You know what, I have a confession to make. I hate this fic. I hate it with a burning passion. I hate it because it is stupid, and stupid, and stupid. And it deleted itself. And then it wouldn't write itself and gave me writer's block. And it just…sucks.
I hate this fic. And I hate Nocturne too. That one needs to die. That one really sucks. Aw damn, I really need to be happier, I'm all done with school…oh well, on to the crappy fic that I hate with an unbearable amount of rage, sarcasm, cynicism, and all that other negative shizzat.
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"Wonder if anything good came today, probably not…" Usagi mused aloud as she flipped open the mailbox's lid and stuck her hand in to retrieve the stack of envelops and magazine's. She gathered the bundle up and turned to cross the street while she shuffled through the pile. "Let see…bill, bill, another bill, junk, junk, bill, junk…bad magazine, letter for Minako, junk, magazine for Minako…"
She was about to give up on finding anything for her when her eyes came across a small gray envelope sticking out of the pile. She halted in mid-step as she read the addresses on the back. 'It's to both of us…' The writing was in black pen, and a very scrawling cursive. Usagi's eyes shifted to the return address. It said simply, Tomoe, and an address for a house in the Juuban District of Tokyo.
Usagi was forced to shift out of her stupor and back into the real world when several angry commuters blew their horns and shouted curses for her to get out of the middle of the road.
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"Hello, is Minako Aino there?" Usagi spoke hesitantly into the phone as she glanced down at the letter once more.
"One moment please,"
As she waited, she began to pace the length of the kitchen, still stealing glances at the piece of gray paper she held in her free hand.
"Hello?" She breathed a sigh of relief at the sound of her friend's voice.
"Hi Minako-chan, it's Usagi, sorry to interrupt, but I just got this letter in the mail from Hotaru-chan-"
"It's for the funeral, right?" Minako asked keenly, cutting Usagi off.
"Yeah, are you going to be able to make it?" Usagi asked hopefully.
"I think, but I'll have to take a direct flight from Singapore to Tokyo, I won't be able to come and get you," Minako said regretfully.
"Are you sure?" Usagi bit her lip. Without Minako she had no ride, and as much as she dreaded returning to Tokyo, she wanted to be there for Hotaru.
"Yeah, I have a press conference the day before, I won't be able to tear myself away until the last minute. Sorry Usagi-chan,"
"It's okay, I'll find a way to get there," Usagi replied, hiding her disappointment. "Well, I'll see you on Sunday,"
"Yeah, bye Usagi-chan,"
"Bye Minako-chan," she placed the phone back in it's cradle, chewing her lip in thought. She could take the bus, she supposed, or even a taxi, if need be, but that wasn't what had her so worried.
She didn't want to go back to Tokyo alone. The idea of facing all of the people she had left behind once more scared her to death. She had been praying that Minako would have been able to go with her, but now she was unsure if she was going to be able to go at all, as she was stuck doing promotional work in Singapore at the moment.
Her last resort would have to be calling one of them to come and get her, but that would be her absolute last option. The last thing she wanted was to have to spend four hours in the car with one of them.
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Usagi fretted over it through the rest of the day and night, and on into the next day while she was at work. The envelope lay at the corner of her desk, and as she typed, she kept stealing glances at it, feeling as though it were staring at her. That is, if envelopes could stare.
If she hadn't been so preoccupied with her typing and the Staring Letter, she might have been able to hear bits and pieces of the conversation that was going on in the next room.
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"Listen, I know you're upset, we all are, but are you absolutely sure about this?" Bulma said, running a hand through her hair. It was in this moment that she no longer seemed to be the young vivacious scientist, she became someone wearier, strained, as though she had been stretched far too thin, and seen too many things.
"Why do you think I'm here?" he said, his frustration suddenly rising up. "You have to believe me, and you have to trust me, Yamucha's dead."
"But-" she protested, still feeling the stabs of pain from loss.
"Okaasan, I came here to help you, and how can I, if you won't believe me? This isn't going to stop anytime soon, not until everyone is wiped out." His eyes suddenly came to life, no longer dead and iced over, but smoldering with blue flames, showing the rage lurking just below the calm surface. "They started with Tomoe, and now they're going to go straight through, killing everyone that ever had ties with this."
"I know," She replied quietly, her voice quavering slightly. "But the others are in now position, it's only you and Gohan," she whispered sadly.
"I'm not letting him get involved, he's too young. His mother would never allow it anyway."
"So you're saying you're going to take them on alone?" she whispered, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly.
"Well what else can I do? I've been fighting them all of my life!" He suddenly cast his eyes about the room, desperate to find a wall to slam his fist against. He held back though, for fear of destroying it.
"Trunks! You have a mother too! And I don't want you facing them alone! We don't know how strong they are yet!" She pleaded. "If only Gokou or Veji-"
"We won't get anywhere by saying 'if only'" He interjected. "And you know that this is the only way."
She sighed, and the strain became even more obvious. Placing a hand to her brow, she looked away from him. "I'm not delusional enough to think that I can stop you,"
He was silent.
"But please, be careful," she said softly. "I like having you around."
He only nodded mutely before leaving the room.
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Gaah, I really do hate this fic…so much that I can't even write a decent chapter. Oh well, at least I got something out. Damn, I need to finish this piece of crap…um, yeah, review or whatever, and remember, just because I hate this fic, doesn't mean I won't abandon it or write a crappy rushed ending, it will be finished, and it will be good, even if it kills me. So on that note, I have to go make a ninja costume…