The Sorrow Of Love:
Everything can go so wrong--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter Six-
Confusing Cheese
Eighteen snapped back into reality. 'I really need some new clothes,' She thought, reverting to some of her normal behavior. Her clothes were in fact, a mess. Her formerly long-sleeved shirt was torn up near her elbows and her jeans had large burn marks on them. The body of her shirt was torn a few inches a below a... compromising area. In the corner, there was some blood. Her boots were covered with soot, but otherwise Ok.
'I think I know just the place,' She thought as she headed down a familiar street. She turned up through an alley and exited to a larger avenue. It was mostly a commercial district, with a few warehouses here and there. She walked across the street, disregarding the pedestrian crossing, and a few cars slammed the brakes. She took little, if any, notice. Some of the drivers stayed in their car, too afraid to say anything. The others walked up to her, yelling and shouting. She walked on, still oblivious.
Coincidentally, she happened to walk by an electronics store (Radio Ranch), and a news broadcast was being played. It flashed her face on the screen several times and went to the voice.
"And we have reports that the one who calls him android Seventeen is gone. Android Eighteen however, still remains on the loose. If you happen to see this face (the screen flashed her face again), then contact the proper authorities. Our new weapons alert systems seem to be working, but every soldier except a few ranking officers denied it. Many of them seem to recall a golden haired boy had destroyed him. (He chuckled). Did you catch that Jim? A boy. Many soldiers have reported this though. A sketch artist shows this body, with his hair sticking up, at an almost impossible angle." They flashed Trunks' whole body on a sketchpad with complete color. Apparently with so many people an artist can provide such great detail. "If you see this boy, also call the authorities. They want to question him and his methods. Remember, ladies and gentleman, don't become a hero and vigilante. You'll just get yourself killed. Leave this up to the professionals. This is Jon Johnson reporting. Jim? I hear we have an interesting story about cropcircles..." His voice faded out as the people who were harassing her looked at her fearfully. She was watching with some interest then turned around, and raised her eyebrows. Smirking she said, "boo". They all scattered. Still smirking Eighteen walked down looking for her clothing store.
As Eighteen looked here and there she noticed some fast food places, and fairgrounds on the other side of the street. She always wondered how fast food worked. It was never really explained to her. Most modern conveniences were, but Eighteen never really needed to eat, Gero must've neglected it. She decided that she would have to have some fast food after she got some clothes. And maybe go to the fair. She smiled. No cruel smirk, or destructive laugh, or even a grimace. She smiled.
A few minutes passed as Eighteen walked down that peaceful street, gazing at some familiar stores.
"Papa Pillones Place. I loved that man. Spent too much time giving away free candy to make any money. Big Bubba's barber Building. Nice man. I wonder who runs it now. He never had a wife or any kids... Ah, Kate's Clothing." She said softly to herself. She used to hate the alliteration that plagued the street. Now she just laughed. As she walked inside she heard the familiar tinkle of the bell, and saw the familiar pink and black that was painted all over the store. She noticed that the shelves themselves were also painted this way. Nothing had changed since her last visit to the store. Except for the clothes, of course. They seemed to be in fashion. Or not. She assumed that any clothes would do in times like this. Times she created.
She blushed furiously as she picked out some clothes. She already knew she was going to blow, but she wanted to at least look good before... If people would remember her, they would remember her with style. A new emotion overwhelmed her. It was certainly new, and different, but didn't instill her with excitement. It wasn't the pink of teen crushes, nor was it the blood red of true love. It was the blue-black of guilt. There wouldn't be many people to remember her. And it was her fault. Just like Bulma. She hadn't truly wanted to kill Bulma. She hadn't known that at the time, but she really didn't. Of course, she hadn't wanted to protect her body from the blast she knew was headed towards them, but she did it, automatically. It was like a second instinct. Maybe her emotional repression was slowing down. That would explain Trunks... and the guilt... There was too much to think of lately.
Without looking at the clerk, she picked up a few shirts, and headed towards the jean rack.
"Miss?" The old clerk said. She had black-grey hair and a tanned complexion. It gave the appearance of old leather, especially when she smiled. Her face crinkled as the well-worn smile lines moved to familiar places. She had a bounce in her step and always had a twinkle in her blue eyes. Overall, she had a sunny disposition that would brighten the cloudiest day. No one would've guessed she was suicidal. No one except her husband, of course.
"Excuse me, miss?" She called again. Eighteen turned around suddenly, with a surprised look on her face.
"Ye—Yes?" She stuttered hoping, that she wouldn't be recognized. 'Too late for that anyway' she thought, wryly, clearly remembering Radio Ranch.
"I was wondering if you knew someone. I'm sure you haven't but... I must ask. Do you know of a Joy? Joy Sakinawa? She may be your grandmother. I was hoping if..." She finished off, pleading for there to be recognition.
"I... I... Don't know"
"Surely you must know who you are..."
"I... Please I'm trying. I may very well be."
"Either way, I'm giving you these clothes on the house"
"Oh, no please. I can pay for them"
"Well, I'm running a sale. Next ten seconds, everything is free. There you go. No charity involved"
"Thank you... Kathryn. Yes, I believe your name is Kathryn"
"Well, yes it is, but anybody could deduce from the sign"
"No, I think I knew you. When I was little. You were my... Friend..." Eighteen tried that word out on her tongue. Not that she used her tongue that much, but it was a nice sounding word. Friend. It rolled around in her head. Friend.
"But that would make you... that's not possible. I would like to assume, of course. But that's not right. That would make you Joy. Well then. Hello Joy, where've you been the last 50 years?"
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Trunks threw the radio at the wall. He needed some time to... think. He walked up the stairs in silence, and tried the sister building of Capsule Corps. It was mainly a large laboratory, and it was about half as large. The automatic doors wouldn't open, so he walked right through them, head bent down. He climbed up these stairs, taking care to avoid the large gaps and cracks. He looked outside. It was very bleak. The bird's nest and its eggs were scattered around, broken. A large cement slab lay there for no reason, cracked down the middle. He kept walking upwards when he arrived at a hallway. This time, the doors worked.
All of it looked dismal and in poor repair. One door seemed to stand out to Trunks. It was bright orange, while the others were gunmetal grey. Trunks never remembered a door that was orange, but he hadn't been to the top floor that much anyway. He walked on inside and immediately fell face first into a bowl of Crunchy Bears.
"What tha... Oh god... huh?" He said confused. He looked at what he tripped on. A block of cheese. A wheel to be specific. Trunks lay there, head poised above a bowl of crunchy bears, looking at a very yellow wheel of cheese. Most likely cheddar. Then the cheese moved. Trunks got up and looked behind the cheese. Ah, a bunny was there, twittering nervously.
Trunks figured that Gohan, who was always a proper guinea pig for Bulma, left the bowl there, but the cheese seemed to be there for no apparent reason. Trunks looked at the bunny. It seemed to have a needle in its leg, hanging haphazardly. Trunks tried to calm the nervous rabbit as he slowly pulled out the needle. The rabbit seemed to know what he was doing and stood still. Or as still as a rabbit could get, with it twitching its nose every so often. He finally pulled it out and looked at the label. It seemed to be the latest of D45xf.RH8 or Dx8 for short. It was supposed to increase stamina, but it did nothing except make all the monkeys lose their hair. Like a monkey on chemotherapy. Trunks always thought they looked like aliens. If he knew what they looked like. Except for Piccolo. And the Saiyans. Oh yes, and Freiza. Trunks thought he was thinking too much.
The bunny curled up in his hand and resumed shivering, as if the needle momentarily stopped it. Trunks looked at the cheese. It was quite hard and Trunks wasn't exactly in the mood to eat. Moments like these were rare but they still happened. He looked at the rabbit, its paw was upset and it was positioned awkwardly. He tried to tear of some of his shirt, but evidently the shirt didn't want to tear. He tried to tear slightly harder, but then the whole shirt decided to fall off, leaving Trunks bare-chested with a small piece of fabric in one hand a small furry mammal in the other. He took a crunchy bear and brought it too the bunny's foot. He wrapped the fabric around the bear and the bunny, creating a splint. Trunks smiled at his handiwork. If he could only do that with machines, like Grandpa and Bulma. Of course, he assumed they would have the same ease with the bunny, he was proud nevertheless. While he was grinning like a fool, his acute hearing picked up a growl. What being smaller than a cat would have been bothered by the androids? What being larger than a cat can survive the attacks?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A/N: Ok, that was a pretty stupid cliffie, but it was one nonetheless. So ha! Take that, AGalaxiaGoddess! Oh yes, this happens to be a chapter that happens to be shorter than I expected. In the original draft, it was actually the longest, but I moved some scenes to other chapters and deleted whole paragraphs of writing. Oh yeah, sorry this chapter sucked, it was rushed and forced. But now I have a week for the Sunday one again! And maybe a few days for Wednesday. Ok, a week and Two days for both. That's good! Special Thanks to: A-non-ey Mouse, Victorbot, and AGalaxiaGoddess. Keep reviewing guys! Oh yes, and for you new people, review, and I'll thank you! If you have any queries, just review and I'll tell you, to the best of my abilities. Seeya!
