…Okay, this is my fanfic. Before reading this you must understand that I am
not following the stereotyped characters. In other words, any characters
from Sailor Moon I use, well, they are not sailor scouts, rather, ordinary
girls, just as any DBZ characters I use, are not saiya-jin…or what-not.
Gokou is an assassin, though he has great fighting skills in my fanfic, he
cannot shoot ki blasts.
Also…I don't own any of the characters used in this story….yeah…
Enjoy! ^_^
******
"Are you crazy?!" Or maybe, I am… "You can't leave!! We won't allow that!! I won't allow that!!" Dokusha's thunderous voice hid his dread and slight fear. "You know what will happen if you leave! You cannot put your life behind you; it will never leave you…never!" He adequately emphasized the never hoping to convince his agent to forget his decisions. "If you leave, we will come and get you…you know that Son," sweat beads slowly rolled through the creases on his frowning forehead as his beady eyes stared at the agent with contempt.
Silence slowly crept into the room seeming to threaten Dokusha. All the while, this so-called agent stood gravely before his manager, expressionless, with all senses alert. To Dokusha, all aspects of this situation were threatening. Even the stance in which the agent stood, his face, his calm breathing appeared menacing to him—yet he was still in control. Wasn't he?
Silence.
Dokusha's breathing became quicker-panicked-as he could not withstand the torturing silence. He reached for the button to call security and end the agony, but jerked back quickly in pain as a gleam swept past his hand. Gradually, blood began to surface in the precise slit made across his hand. Shocked, yes, but he was more saddened than shocked, for Dokusha had been slapped in the face with the realization that he was no longer the strongest. No longer in control.
The agent held his dagger in the air as if it were a gun (close enough); he had easily turned the situation around so that the advantage was his—simple. The blood trickled off the end of the dagger as his fist tightly gripped the blade's hilt. His two green eyes penetrated through Dokusha like a bullet—he kept staring. Dokusha managed to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat. Those eyes… Somehow Dokusha knew that those eyes would be the last things he saw before his death. His agent continued to stare at him, if one would call it a stare-it could be called a mixture between a glare and a gaze…and yet…neither. A strand of his pristine golden hair slipped from its place and drooped down across his forehead, adding to the agent's attractive flawless facial features.
Son Gokou knew that Dokusha was right. He would never be able to forget this life, nor would he be able to escape his past, but he did know that he could try. "Goodbye…Dokusha…" his voice—intense—stabbed at the blanket of silence in the room. The masculine figure bowed then rose and gazed back. He could read the scorn and hatred Dokusha was trying so hard to conceal, but he could not read the worry and fear. "I'm afraid…this time…I won't be coming back…" The words hung, suspended in the air as Gokou swirled around and strode out of the office.
Dokusha stood silent, appalled, waiting for the words to quit ringing in his head…
I won't be coming back…I won't be coming back… Part of him couldn't help but wonder: Was this the end of his agency?
******
The metal door swung ajar, revealing the massive room swamped with file-cabinets. Gokou stood for a second, glancing around. This place is oddly unkempt; I wonder how our agency even kept up-to-date with everything. He scanned the room for the file-cabinet labeled "S" and wrenched open the drawer with full force almost sending the drawer flying out of the cabinet. I need to control my strength…it could be hazardous. A small grin formed on his face at the thought, but he quickly brushed the thought away and thrust his hand into the drawer. After rummaging through the files for a moment, he finally grabbed hold of the folder he had sought after. Was his hand trembling? No. But now, it was time. At last, Son Gokou will be able to leave the agency-with his file-and start a new life.
But one question haunted Gokou… Who am I now?
******
His thumb knowingly caressed the bandaged wound on his hand while thought after thought plummeted into his mind. Dokusha's face showed the signs of his old age—51—worn and stretched. Gokou had become the best of the best, he sadly smirked, and all thanks to me he is now leaving. Or should I say…left? His grief-stricken eyes seemed to be empty, as if someone could look right into him and then see…nothing.
"I'll get him back…" Dokusha pronounced to particularly nobody. He tried to give his voice fake determination hoping he could fool himself into believing his statement. However, something inside Dokusha told him he might never get Gokou back—and that something terrified him.
******
Name: Son Gokou
Code Name: Kakkarotto
Age: 17
Occupation: Assassin
Training: Trained to assassinate from age 3 to age 15
Missions Completed: Assassination of: Mafia president, Chisujo; President of the U.S., William Clinton (and wife, Hillary Clinton); Communist leader, Kishu; Leader in the Defense Department of the U.S., Sunao Kino (and wife, Usui Kino); and a number of suspected military spy syndicates for U.S. (24 dead)
…The word assassin seemed to stand out more than anything to Son Gokou. From age 3 to age 15… Jesus. What have I become? Sadness draped itself over Gokou, hanging on him like an anchor on a ship. It wasn't just the fact he was an assassin that bothered Gokou...it was also the fact that this list was "out-of-date". Meaning, simply, he was now 18 and he had killed twice as many people listed in the "Missions Completed" field. Yet, this wasn't the unusual thing. The thing that bothered Gokou beyond toleration: He didn't have any feelings about death anymore. Yes, that's correct. Death means nothing. The only reason I mourn is that I have ended these people's lives short. But, no matter how hard I try; I cannot seem to gather even the smallest morsel of guilt. Why? It was all these questions, and all the confusion that brought Gokou to his decision to leave the agency.
He had to get away… from Dokusha, from killing… from himself.
******
..Hope you liked it. The action will come soon….^_^ Belieeeve me…I have plans for this story…;]~…
Also…I don't own any of the characters used in this story….yeah…
Enjoy! ^_^
******
"Are you crazy?!" Or maybe, I am… "You can't leave!! We won't allow that!! I won't allow that!!" Dokusha's thunderous voice hid his dread and slight fear. "You know what will happen if you leave! You cannot put your life behind you; it will never leave you…never!" He adequately emphasized the never hoping to convince his agent to forget his decisions. "If you leave, we will come and get you…you know that Son," sweat beads slowly rolled through the creases on his frowning forehead as his beady eyes stared at the agent with contempt.
Silence slowly crept into the room seeming to threaten Dokusha. All the while, this so-called agent stood gravely before his manager, expressionless, with all senses alert. To Dokusha, all aspects of this situation were threatening. Even the stance in which the agent stood, his face, his calm breathing appeared menacing to him—yet he was still in control. Wasn't he?
Silence.
Dokusha's breathing became quicker-panicked-as he could not withstand the torturing silence. He reached for the button to call security and end the agony, but jerked back quickly in pain as a gleam swept past his hand. Gradually, blood began to surface in the precise slit made across his hand. Shocked, yes, but he was more saddened than shocked, for Dokusha had been slapped in the face with the realization that he was no longer the strongest. No longer in control.
The agent held his dagger in the air as if it were a gun (close enough); he had easily turned the situation around so that the advantage was his—simple. The blood trickled off the end of the dagger as his fist tightly gripped the blade's hilt. His two green eyes penetrated through Dokusha like a bullet—he kept staring. Dokusha managed to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat. Those eyes… Somehow Dokusha knew that those eyes would be the last things he saw before his death. His agent continued to stare at him, if one would call it a stare-it could be called a mixture between a glare and a gaze…and yet…neither. A strand of his pristine golden hair slipped from its place and drooped down across his forehead, adding to the agent's attractive flawless facial features.
Son Gokou knew that Dokusha was right. He would never be able to forget this life, nor would he be able to escape his past, but he did know that he could try. "Goodbye…Dokusha…" his voice—intense—stabbed at the blanket of silence in the room. The masculine figure bowed then rose and gazed back. He could read the scorn and hatred Dokusha was trying so hard to conceal, but he could not read the worry and fear. "I'm afraid…this time…I won't be coming back…" The words hung, suspended in the air as Gokou swirled around and strode out of the office.
Dokusha stood silent, appalled, waiting for the words to quit ringing in his head…
I won't be coming back…I won't be coming back… Part of him couldn't help but wonder: Was this the end of his agency?
******
The metal door swung ajar, revealing the massive room swamped with file-cabinets. Gokou stood for a second, glancing around. This place is oddly unkempt; I wonder how our agency even kept up-to-date with everything. He scanned the room for the file-cabinet labeled "S" and wrenched open the drawer with full force almost sending the drawer flying out of the cabinet. I need to control my strength…it could be hazardous. A small grin formed on his face at the thought, but he quickly brushed the thought away and thrust his hand into the drawer. After rummaging through the files for a moment, he finally grabbed hold of the folder he had sought after. Was his hand trembling? No. But now, it was time. At last, Son Gokou will be able to leave the agency-with his file-and start a new life.
But one question haunted Gokou… Who am I now?
******
His thumb knowingly caressed the bandaged wound on his hand while thought after thought plummeted into his mind. Dokusha's face showed the signs of his old age—51—worn and stretched. Gokou had become the best of the best, he sadly smirked, and all thanks to me he is now leaving. Or should I say…left? His grief-stricken eyes seemed to be empty, as if someone could look right into him and then see…nothing.
"I'll get him back…" Dokusha pronounced to particularly nobody. He tried to give his voice fake determination hoping he could fool himself into believing his statement. However, something inside Dokusha told him he might never get Gokou back—and that something terrified him.
******
Name: Son Gokou
Code Name: Kakkarotto
Age: 17
Occupation: Assassin
Training: Trained to assassinate from age 3 to age 15
Missions Completed: Assassination of: Mafia president, Chisujo; President of the U.S., William Clinton (and wife, Hillary Clinton); Communist leader, Kishu; Leader in the Defense Department of the U.S., Sunao Kino (and wife, Usui Kino); and a number of suspected military spy syndicates for U.S. (24 dead)
…The word assassin seemed to stand out more than anything to Son Gokou. From age 3 to age 15… Jesus. What have I become? Sadness draped itself over Gokou, hanging on him like an anchor on a ship. It wasn't just the fact he was an assassin that bothered Gokou...it was also the fact that this list was "out-of-date". Meaning, simply, he was now 18 and he had killed twice as many people listed in the "Missions Completed" field. Yet, this wasn't the unusual thing. The thing that bothered Gokou beyond toleration: He didn't have any feelings about death anymore. Yes, that's correct. Death means nothing. The only reason I mourn is that I have ended these people's lives short. But, no matter how hard I try; I cannot seem to gather even the smallest morsel of guilt. Why? It was all these questions, and all the confusion that brought Gokou to his decision to leave the agency.
He had to get away… from Dokusha, from killing… from himself.
******
..Hope you liked it. The action will come soon….^_^ Belieeeve me…I have plans for this story…;]~…