Thank you to the most recent review telling me that the notification didn't work for this chapter. I am re-uploading in hopes that it goes through.

Two chapters in one day! I love updating!

Hi! So, real quick, I wanted to say a couple of things about this chapter and the next one that will be posted. I typed the original draft for these two chapters over a year ago, back in January of 2016, and they contributed to me deciding that I wanted to make this story. I just didn't feel that they fit in with "The 3 Year Gap", so I put them aside to see what I could do with them! It feels crazy to unveil them after such a long time!

With that, I also wanted to remind, once again, that these next couple of chapters do require a trigger warning. I do not want to spoil the contents, but I want to make it clear that there are a few scenes pertaining to assault. I can't say how "bad" they are, because everyone has a different opinion on assault, everyone has an individual history and different things can trigger different people. Please be aware of that.

The content in this chapter may or may not also be found as "triggering" to individuals who have a history of substance abuse, whether personally or in their family. In no way is the intention of this chapter to hurt anyone or make light of these type of events.

With that all said, I do hope you find this chapter interesting, and perhaps even refreshing. after so many fillers!

Rikuto Kubo stepped out of the dimly lit bar and into the crisp night air. He'd had a few drinks as he sat alone in thought, and he was feeling some of their effects. Yet he'd run out of cash before he'd been able to get completely obliterated. Damn! He thought bitterly, kicking at an empty can that was laying near his foot on the pavement. What a letdown it was to have to face the night relatively sober.

Especially a night like this.

With a spark of his lighter he ignited the cigarette in his mouth and took in a deep breath of smoke, thinking icily of the men he would have to face the next day. The guys from the Gyangu had been warning him for weeks that they were growing impatient with his inability to pay back the debt he owed...

The fact of the matter was that Rikuto had developed a liking for a certain substance during the last year. In the beginning it'd simply been an effortless moment of fun - something that a friend had offered him during a late night, and he'd been delighted with how it affected him. Not only did it work successfully in diluting his thoughts - exaggerating his pleasures and allowing him to forget his regrets, but it'd made his body feel blissfully weightless. It was a sensation he quickly grew to enjoy, and he easily found that he preferred to spend his weekend nights in such a painless state.

To make things even better - at least, that's how he'd felt in the beginning - the substance was easy to score on the streets. All it took was a quick exchange of words and cash, and he had all he needed to enjoy another evening of fun. The problem was, though, that the more time he spent in the company of his new-found joy, the worse he felt when he wasn't using.

It didn't happen for the first couple of weeks, but one morning Rikuto woke up to an unpleasant surprise.

The sickness.

Muscular trembles, stomach cramps, shortness of breath, and nausea... These symptoms were the least of his worries when he fell into the arms of the sickness. A complete panic, it spread over his body as if he were waiting for his limbs to be ripped apart. Such a state was enough to make him dread even waking up in the mornings, and the only cure was to use even more. What was originally just an effortless joy quickly became the only medicine that would soothe his cold sweats, and Rikuto soon found that his substance was no longer limited to just Friday and Saturday nights. His substance had suddenly become a part of his morning routine - just like an obligatory cup of coffee. He needed it each afternoon to ward off withdrawals, and surely in the evening too.

Such a dilemma was enough to drain his paychecks - but what choice did he have? Without the substance his body felt broken, weak, unable to function. How could Rikuto gather the capacity to go about his day if he didn't have a fix? The substance wasn't even about finding exhilaration and pleasure anymore – he sought the drug simply to not feel broken. And it didn't take long for Rikuto's desperation of keeping a steady supply to bring him to unsafe ways of obtaining money...

Borrowing from the Gyangu was easy enough – it didn't take much convincing, and they were more than happy to offer the money to him. But the condition was that they expected twice as much in return. It was strict, and it was unforgiving, but these were the terms that Rikuto agreed to with little hesitation. The idea of once again being able to escape from the bone-chilling shakes and soothe his withdrawals had long ago blinded him from making rational choices. As a matter of fact, he'd been completely convinced that the whole world was about to end at the hands of a large green toad named Cell, anyway. So what difference did it make if he agreed to a contract? His withdrawals would be soothed once again, and he wouldn't have to even worry about fulfilling his end of the bargain...

..

...Unfortunately for Rikuto Kubo, this assumption turned out to be wrong...

He was pretty sure that he'd been the only person to be unpleasantly surprised when he realized his life had been spared... Unlike the rest of the world around him, Rikuto found little relief when he learned that Cell had been defeated. In fact, such news opened the door to a world of horrors that seemed much worse than perishing at the hands of that green oaf he's seen on TV. The prospect of having a long life was suddenly an option to him again. Yet as soon as this thought came, it quickly vanished. Living wasn't so plausible when he had his debt with the Gyangu - a debt he knew he couldn't pay. And they would do a lot more to him than simply put him out of his misery – they'd torture him first. It was a part of their verbal contract. They were going to make sure that he suffered... They would mangle his body, disfigure it as he screamed, and when it was all over they would leave his remains in the street – a warning to anyone else of what would happen if they dared outsmart the Gyangu.

It was hard to come up with the money when he was unemployed. He'd lost his job long ago, his habit robbing him of any motivation to wake up early or sit at a desk for 8 hours. And even if he wanted to work, nobody would hire him in his state. Still, Rikuto had managed to accumulate nearly half of the debt he owed by shoplifting and snatching purses. He was proud of his progress, and he thought that perhaps it could buy him some time to extend his deadline. Yet the Gyangu was dissatisfied when he presented the lump of cash to them - they'd even turned it away. "All or nothing," they threatened. "You have until the 12th to pay us the cash, or you'll compensate in other ways."

..

Now, alone and morose, Rikuto stood in the darkened street. Feeling frustrated and hopeless, he'd just spent the last of his money on sake and cigarettes. He'd been seeking to forget about the doom he would face the next day, and it hadn't worked. He'd run out of money before he had the chance to even become slightly tipsy, and now he was stuck in his sobriety. Stuck. Facing his hard reality, with no way to escape. It was his last night on Earth, and he was going to have to spend it in such a dreadfully sober state!

The street was lit with signs of business left and right, but for the most part it was relatively empty. Sure, there were a few people that passed him by, but it wasn't nearly as crowded as a street could be in the town center. Rikuto began to walk, puffing at his cigarette as he thought coldly of the day that lay ahead. The prospect of torture was dreadful to say the least, but the thought of how empty his pockets were was what really soured his mood. He was going to have to face the night sober. Sober, and his withdrawals would inevitably be starting up at any minute...

Perhaps he could snatch another purse and pay for a train ticket out of town. The thought crossed his mind lazily. But what would he do, then? The Gyangu could still find him. They had ties in every city. Escaping from their watch was like trying to breathe underwater. And traveling wouldn't cure his ceaseless withdrawal symptoms. He couldn't run from himself.

He was doomed either way, though, wasn't he?

And, with that thought, Rikuto decided he had nothing more to hope for. He really was doomed, regardless of what he did! So why not at least try to score enough money to get a fix for his withdrawals? The idea of being able to enjoy just one more injection during his last night on Earth was enough to cheer his mood. That was it - the best option he had at that moment! He was going to mug a few people until he had enough cash to obliterate his mind for his final night.

The man began to scout out businesses. He continued to make his way down the street, finding a good spot where he could easily escape after making a steal. He stopped by a building with a sign that simply read "CAFE" and kicked his cigarette into the concrete. It was easy to step into the shadows when the sun was long gone. The only question was how long he'd have to wait for an unsuspecting victim...

It turned out that he didn't have to wait long at all, and his eyes lit up when he saw her. She was more than an easy target, as her mind was distracted from the moment she stepped outside. A young boy balanced on her hip, the woman was fumbling with her arm in a bag as muttering under her breath. She was absolutely distracted with whatever it was she was trying to get out of her bag, presumably her car keys, and she would never see him coming...

Rikuto was about to make his move, but he stopped himself.

There was something about her that seemed familiar. When she turned slightly and pushed her hair behind her ear Rikuto was able to catch a clear glimpse of her face. Not only was it beautiful, it was familiar. The more he studied her from the shadows, holding his breath to avoid being found, the more sure he felt that he'd seen her face before.

But who was she? Rikuto, feeling completely sober now, began to search his pained brain to remember. Where had he seen her? And when? He studied this girl, his eyes trailing down her back and over her hips. He was inspecting every part of her body that he could make out, a twinge of awe building within as he gazed over her curves. But it was when his eyes locked on the back of her shoulder that his heart began to race. It was the confirmation he'd been searching for.

There, on her shoulder, was a Capsule Corp patch.

Was that... was that the Briefs girl?

'Yes...' He thought, leaning forward in the shadows. This was the Briefs girl! There was no doubt about it That was why she looked familiar! He'd seen her face printed in newspapers from time to time, standing alongside her crazy old father who'd inevitably revealed yet another gadget he'd designed. As Rikuto continued to examine her from his hiding spot, he couldn't help but feel a jolt of electricity run through his body. She was looking older and more developed than she had the last time he'd seen her... But, then again, it had been a few years since her picture was in print. The Briefs family were well known for being a bit antisocial and weird, but they were also known for working with the space center and helping to advance technology that was now being incorporated into the daily lives of citizens far and near. There was no doubt that the family was worth a pretty decent amount of money. In fact, Rikuto could swear that he'd once read that the Briefs were among the most wealthy of families in the world!

They would pay a lot if their daughter happened to be abducted.. And they'd pay twice as much in exchange for their daughter and their grandson's lives...

...Surely the Gyangu would extend his deadline if he could promise them three times the amount that he owed them. Surely, with this new surge of wealth that had suddenly been gifted on him, Rikuto would be able to alleviate his symptoms and find a new life far away from the clutches of the Gyangu. Perhaps he could even travel to the U.S., to disappear and live the rest of his life in solitude! Once again, Rikuto Kubo was feeling the hopes and excitement of the prospect at a new chance of life. And this time, he was going to take advantage of his opportunity. He wouldn't let it get away...

Feeling a new surge of energy as adrenaline began to course through his limbs, Rikuto slowly stepped out from the shadows...

"This damn bag!" Bulma was muttering under her breath. She knew the capsule was in there – she knew it, but the capsule had dropped to the bottom of the bag, and she was struggling to fish it out with only one arm. "I knew I should have just put it in my pocket!" She was about to place Trunks down by her side, when something made her change her mind.

"Hey." A voice said. It was enough to make her jump, and for a quick second she felt embarrassment. She hadn't realized that she wasn't alone when she'd been cursing out loud. But the circumstance was eerie – it was night time, and it wasn't usual for her to be approached in this way, not even during the day. Uneasy, she instinctively clutched her son tighter, feeling her heart starting to race. She slowly turned to see a man standing behind her, and she felt her mouth becoming dry. He was standing close – real close, and he seemed to have come out of nowhere. He took a step ever closer, and she could smell the strong odor that was fuming from his clothes. "Do you know anything about... mechanics?" The man asked, a slight grin twitching at his cheek. "My car won't start, and I need to get home..."

His question was suspicious, but not entirely surprising – he must have known who she was. It wasn't unheard of for a random person to approach her about Capsule Corp, although it was fairly uncommon. Yet there was something about the tone of his voice that worried Bulma. This man looked unkempt – long whiskers billowing from his jawline, his clothes looking tattered and worn. There was a faraway glint in his eyes, and the nauseating scent radiating from his body told her to be wary. This man wasn't completely "all-there". It was obvious there was something wrong – he participated in something illegal, and she didn't want to know what. All she knew was that she was in potential danger.

"You might need to call someone." She replied, taking a step back. "I think there's a phone in that building if you need one. There's plenty of 24-hour mechanics that work in this area."

"No," The man said. It was then that he shot his arm out and placed his hand over her wrist. It'd happened so fast that she hadn't even had time to dodge it, and she stood in horror as his fingers wrapped around her skin, squeezing her wrist threateningly tight. "I don't think that's necessary. Surely you can have a look at it? It's a Capsule Corp vehicle..." His grin widened, as if a joke had just been made. "You do work for Capsule Corp... don't you?"

Trunks could feel his mother's posture stiffen. Her unease was rubbing off on him, and his little heart began to beat fast. That man was standing too close to mommy. He needed to back away.

Rikuto's fingers wrapped even tighter around Bulma's wrist, and she fought back the urge to wince in pain. "Stop it!" She snapped, whipping her hand away.

...Inside the restaurant a busboy looked up. He'd been in the middle of cleaning off a table, the business having closed for the evening. But something had just grabbed his attention. What did he just hear? It sounded like a yell. He looked towards the door, expecting to see somebody walk inside. Yet nobody did. The busboy turned, noting the television that was mounted on the wall beside him. A soap opera was airing. The couple on the screen were in the middle of a heated fight. It seemed that the woman had caught the man in bed with another woman... Perhaps it had just been the show? It must have just been that show... The couple on the screen were screaming pretty loud... The busboy shrugged and turned back to his table, rubbing at it vigorously. The sooner he finished his tasks, the sooner he could go home!

...Outside Bulma was trying to shove the man away as he gripped her arm with one hand, her hair with the other, and yanked her into his direction. He was working to pull her into the shadows, away from where anybody could easily witness their struggle.

"BAH!" Trunks yelled, trying to warn the man away. His little body was growing hot as his anger rose. He clutched at his mother's shirt, holding her tight as she fought. Bulma was having a hard time, trying to ward the man off with one arm as she clutched her son with the other. There had been so many times - so many times - that she'd thrown Master Roshi around for touching her inappropriately. Yet this was different - this man was somehow incredibly strong, and it was hard to properly defend herself when she was also trying to protect her son from being hurt in the process.

Rikuto had grabbed her wrist again, his fingernails digging into her skin. "I told you to help me," his voice scratched. His breath was sour and made Bulma gag – a mixture of alcohol, cigarettes, rotting teeth, and something else she couldn't even identify.

"I. Said. No!" Bulma croaked, struggling to free her arm from his grip. The man was pulling her towards the end of the street now, much to her horror. She couldn't leave this street. As far as Bulma was concerned, if the stranger managed to pull her into the alley she was as good as done for. With each attempt she made to free herself his fingers clinched her tighter. His other arm gave a tug at her hair, her head being pulled back as her shoulders quivered. It was as if she were struggling to free herself from quick sand, and each time she moved she were sinking even lower into the pit. By now her arm was trembling from the tremendous amount of pain it was in, and she let out another desperate yell in the hopes that somebody would hear.

Trunks let out another howl of his own to try and scare the man away. He wasn't crying, but he was doing all he could think of to try intimidating the man. Trunks was furious. Both of the adults were too preoccupied in their power struggle to notice the boy. Bulma was using all of the strength that she had to resist, and she was also fighting to maintain her balance – to keep her body from falling to the ground from to force of his blows.

Despite her efforts the man was winning – it was a slow process, but he was still overpowering her. Bulma's heart was racing more than ever. She couldn't believe how fast everything seemed to escalate – one moment they were fighting on a street, and the next thing she knew he was successfully dragging her around the corner of the building. Her worst fear having come true, he had managed to get her into a dark alley. If nobody came to intervene on the street, there was no way anyone would come to help her back here! 'Doesn't anybody have ears?!' Bulma thought. 'Why is nobody helping!?'

In her arms Trunks was sliding around. His skin was slick with sweat, but she assumed it had been her own that was dripping on him from her struggle. Little did she know how angry the boy was, or how intensely it was brewing inside of him.

Rikuto continued pulling them down the alley as Bulma struggled. She was breathless and gasping for air, her body in shock from this sudden assault. Finally, instead of focusing on fighting him off, she spoke up instead. "Let go of me!" She breathed, surprised at how soft her own voice sounded. "Wh-What are you planning to do?!"

Her tone was unsuspected enough to take Rikuto by surprise, and he stopped what he was doing briefly. Bulma was relieved to have a break for the moment. She stood, panting to catch her breath. The man's fingers were still laced around her wrist tight enough to hurt, but he pulled his other hand out of her hair, giving her scalp relief from the tugging. He shot her a wry grin, his eyes glazing over with amusement. "I already told you. I need you to fix my car," he said. He spoke as if he hadn't done anything wrong, and she was the one being irrational.

It was then that Bulma came up with her plan. It was the only chance she had for escape, now that she wasn't actively having to resist against being pulled. It was now or never, she had to act before he began his assault once again. Slowly she leaned away from the man, readying herself. "And I told you," she breathed, trying to find something to say to keep him distracted.

It was now or never.

She had to try before he started pulling her again.

Bulma took a deep breath, her grasp on Trunks tightening.

"... And I told you to let go of me!" She screamed. She was still leaning back, and she took the opportunity to fiercely flick her knee up. Up it flew, as hard and fast as she could manage, straight into Rikuto's most sensitive area.

"AUGH!" He spat, not having seen it coming at all. Acting on reflex, he let go of her arm completely and grabbed for his tender genitals.

She'd expected her kick to loosen his grip, but she hadn't thought he would completely let go. Without hesitation, she took the opportunity to hug Trunks as tightly as possible, and she turned away. There was only one way she could go, as she ran as quickly as she could. Rikuto had been standing so that she'd have to go around him to make for the street, and she knew that if she did such a thing it would be too easy for him to intercept her trail and grab her again. So, with only a split second to think, she turned and ran deeper into the alley. She was just hoping that somewhere inside she would find a place to hide, or maybe even come across another way out onto the street.

"Hey!" Rikuto yelled. He was still breathless from the impact of her knee, and his voice came out high-pitched and hoarse. Not only was he in pain, but he was angrier than ever. Who did she think she was to do something like that?!

She was his only chance.

He wasn't going to let her get away.