AN: This one's violent. The twins return to their old home, and let's just say that Juunana finally does a little "visiting".

Disclaimer: Dragonball Z and it's characters don't belong to me.

Shades of Black

 

I glanced around at the houses around us, each of them decorated with dimming Christmas lights, some missing bulbs. It reminded me of just how poor this neighborhood was. I guess after living away from it for a year I must've forgotten. I glanced at a reflection of myself in the dark window of a parked car. My face was nearly identical with my sisters, but my black hair and eyebrows distinguished me from her, as well as more masculine features. My hair had grown out to my shoulders and was beginning to grow longer. I'd have to cut it soon.

 

We walked a couple of blocks before I really looked into one of the houses and noticed the Christmas tree, three children sitting beneath it and opening presents. On one table were a plate with cookies and a glass of milk. The parents stood in the doorway with loving, peaceful looks on their faces. I had to search my memory for any expression from either my stepfather or my real father that came even remotely close to that. Not even my mother had ever looked so happy.

 

"Tonight must be Christmas Eve," my twin commented. I glanced over at her, realizing that her arms were bare like mine and she was shaking just as hard as I was but desperately trying to hide it.

 

"Yeah. We should be there soon," I said, swallowing back my fear. It had been a long time since I had last walked down this street. "Maybe we can steal a couple coats or something."

 

She looked like she was going to glare at me again for noticing that she was cold, but then her features softened. I guess she remembered that it was the holidays, or maybe she just figured that she should be nice to me since I was probably going to get myself killed tonight.

 

I stopped, seeing the house in front of me. It was a small one story home like most of the others in the neighborhood. Only this one didn't have Christmas lights or a happy family in the window. The grass had grown tall and was overgrown with weeds, and an old trash can sat at the top of the driveway, leaning against the house.

 

"Home sweet home," I muttered bitterly. My sister seemed just as hesitant as I was to return to the place, but I reminded myself that I had no choice. We had to get food and coats. And I was after something else tonight too.

 

I think my sister must've realized that I wasn't planning on just getting food out of there. She knew me a little too well for that. No, I planned to get Mom too. I was tired of waiting, tired of saying someday, tired of hoping and making empty promises. Even if I was killed tonight, I had to get her out.

 

But that didn't mean that I was going to be careless. After living as a thief for the past year, I had picked up some fighting skills. No dumbass drunk was going to be able to beat me, especially not him. I still remembered how he fought, and I knew his mistakes. He didn't stand a chance.

 

So you could say that this wasn't just a trip to get Mom out of there and away from him. I planned on getting revenge too.

 

My sister turned to me, placing a hand on my arm. I shivered at her cold touch, but didn't pull away. "Listen, I know why you're coming here. You don't have to lie to me. But please be careful. You're all I've got left."

 

"No," I disagreed. "We've still got Mom."



She looked down and instinctively I realized that she was hiding something from me. She had been hiding it for a long time, but I'd been too angry to notice. "What is it?"



She bit her lip. "Mom was dying."

 

"Nani?!"

 

"Last year, before we left I found out about it. She had cancer," she said, tears brimming her eyes again. She blinked them away and continued in a steady, if not cold voice. "She didn't have any money, and because he's a drug dealer, he wouldn't let her go to the hospital. Doesn't want to get involved with officials. Besides, they didn't have the money for all that. I doubt if they even had enough money just for her to go into the doctor's and find out she had cancer."

 

"Why the hell didn't you ever tell me this?" I growled, anger consuming me.

 

"Because… because I was trying to forget it myself," she answered. "And besides, you were always saying that one of these days you'd go back and we'd rescue her, and I just couldn't tell you. I couldn't take away your hope."

 

I felt my hands clench into fists, and I had to look away to keep my seething anger in check. "How long did she have?"

"Six months," she answered, her voice wavering slightly.

 

"Goddammit, how could you let me just keep on believing this?" I yelled, forgetting that the neighborhood was quiet, that it was Christmas Eve, that we were only meters away from the house where our stepfather now lived, no doubt alone.

 

"If I had told you before you wouldn't have listened," she spat. "You would've raced down here, tried to get her out and into a hospital, and have gotten yourself beaten to death in the process. I still remember what he said the night we left. Do you?"



"If you ever show your ****ing faces here again, I'll kill you, and the damned woman too," I quoted, my voice shaking with fury.

 

We stood in silence for a moment, until the sound of a trash can crashing onto the street caught my attention. We looked up, and I felt my heart stop as I saw the silhouette of a large, drunken man swaggering through the street toward us. There were two more drunks with him, and as they stepped into the light of the street lamps above us, I could see who I already knew it was. Jack, my stepfather.

 

He drew closer, his face suddenly distorted with the rage. He squinted, as if trying to recognize who we were, but already realizing even before his eyes could tell him. I moved into a fighting stance, fury raging within me. I glared at the man, my mind suddenly unaware of anything else around me except for his swaggering form against the dim light from above him.

 

My sister placed her hand on my shoulder, trying to calm me so that my anger didn't interfere with my fighting. It wouldn't; no, I waited a long time for the chance to stand up against him, and now I knew I could win. I was strong now, I wasn't some weak child that he could beat on whenever he felt like it.

 

"You… I thought I told you to never come back here..." he slurred staring at us as if he were unsure whether or not we were really there. I balled my hands into fists, clenching my teeth.

 

"Yeah, well we've come back to pay you a little visit," I growled, smirking maliciously. I saw my sister's eyes go wide as she caught the violent glint in my eyes. I was shocked at myself for the bloodthirstiness that had taken over me, but that shock was far away, a tiny little voice locked in the back of my head. I knew only one thing; he would pay tonight, with his own blood.

 

"Don't do anything crazy," she warned. I glared hard at her.

 

"Stay out of this," I snapped. I turned back to where my stepfather seemed frozen staring at us in anger, now tinted with a hint of fear. I smiled at him, and layed my hands out palms up, slowly approaching him. "What's the matter, Dad? Aren't you happy to see us? I've been waiting a long time to see you again."

 

I stepped closer, only a few feet away from him. I could smell the liquour on his heavy breaths. He was shaking, now from fear, his hate slowly dissolving as he backed away from me, stumbling.

 

The smirk disappeared from my face, and I lunged forward, slamming my fist full force into his stomach. He wheezed falling backwards. One of his friends, jumped towards me, and I watched frozen as he rushed towards me too fast to stop. But my sister jumped in, slamming him back to the street with her elbow. He landed with a sickening thud and didn't move.

 

While I was distracted, Jack took his chance and fingering a broken beer bottle, swung it for my face. I ducked, but just barely in time, and the sharpened glass slit my cheek, starting at my temple and running all the way down to my chin. I gaped at the gush of blood as it poured from my face and onto the dark streets. I reached a hand to touch the flap of skin, barely hanging off my face. I felt lightheaded, everything swirling around me. My sister screaming, running forward, Jack's fists connecting with her body, knocking her back down.

 

My breath was knocked out of me as a huge fist caught my stomach, bowling me over. I landed hard on the street, my shoulder hitting the curb painfully. I watched everything through half lidded eyes, seeing my sister jump back up from where she had fallen, and with a sort of savage rage attack him. He hit her hard, and she fell back again. Only this time she didn't get up.

 

Fear and adrenaline rushed through me, and I don't know how but I struggled up to my feet, staggering to remain standing. With strength I didn't know I had, I attacked him in a flurry of punches and kicks, my body moving before my brain had a chance to think. Caught off guard, every punch hit its mark, and he was beaten down to the ground, and somewhere in the distant part of my mind I knew that if I continued, he would die.

 

My sister groaned, bringing a slender hand up to gently touch her bruised face. Renewed anger took a hold of me, and I continued attacking him with a whole new strength. Suddenly the cry of sirens broke the quiet neighborhood. I didn't care, didn't hear them, my hands and feet never stopping their fight against everything, against him, my past, my sister, my mother, my life, myself.

 

I could vaguely feel my sister pulling on my arm, pleading with me through her tears to get me to leave, to run before it was to late. But her urgency was lost on me, I couldn't even see through the blood that drenched my face, sticking to my clothes making me look like something from a horror movie. But I didn't stop.

 

"STOP IT!" her scream suddenly tore through me, and I blinked, turning my gaze away from him to land on her. Tears streaked her face, and she was shaking with pain and fear for us both. She looked down on him. "He's dead."

 

I stopped breathing, breath caught in my throat as I glanced down at him, realizing what I had done. I had never killed anyone before, never known what it was like to realize that he had been living just minutes before and now he was gone, all because of me, because of my hatred. I'd just become what he had always been, a killer, filled with anger and hate and no room in my icy heart for love, not even enough love for my sister to leave. Now we would both be caught, and I'd have made our already twisted lives even worse.

 

"Come on, dammit! We have to get out of here!" she yelled shattering my thoughts. I frowned, the sirens were getting closer. She yanked on my arm again, sending a jolt of pain through my body. I winced, and she pulled again, knowing full well that she was hurting me. She broke out running down the street, and I tore after her with one last look at the broken body splayed out on the wet street, blood staining the snow.