wish this problem never happened," Bulma says impatiently. "Now get in the car. We don't have much time."
"I am not getting in that car!" her husband yells defiantly. "Ordering the Prince of All Saiyans around like some sort of servant at your beck and call—who do you think you are, woman?"
"Your wife," she snaps. "Now get in the car."
The Saiyan lets loose a roar of vexation before throwing me a scathing look—like I have any clue what's going on, much less care at all at this point—and then climbs into the car, slamming his door shut so hard the entire vehicle shakes from the force.
"Vegeta, if you break another car with one of your tantrums, I swear to Dende I'll murder you in your sleep and pitch your carcass to the wolves," she growls, starting the engine.
"Who died and made you Chichi," he grumbles under his breath, and Bulma's stern gaze gives way slightly as the corners of her lips curl upward in a half-amused grin in spite of herself and the hellish situation at hand.
And against my better judgment and exacerbated hatred of the woman, I can't help but to feel some admiration.
*****
*****
To Be Continued…
*****
*****
A/N:
Yes! Here is some plot developing! A mini-adventure of sorts that will feed in to something larger later! Huzzah! Oh, and Chiru will learn the value of life or something. Gotta have a moral in there somewhere, I guess. ; )
I updated a day early (Thursday instead of Friday) because I started my summer job on Tuesday, but had today off because the woman I am assisting is out of town, but I have work tomorrow, so since I have free time now…yeah. So blah blah blah, real life stuff has caused me to rearrange my update schedule for this week, so here's a shiny new chapter for you guys a full day early. I know you were just on the edge of your seat for it, right? Yeah, sure. Lol I've been on the edge of my seat, though, waiting a proper amount of time and letting tension and suspense and all that build (hopefully) before delivering the next hair-raising chapter. Well, maybe it's not really hair-raising, but whatever. I'm just trying to entertain myself and anyone kind enough to take the time to read my work. So muchas gracias for reading, and pretty please leave a review! Feedback is ever welcome. : )
Best,
Niach
P.S.
Also, I added this to the end of chapter nine, but I'll repeat it again just in case those who read Ch. 9 before the edit missed it--
EDIT:
Apparently FFnet is not cool with letting me post links in the chapter, so, uh...please try finding shadowlover19 and Amaniachwen at deviantART, or google us or whatever. The title of SL19's picture is "Chiru," and the titles of the two I tried to post are "Cutey Patooty Chiru" and "Ravenous Chiru." I'm sorry for the inconvenience. If anyone has advice on how to fix this problem, please let me know. In layman's terms. Like, so-easy-a-monkey-could-do-it terms. Because figuring out computer stuff is not my strong suit, and I don't know the extent of FFnet's rules. ( ^.^'')
*****
*****
Reader Responses:
First of all, though, I'm really sorry I didn't respond to the very kind reviews left for chapter 8! I was in such a hurry to post chapter 9 that I forgot to take the time to do them. But I'm still making a point to reply to you, for you guys are awesome enough to leave reviews, and it really means a lot to me that you do. : )
aspideringossamerwebs: So much for things being "normal" at the Vegeta household. Damn plot, interfering with peaceful ease and fun. Kind of like a boring, time-consuming summer job that cuts in on awesome fun time. … I've just made myself disgruntled again. ( - . - ) Grar. Lol
SL19: This chapter probably wasn't what you were expecting, but I hope you enjoyed it anyway. The next chapter is going to be…fun. At least, it was fun for me while writing it, and it's a fun chapter for Vegeta, but for Chiru…not so much maybe. *snurk*
Chaotic Symphony: Thank you so much! I'm so happy you found my fanfic and are sticking with it! At least I'm assuming you're sticking with it if you check out this chapter and read this review response. Lol I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well, and come back next week for chapter 11. : )
melakem: Thank you so much for all your reviews! To respond to your earlier question about Saiyan tails, my understanding/assumption is that a being with Saiyan heritage will be born with a monkey tail. Once that tail is lost, though, it cannot grow back. Gohan is half-Saiyan/half-human, but he had a tail as a child before Piccolo removed it (he just popped it right off at the base—it was hysterical!). Trunks and Bra, I assume, were born with tails as well, but I'm guessing Bulma had them taken off for safety concerns and human aesthetic issues. Vegeta probably did not approve, but then again, perhaps he did out of remorse for his own lost tail (I imagine seeing his children's tails on a regular basis would bring back painful memories). Anyway, Chiru was born with a Saiyan tail, but Frieza amputated it because of the threat it posed (Saiyans can't turn into Oozaru without their tails). So I hope that answers your question! Thanks again for reading and reviewing! ; )