Disclaimer: Don't own it; don't ask.
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Author's Note: Warning - dialogue. Lots and lots of dialogue.
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Oh yeah, and read ZippyDragon*43's 'Romance Idiots with High Ki'
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Notes (I) and the Reluctance of the Prima Donna
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What a way to run a business!
Spare me these unending trials!
Half your cast disappears,
But the crowd still cheers:
Opera!
To hell with Gluck and Handel,
It's a scandal that'll pack 'em in the aisles!
-
-
"What do you mean 'Bulma's back'?"
"She just ran by us in the hall," Eighteen said seriously. "She looked . . . upset," it took her a while to find a word.
"I think she was a little more than upset," Krillin offered. "She looked pretty darn *scared* from what I saw. It looked like she was running from something, and whatever it was, I sure hope I don't see it."
"That's only because you're a weakling," the android spoke with disdain.
"Eagles may soar," Krillin said with false sagacity, "but weasels don't get sucked into jet engines."
"You don't have enough hair to be a weasel," Eighteen countered.
Krillin took a breath signifying he was going to retort to that, but Videl promptly interrupted him. "Would you guys just shut up for five minutes? It's really annoying when you do that."
They frowned at her, slightly miffed.
Chichi took advantage of the quiet. "Where was she headed? Did she leave the stadium?"
"From what I saw, yes," Roshi answered. "And there's something else. These guys found it when the entered the stadium. Jewel, give her the letter." +
The blonde man standing behind Eighteen flung his long hair over his shoulder before reaching his hand into the pocket of his turquoise coloured trousers that he believed complimented the blue in his eyes. Pulling out a primly folded note, he sauntered up and handed it to Chichi with a flirtatious wink.
Her left eye twitched a bit with irritation. "Another one of your team members, Roshi?"
"How did you guess?"
The man took it upon himself to start the introduction. He bowed a little and kissed Chichi's hand. "Beautiful lady, my name is--"
"Jewel. I know," the raven-haired woman snapped her hand back from him curtly. "I picked that up when your master said your name." She stretched out her arm and yanked Goku toward her. "And I'm happily married, thank you." Goku smiled and waved.
Jewel backed up a little, startled at her abruptness. Slightly disappointed, he slunk back in line with the others. Videl stuck out her tongue at him and held out her hand impatiently with a look that said, 'I win. Pay up.' He passed her five dollars, trying to be inconspicuous. The girl gave a satisfied smile and stuffed the money in her pocket. Chichi, now satisfied with Jewel's distance from her, unfolded the note, and her eyes narrowed as she read it.
"Let me see, Chichi," Goku pleaded over her shoulder.
"Don't do that," she shoved his head back, but gently. "It gets on my nerves and makes it hard to read." Her eyes continued to scan. Her mood seemed to sour the further she read, and a small vein started to emerge on the right side of her forehead. Nearly shredding the letter in disgust, she slapped it into Goku's hands and stepped aside to try and calm herself.
"What does it say, Goku?" Krillin asked, curious about Chichi's attitude.
Goku cleared his throat:
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"*Dear Managers:
Perhaps you did not read my previous letter carefully. I informed you that I require a monthly salary of five thousand zeni, which, I may remind you, I have not received in its entirety yet. You may have noticed that Ms Chichi is missing a sum of thirty-seven hundred, sixty-three zeni from her hand bag, but I still require the other twelve-hundred, thirty-seven. Once again, you may leave it on your desk after you leave the stadium for the night. We all know that no one likes a lingering debtor, so let's try to pay promptly.
A simple reminder,
T.G.*"
-
Goku blinked at the paper in curiosity. "Chichi, you didn't tell me we were missing mo--"
"THAT THEIF! THAT DIRTY THIEF! HE HAS THE GALL TO TAKE MONEY OUT OF MY PURSE RIGHT UNDER MY NOSE!! THEN HE HAS THE AUDACITY TO ASK FOR MORE! I SWEAR, IF I EVER GET MY HANDS ON HIM . . ."
The man, Jewel, snickered in the doorway. "It looks like that bothersome Phantom of the Tournament's shown up again."
"Phantom of the Tournament?" Eighteen asked.
"You mean the Tournament Ghost, right?" Chichi queried, taking deep breaths to calm herself from her ranting.
"Some people call him that," Jewel inwardly beamed with all then new attention now directed at him, especially by beautiful women like Chichi and Eighteen. "But he's also known as the Phantom of the Tournament, especially by the detectives who investigated this place about six years ago. You may have read about it in the papers, but that was nothing compared to what it was like being there."
"How do you know all of this stuff?" Krillin quirked a brow dubiously.
Jewel raised his nose with a smug smile. "My father was one of those investigators. Captain, actually."
"Well, what did they find?" Eighteen snapped impatiently.
"I'm getting there, I'm getting there," the blonde man put his hands out in front of him in a gesture that said for the android to contain herself. "The team went to check this stadium out when the police force received complaints about possible Mafia activity here."
"The Kold Mafia?" Chichi asked anxiously.
"Kold Mafia?" Videl questioned.
"Yes. You're too young to really know anything about them," Jewel patted her on the head, slightly insultingly for the little girl, "but there were rumours about them setting up the fights and accepting bribes and other junk like that. But by the time the police had sent the investigation team over to look in on it, a whole bunch of stuff had already gone down."
"Like what?" Goku asked, a quiet concern upon his features.
"Well, for starters, there were two dead bodies lying on the ring." Jewel folded his arms across his chest and smiled, as though he were proud of being able to be the only one capable of relaying this information. "Turns out they were two of the members of Team Frieza. A big fat pink guy named Dodoria and a little purple shrimp named Kui."
"Well, isn't that good? I mean, everyone knows that the Kold Mafia was bad to the last bone," Krillin stated. "An enemy of the enemy is a friend, right?"
"Not necessarily," Roshi pulled himself out of his abnormally quiet mode, only to sink quickly back into it.
"Right," Jewel continued. "When the team was investigating the bodies and pulling them out, they found that they had been killed by a cut across their necks, and it looked like it had been singed around the edges."
"An energy blast," Goku said.
"Yeah. Not only that, but when they were cleaning up the mess, they heard some strange noises around them. The doors suddenly flew open and the lights shut off totally. They were told by a voice that came from all around the room saying that they had to leave if they didn't want to end up like the guys they were trying to take out of there."
"Cowards," Videl snorted.
"And I'm guessing they skedaddled pretty fast," Krillin summed it up with a frown. "This isn't good. Not good at all."
Chichi could no longer take it. "Oh, come *on*! You're telling me you all believe in this ghost crap? You of all people, Krillin, should know where this note came from!"
"Me?!" Krillin's eyes widened in shock at the accusation.
"Of course you! You've been fraternising with enemy this whole time! Don't think I didn't know about you and Eighteen!" she pointed her finger at the android harshly.
Eighteen's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Excuse me?"
"You know exactly what I mean! Don't think I don't know about the little 'relationship' you two have going on right under our noses! Why, I've had half a mind to kick you off the team, Krillin! You know it's against the rules to date opponents. And I expected Eighteen would know better."
"Now you listen here," Eighteen started up in defence of Krillin. "You can't just--"
"WHERE IS SHE?!"
"Yamcha?" Goku looked toward the door. "Yamcha, what are you doing here?"
"Where is she?!" the scarred fighter pressed as he stormed in, forcing all those by the door out of his path.
"Who?" Krillin asked, stepping aside, but holding onto Yamcha's arm to restrain him from attempting to trample Goku and his wife.
"Bulma!" Yamcha shouted as he struggled in the smaller fighter's grip. "Where is Bulma?!"
"Well, how should we know?" Eighteen said drolly.
"I want an answer!" Yamcha screamed furiously, waving a piece of paper in his hand. "At least one of you must have sent me this note!"
Videl scrunched her face up, confused. "What the heck's going on here?"
"What's all this nonsense?" Roshi commented from the right side of the doorway.
"Of course we didn't!" Chichi bustled back.
"Don't look at us!" Goku put up his hands in mock surrender.
"She's not with you then?" Yamcha said, still worked up and slightly untrusting of what his managers had to say.
"No," Chichi said, her frown increasing. "We're in the dark."
"Don't argue with me!" Yamcha shouted, crossing the line between sceptical and accusatory. "Isn't this the letter you wrote?!"
"What letter?" Goku asked, helping Krillin hold the other fighter still.
Chichi took the letter from the distraught fighter's hand, reading aloud.
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"*Do not worry about Ms Briefs. She is perfectly safe. Make no attempt to see her again.*"
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"But if you didn't write it," Yamcha puzzled, now visibly calming down, "who did?"
"Mom?" the pondering silence was cut short as Gohan entered the room with a slightly bewildered look on his face. Piccolo followed behind him, his eyes giving off that hard, determined look he had when he had just seen something he did not like.
"Not now, Gohan," Chichi said. "We're trying to figure out something important."
"Mom, I think this *is* important," he tugged on Chichi's dress to further get her attention. "There was a note in your office for you."
That caught her interest. Gohan held out the letter in his little hand and Chichi snatched it up quickly.
"What does it say?" Goku asked. "Read it."
"*Ms Chichi,*" the wife of Goku complied, her face wearing an unnerved look.
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"*Your son's days of being the star of the tournaments are numbered. Your newest addition, Miss Briefs, will soon be taking his place. It would be extremely unfortunate if you were to disagree, for if you attempt to replace her with Gohan, he may find it difficult to fight again.
Just a warning,
T.G.*"
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Chichi's face was sheet white as she finished.
"Hmm . . ." Roshi frowned in concentration. "What we have here are a series of notes, probably written by the same person . . . and most of them about Bulma."
"Ever since we signed her up, there's been nothing but talk about her . . ." Chichi lamented.
"I know," Krillin sighed. "How are the rest of the fighters like us supposed to keep up a reputation for ourselves if we're outshined by a little girl?"
"She's older than you are," Eighteen added in, "so I wouldn't be calling her little."
"Oh, I don't think she's all that little . . . not little at all . . ." Roshi switched his attitude suddenly, thinking of her bounding down the hallway. "She seemed pretty grown up . . . and bouncy . . ." a slight nosebleed developed.
Jewel chuckled slightly, and both of the fantasizing men were whapped across their heads by an irritated Eighteen.
"Perverts," she said.
"Hey!" Roshi and Jewel complained in unison.
"You could at least let an old man fantasize a *little* before he goes by the wayside . . ." Roshi tried to gain a little sympathy.
"You know as well as we do that you're not dying any time soon," Krillin pointed out.
"Aren't young people supposed to respect their elders?" Roshi retorted.
"With you, there's close to nothing to re-"
"Quiet you idiots!" Piccolo finally spoke to silence the entire room. "Look," he commanded, pointing a finger to the ceiling; all eyes followed.
The slight rufflings of a tiny piece of paper echoed near the ceiling of the arena, the note fluttering downward and leading all nine pairs of eyes down with it. Slowly, it settled to the ground. For a moment, no one moved or said anything.
"LET ME SEE IT!!" nearly all of them shouted in unison.
"Calm down!" the Namek barked, halting them in their tracks. "*I* will read it."
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"*Ladies and Gentlemen,
I have now sent you several notes of the most amiable nature (that I can muster dealing with you imbeciles), detailing how my stadium is to be run. You have not followed my instructions. I shall give you one last chance.
As you already know, Miss Briefs has returned, and I am anxious that her fighting career should progress in the grand opening of this stadium. You will, therefore, have this line-up:
Round one:
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Android Seventeen versus Tien - winner, Tien
Android Eighteen versus Yamcha - winner, Android Eighteen
Android Sixteen versus Gohan - winner, Gohan
Jewel versus Bulma - winner, Bulma
Videl versus Chaozu - winner, Chaozu
Yajerobi versus Krillin - winner, Krillin
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Round two:
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Tien versus Android Eighteen - winner, Android Eighteen
Gohan versus Krillin - winner, Krillin
Bulma versus Chaozu - winner, Bulma
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Round three:
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Android Eighteen versus Krillin - winner, Krillin
Bulma versus Krillin - winner, Bulma
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This way, in the final bout, Miss Briefs would have a guaranteed win. This would, indeed, please the crowd immensely, thereby providing you with more viewers for the next tournament you have, which makes my casting, in a word, ideal. Do not worry about the line-up being random when the numbers are chosen; I'm sure the little psychic Chaozu can fix that. I shall watch the performance from my normal seat in the north tier, which will be kept empty for me. Should these commands be ignored, a disaster beyond your imagination will occur.
I remain, Ladies and Gentlemen, your obedient servant,
T.G.*"
-
There was a pause as Piccolo folded the note.
"Bulma!" Chichi finally shouted. "It's all a ploy to help Bulma!"
"This is insane," Eighteen said.
"I know who sent this," Goku's wife seethed. "Yamcha! Her lover!" her finger jabbed toward him with the accusation.
"What?!" Yamcha shouted back. "No way! I can't believe you'd think that!" He turned to the others in the room. "You can't believe this!"
"Lover?" the others questioned, shocked.
"Chichi, that's impossible!" Goku tried to keep his wife still, gripping her shoulders as she struggled to attack their scarred fighter. "He was right here the whole time! He couldn't have written the letter!"
"Traitor!" Chichi screamed at Yamcha. "You lying traitor!"
"This all has to be some sick joke," Krillin said. "First off, there's no way I can beat Gohan, and second, I'm not going to lose to Bulma again!"
"And like you could ever beat me in a match," Eighteen scoffed.
"Hey, now wait a minute. *That* could actually happen." Krillin huffed.
"Keep dreaming," the android said coolly.
"This guy's crazy," Videl commented. "I can't lose in the first round like that! It doesn't matter who I'm fighting! I'm finals material!"
"Chichi, Chichi, calm down," Goku struggled to pin down both his wife's arms and hold her close. "We're not going to take these orders anyway, no matter who wrote them. The fighters will be picked at random, just like they always are."
"No, we can't do that!" Chichi turned on him. "Why are you just trying to appease me?! You're just trying to make *me* happy! What about Gohan?! What about your son?!"
"Chichi," Goku tried to soothe his squirming wife, "it's just a note. Just a piece of paper . . ."
"'. . . if you attempt to replace her with Gohan, he may find it difficult to fight again,'" Chichi quoted nervously. "Goku, this guy's going to try to hurt our son! Don't you care about that?!"
"Gohan will be fine. He's a strong boy."
"But we don't know exactly what we're up against," Chichi's eyes took on a frightened look. "If Yamcha didn't write these notes, who did? We don't know! This person could be stronger than all of us combined!"
"Or he could be weaker than the smallest of us," Goku added in. "I don't think we should worry about it. If this guy's that strong and he's been around here giving us these notes, we would have sensed him. We haven't felt any unusual energy signals since we got here. Whoever it is, they don't have a power level high enough to even be sensed."
"Or he really *is* a ghost," Jewel commented.
"There's no such thing as a ghost," Videl sneered. "Besides, if it were a ghost, he couldn't touch us, right? He'd pass right through us."
"But if he can send us notes," Chichi worried, "then he can obviously touch and carry things without difficulty, so what's stopping him from harming us?"
"Maybe he can only touch inanimate objects?" Krillin suggested.
"I doubt it," Jewel said.
"Oh for the love of--if this guy were any threat to us," Eighteen finally barked out, "it would have been easy for any one of us to sense him. The very fact that none of us have secures our safety. I say we just continue the tournament as planned."
Yamcha and Piccolo looked dubious. "I'm not sure it's wise to just brush this kind of thing off . . ." the Namek warned.
Yamcha thought back to when he had seen that disturbing image of Bulma passing through the mirror and disappearing from sight. "I agree. I don't think we should take any chances here."
"Look," the little Videl pouted, "it's just some weirdo writing notes to get money and to see some pretty girl bounce around on a tournament ring. It's not something to get so worked up about."
Krillin, standing beside the young Satan, looked at her a little strangely for even suggesting something so adult. "Maybe we should look into this a little more. Do some undercover work or something."
"That's not a bad idea," Master Roshi agreed.
"Yes, but what will we do in the meantime? There are only a few more days until the grand opening," Chichi fretted. "And what if something happens before then? What if this guy tries to come after us, after Gohan?"
"Chichi, we'll take care of it," Goku said soothingly. "Piccolo and I are a pretty good match against almost anyone, and with the rest of the team, I think we're pretty much invincible. No one in their right mind would try to pull something with all these great fighters around."
"But that's just it," Yamcha said. "We don't know if this guy's in his right mind."
"He's not," Jewel said with sarcastic optimism.
"Guys," Goku insisted, "there's nothing to worry about. No one is going to get hurt. This guy seems to be extra cautious, what with keeping out of sight and sensing, and probably wouldn't want to blow his cover just yet. That'll give us more time to find out more about him with the plan Krillin had."
"Wow, Goku," Krillin said, "that was actually really smart deducing there."
"Really?" Goku laughed, putting his hand behind his head. "You think so?"
"Would you guys stay on task here?" Chichi put her hands on her hips. "By ignoring this, we're putting Gohan in danger . . . and everyone else too."
"But Chichi," Krillin stepped forward, "I think Goku's onto something. I don't think this ghost guy wants to chance it just yet."
"Of course he doesn't," Videl scoffed. "He knows we'd kick his butt."
"I second that," Eighteen smirked.
"You know, maybe Goku's right," Yamcha consented.
"It does make sense," Roshi nodded sagely.
"Yeah, maybe so," Jewel smiled. "And it might be nice to shove the Phantom's orders back down his throat."
"Well, It looks like you're outnumbered, Chichi," Goku said after a pause in the agreements. "What do you say we just forget these notes happened, okay?"
"Personally, I think you should ask Gohan's opinion on it first," Piccolo grumbled. "After all, he was the only one directly threatened in any of the letters."
"Gohan, sweetie, what do you think about all of this?" Chichi turned to ask her son.
"Hmm?" Gohan snapped his head up from the book with which he had occupied himself. "About all of what?"
The group sweatdropped.
"Okay, I guess that means he's for us," Goku picked up the conversation again.
"No he isn't," Chichi frowned. "He didn't even know what we were talking about."
"Gohan," Goku smiled in an effort to convince his son to join him, "you always want your fights to be fair, right?"
"Well, yeah," Gohan answered as if it were the simplest thing in the world, and, in a sense, it was.
"That settles it then," Goku said with a slight smugness. "The fights will be chosen fair and square, and the Tournament Ghost can cry about it all he wants; we're not going to change it."
"Okay, Goku," Chichi glared at her husband askance, "you win this time. But that doesn't mean I have to like it. Or give you fifteen-course meals every day."
Goku gulped. "You wouldn't . . ." his eyes widened, frightened.
"Oh wouldn't I?" Chichi grinned evilly. "From now on, I'm cutting your meals to five courses. No buts," she quelled her husband's protests.
"Well that was a big waste of time arguing," Eighteen hmphed.
"At least we agreed on something," Krillin countered.
"Pretty surprising since it took you forever to pick a side," the android looked down at the ex-monk.
"Hey, it pays to be able to see both sides of the argument!"
"Yeah," she crossed her arms, "but it takes forever."
"Do you guys always have to argue?" Videl rolled her eyes. "You practically sound like you're married. Why don't you two just get a room?"
"We do not act like that at all!" Eighteen retorted to the little Satan's impudence. "I told you guys before, you can't just assume that were together just because--" she was swiftly pulled out the door by a rushing Krillin, leaving the sound of a rushed out,
"You heard the girl . . . let's go!"
"Oh, like that wasn't obvious," Videl snorted at the now closed door
"I'd probably be in a rush too," Roshi smiled lecherously, "if I could get my hands on something pretty like that . . ."
Jewel gazed dazedly at the ceiling in agreement while visions of blonde androids danced in his head.
"But Chichi! Come on!" Goku whined. "Aren't you being a little harsh?"
"No buts!" Chichi sternly waggled her finger at him.
Gohan sighed and closed his book at the cacophony around him. He looked up at his mentor but was surprised to see him scowling darkly.
"Fools," Piccolo muttered under his breath and shook his head. "They've declared war on an opponent they can't even begin to comprehend. If these demands are not met, disaster will surely strike." Turning swiftly, he exited out the back with a flutter of his mantle. "They're all fools . . ."
-
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*I was so foolish.*
The room was silent, but for the incessant ticking of the wall clock and the slight buzz of the flickering lights. The assumed silence around her seemed to scream as she rocked herself gently on the edge of her bed, her knees clasped tightly up to her chest. She squeezed her eyes shut, keeping her head on the floor, trying to keep from looking at things that would remind her. The mirror, the white marble-like tiles of her bathroom, the deep, dark, almost black blue of her curtains, the darkness . . .
Bulma's eyes snapped open, her breathing sharp from the sudden fear of the blackness of her closed eyes. She gripped herself tighter, feeling like she would fly apart if she did not. Her eyes darted around the room, but everything seemed to remind her of him, of his madness. They settled for falling to light blue fibres of the floor.
A rumpled red dress greeted her gaze, and she slammed her eyes shut again.
*Red . . . just like the blood on his hands . . .*
Bulma shivered, but was not cold.
". . . might be sick. She didn't seem like herself when she came in."
"I'm sure she's just tired from wherever she's been," Dr. Briefs' voice drifted from the hallway. "She's been gone a while and has probably been through a lot, but I'm sure she'll explain it to us when she's ready."
"I hope you're right, dear," Mrs. Briefs had a little worried trill added to her normally chirrupy voice. "She looked so pale and thin when she came in; I just wonder if she'll be all right. She didn't even perk up when I told her I had washed that red dress she likes so much. You know, her favourite one. I'm concerned."
"Whatever's bothering her," the doctor said in a voice that resonated both sagacity and a sense of uncertainty, "I'm sure she'll tell us in due time. Right now I think she just needs her rest. Maybe you should make something special for dinner."
"Ooh," his wife pulled herself out of her funk slightly, "I think . . . I think I know just what to do."
"Well, don't hurt yourself now, dear."
Mrs. Briefs' voice practically fluttered back to its normal optimism. "I'll start with a soufflé. Bulma loves soufflés. And then maybe I'll add a little . . ."
The voices faded away from her bedroom door and Bulma was once again left alone. She tried her best to purge her thoughts from those incessant images that continued to surface through her mind, but failed. Dark bottomless wells of hatred glared at her through an unveiled, snarling face continuously, pursuing her through an inescapable labyrinth. Wherever she turned for help she only saw her own fear reflected back at her, painful tears distorting her vision. She could hear the roars of venomous ire behind her, closing in on her as her feet could not carry her fast enough away. And, just when she felt there was no escaping this nightmare, that nothing could be more dreadful than the fear of him and his madness, his hatred, his distortion of what she thought she had with him, the light that she hoped for, that might signify an end, an escape, exploded all around her. Her eyes burned and for a moment she could only see red, bloody red, and she almost believed she had died and lay in the blood of those he killed, before it all went black and only the pain told her she was still alive.
Mirrors and marble, royal blue curtains and wretched darkness. The red . . . the red . . .
*I'll never go back.*
-
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+ Hey, remember this guy? Yeah, it's the blonde dude that fought Android Eighteen during the Buu saga at the World Martial Arts Tournament. The one that got kicked in the face.
Author's Note: Phew! That was a lot of talking, wot? Sorry to bore you with it, but it's a necessary part of the story. If you notice, I combined two songs in here, mostly because attempting to put a transition between the two would prove most difficult. Also . . . I'm just about as eager as you are to see the grand opening tournament. Ooh . . . I can't wait to start writing that. But of course, that doesn't mean it'll be showing up immediately. Anyway, enough of my nonsense! Go and tell me what you think!
~ Chunks
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Author's Note: Warning - dialogue. Lots and lots of dialogue.
-
Oh yeah, and read ZippyDragon*43's 'Romance Idiots with High Ki'
-
Notes (I) and the Reluctance of the Prima Donna
-
What a way to run a business!
Spare me these unending trials!
Half your cast disappears,
But the crowd still cheers:
Opera!
To hell with Gluck and Handel,
It's a scandal that'll pack 'em in the aisles!
-
-
"What do you mean 'Bulma's back'?"
"She just ran by us in the hall," Eighteen said seriously. "She looked . . . upset," it took her a while to find a word.
"I think she was a little more than upset," Krillin offered. "She looked pretty darn *scared* from what I saw. It looked like she was running from something, and whatever it was, I sure hope I don't see it."
"That's only because you're a weakling," the android spoke with disdain.
"Eagles may soar," Krillin said with false sagacity, "but weasels don't get sucked into jet engines."
"You don't have enough hair to be a weasel," Eighteen countered.
Krillin took a breath signifying he was going to retort to that, but Videl promptly interrupted him. "Would you guys just shut up for five minutes? It's really annoying when you do that."
They frowned at her, slightly miffed.
Chichi took advantage of the quiet. "Where was she headed? Did she leave the stadium?"
"From what I saw, yes," Roshi answered. "And there's something else. These guys found it when the entered the stadium. Jewel, give her the letter." +
The blonde man standing behind Eighteen flung his long hair over his shoulder before reaching his hand into the pocket of his turquoise coloured trousers that he believed complimented the blue in his eyes. Pulling out a primly folded note, he sauntered up and handed it to Chichi with a flirtatious wink.
Her left eye twitched a bit with irritation. "Another one of your team members, Roshi?"
"How did you guess?"
The man took it upon himself to start the introduction. He bowed a little and kissed Chichi's hand. "Beautiful lady, my name is--"
"Jewel. I know," the raven-haired woman snapped her hand back from him curtly. "I picked that up when your master said your name." She stretched out her arm and yanked Goku toward her. "And I'm happily married, thank you." Goku smiled and waved.
Jewel backed up a little, startled at her abruptness. Slightly disappointed, he slunk back in line with the others. Videl stuck out her tongue at him and held out her hand impatiently with a look that said, 'I win. Pay up.' He passed her five dollars, trying to be inconspicuous. The girl gave a satisfied smile and stuffed the money in her pocket. Chichi, now satisfied with Jewel's distance from her, unfolded the note, and her eyes narrowed as she read it.
"Let me see, Chichi," Goku pleaded over her shoulder.
"Don't do that," she shoved his head back, but gently. "It gets on my nerves and makes it hard to read." Her eyes continued to scan. Her mood seemed to sour the further she read, and a small vein started to emerge on the right side of her forehead. Nearly shredding the letter in disgust, she slapped it into Goku's hands and stepped aside to try and calm herself.
"What does it say, Goku?" Krillin asked, curious about Chichi's attitude.
Goku cleared his throat:
-
"*Dear Managers:
Perhaps you did not read my previous letter carefully. I informed you that I require a monthly salary of five thousand zeni, which, I may remind you, I have not received in its entirety yet. You may have noticed that Ms Chichi is missing a sum of thirty-seven hundred, sixty-three zeni from her hand bag, but I still require the other twelve-hundred, thirty-seven. Once again, you may leave it on your desk after you leave the stadium for the night. We all know that no one likes a lingering debtor, so let's try to pay promptly.
A simple reminder,
T.G.*"
-
Goku blinked at the paper in curiosity. "Chichi, you didn't tell me we were missing mo--"
"THAT THEIF! THAT DIRTY THIEF! HE HAS THE GALL TO TAKE MONEY OUT OF MY PURSE RIGHT UNDER MY NOSE!! THEN HE HAS THE AUDACITY TO ASK FOR MORE! I SWEAR, IF I EVER GET MY HANDS ON HIM . . ."
The man, Jewel, snickered in the doorway. "It looks like that bothersome Phantom of the Tournament's shown up again."
"Phantom of the Tournament?" Eighteen asked.
"You mean the Tournament Ghost, right?" Chichi queried, taking deep breaths to calm herself from her ranting.
"Some people call him that," Jewel inwardly beamed with all then new attention now directed at him, especially by beautiful women like Chichi and Eighteen. "But he's also known as the Phantom of the Tournament, especially by the detectives who investigated this place about six years ago. You may have read about it in the papers, but that was nothing compared to what it was like being there."
"How do you know all of this stuff?" Krillin quirked a brow dubiously.
Jewel raised his nose with a smug smile. "My father was one of those investigators. Captain, actually."
"Well, what did they find?" Eighteen snapped impatiently.
"I'm getting there, I'm getting there," the blonde man put his hands out in front of him in a gesture that said for the android to contain herself. "The team went to check this stadium out when the police force received complaints about possible Mafia activity here."
"The Kold Mafia?" Chichi asked anxiously.
"Kold Mafia?" Videl questioned.
"Yes. You're too young to really know anything about them," Jewel patted her on the head, slightly insultingly for the little girl, "but there were rumours about them setting up the fights and accepting bribes and other junk like that. But by the time the police had sent the investigation team over to look in on it, a whole bunch of stuff had already gone down."
"Like what?" Goku asked, a quiet concern upon his features.
"Well, for starters, there were two dead bodies lying on the ring." Jewel folded his arms across his chest and smiled, as though he were proud of being able to be the only one capable of relaying this information. "Turns out they were two of the members of Team Frieza. A big fat pink guy named Dodoria and a little purple shrimp named Kui."
"Well, isn't that good? I mean, everyone knows that the Kold Mafia was bad to the last bone," Krillin stated. "An enemy of the enemy is a friend, right?"
"Not necessarily," Roshi pulled himself out of his abnormally quiet mode, only to sink quickly back into it.
"Right," Jewel continued. "When the team was investigating the bodies and pulling them out, they found that they had been killed by a cut across their necks, and it looked like it had been singed around the edges."
"An energy blast," Goku said.
"Yeah. Not only that, but when they were cleaning up the mess, they heard some strange noises around them. The doors suddenly flew open and the lights shut off totally. They were told by a voice that came from all around the room saying that they had to leave if they didn't want to end up like the guys they were trying to take out of there."
"Cowards," Videl snorted.
"And I'm guessing they skedaddled pretty fast," Krillin summed it up with a frown. "This isn't good. Not good at all."
Chichi could no longer take it. "Oh, come *on*! You're telling me you all believe in this ghost crap? You of all people, Krillin, should know where this note came from!"
"Me?!" Krillin's eyes widened in shock at the accusation.
"Of course you! You've been fraternising with enemy this whole time! Don't think I didn't know about you and Eighteen!" she pointed her finger at the android harshly.
Eighteen's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Excuse me?"
"You know exactly what I mean! Don't think I don't know about the little 'relationship' you two have going on right under our noses! Why, I've had half a mind to kick you off the team, Krillin! You know it's against the rules to date opponents. And I expected Eighteen would know better."
"Now you listen here," Eighteen started up in defence of Krillin. "You can't just--"
"WHERE IS SHE?!"
"Yamcha?" Goku looked toward the door. "Yamcha, what are you doing here?"
"Where is she?!" the scarred fighter pressed as he stormed in, forcing all those by the door out of his path.
"Who?" Krillin asked, stepping aside, but holding onto Yamcha's arm to restrain him from attempting to trample Goku and his wife.
"Bulma!" Yamcha shouted as he struggled in the smaller fighter's grip. "Where is Bulma?!"
"Well, how should we know?" Eighteen said drolly.
"I want an answer!" Yamcha screamed furiously, waving a piece of paper in his hand. "At least one of you must have sent me this note!"
Videl scrunched her face up, confused. "What the heck's going on here?"
"What's all this nonsense?" Roshi commented from the right side of the doorway.
"Of course we didn't!" Chichi bustled back.
"Don't look at us!" Goku put up his hands in mock surrender.
"She's not with you then?" Yamcha said, still worked up and slightly untrusting of what his managers had to say.
"No," Chichi said, her frown increasing. "We're in the dark."
"Don't argue with me!" Yamcha shouted, crossing the line between sceptical and accusatory. "Isn't this the letter you wrote?!"
"What letter?" Goku asked, helping Krillin hold the other fighter still.
Chichi took the letter from the distraught fighter's hand, reading aloud.
-
"*Do not worry about Ms Briefs. She is perfectly safe. Make no attempt to see her again.*"
-
"But if you didn't write it," Yamcha puzzled, now visibly calming down, "who did?"
"Mom?" the pondering silence was cut short as Gohan entered the room with a slightly bewildered look on his face. Piccolo followed behind him, his eyes giving off that hard, determined look he had when he had just seen something he did not like.
"Not now, Gohan," Chichi said. "We're trying to figure out something important."
"Mom, I think this *is* important," he tugged on Chichi's dress to further get her attention. "There was a note in your office for you."
That caught her interest. Gohan held out the letter in his little hand and Chichi snatched it up quickly.
"What does it say?" Goku asked. "Read it."
"*Ms Chichi,*" the wife of Goku complied, her face wearing an unnerved look.
-
"*Your son's days of being the star of the tournaments are numbered. Your newest addition, Miss Briefs, will soon be taking his place. It would be extremely unfortunate if you were to disagree, for if you attempt to replace her with Gohan, he may find it difficult to fight again.
Just a warning,
T.G.*"
-
Chichi's face was sheet white as she finished.
"Hmm . . ." Roshi frowned in concentration. "What we have here are a series of notes, probably written by the same person . . . and most of them about Bulma."
"Ever since we signed her up, there's been nothing but talk about her . . ." Chichi lamented.
"I know," Krillin sighed. "How are the rest of the fighters like us supposed to keep up a reputation for ourselves if we're outshined by a little girl?"
"She's older than you are," Eighteen added in, "so I wouldn't be calling her little."
"Oh, I don't think she's all that little . . . not little at all . . ." Roshi switched his attitude suddenly, thinking of her bounding down the hallway. "She seemed pretty grown up . . . and bouncy . . ." a slight nosebleed developed.
Jewel chuckled slightly, and both of the fantasizing men were whapped across their heads by an irritated Eighteen.
"Perverts," she said.
"Hey!" Roshi and Jewel complained in unison.
"You could at least let an old man fantasize a *little* before he goes by the wayside . . ." Roshi tried to gain a little sympathy.
"You know as well as we do that you're not dying any time soon," Krillin pointed out.
"Aren't young people supposed to respect their elders?" Roshi retorted.
"With you, there's close to nothing to re-"
"Quiet you idiots!" Piccolo finally spoke to silence the entire room. "Look," he commanded, pointing a finger to the ceiling; all eyes followed.
The slight rufflings of a tiny piece of paper echoed near the ceiling of the arena, the note fluttering downward and leading all nine pairs of eyes down with it. Slowly, it settled to the ground. For a moment, no one moved or said anything.
"LET ME SEE IT!!" nearly all of them shouted in unison.
"Calm down!" the Namek barked, halting them in their tracks. "*I* will read it."
-
"*Ladies and Gentlemen,
I have now sent you several notes of the most amiable nature (that I can muster dealing with you imbeciles), detailing how my stadium is to be run. You have not followed my instructions. I shall give you one last chance.
As you already know, Miss Briefs has returned, and I am anxious that her fighting career should progress in the grand opening of this stadium. You will, therefore, have this line-up:
Round one:
-
Android Seventeen versus Tien - winner, Tien
Android Eighteen versus Yamcha - winner, Android Eighteen
Android Sixteen versus Gohan - winner, Gohan
Jewel versus Bulma - winner, Bulma
Videl versus Chaozu - winner, Chaozu
Yajerobi versus Krillin - winner, Krillin
-
Round two:
-
Tien versus Android Eighteen - winner, Android Eighteen
Gohan versus Krillin - winner, Krillin
Bulma versus Chaozu - winner, Bulma
-
Round three:
-
Android Eighteen versus Krillin - winner, Krillin
Bulma versus Krillin - winner, Bulma
-
This way, in the final bout, Miss Briefs would have a guaranteed win. This would, indeed, please the crowd immensely, thereby providing you with more viewers for the next tournament you have, which makes my casting, in a word, ideal. Do not worry about the line-up being random when the numbers are chosen; I'm sure the little psychic Chaozu can fix that. I shall watch the performance from my normal seat in the north tier, which will be kept empty for me. Should these commands be ignored, a disaster beyond your imagination will occur.
I remain, Ladies and Gentlemen, your obedient servant,
T.G.*"
-
There was a pause as Piccolo folded the note.
"Bulma!" Chichi finally shouted. "It's all a ploy to help Bulma!"
"This is insane," Eighteen said.
"I know who sent this," Goku's wife seethed. "Yamcha! Her lover!" her finger jabbed toward him with the accusation.
"What?!" Yamcha shouted back. "No way! I can't believe you'd think that!" He turned to the others in the room. "You can't believe this!"
"Lover?" the others questioned, shocked.
"Chichi, that's impossible!" Goku tried to keep his wife still, gripping her shoulders as she struggled to attack their scarred fighter. "He was right here the whole time! He couldn't have written the letter!"
"Traitor!" Chichi screamed at Yamcha. "You lying traitor!"
"This all has to be some sick joke," Krillin said. "First off, there's no way I can beat Gohan, and second, I'm not going to lose to Bulma again!"
"And like you could ever beat me in a match," Eighteen scoffed.
"Hey, now wait a minute. *That* could actually happen." Krillin huffed.
"Keep dreaming," the android said coolly.
"This guy's crazy," Videl commented. "I can't lose in the first round like that! It doesn't matter who I'm fighting! I'm finals material!"
"Chichi, Chichi, calm down," Goku struggled to pin down both his wife's arms and hold her close. "We're not going to take these orders anyway, no matter who wrote them. The fighters will be picked at random, just like they always are."
"No, we can't do that!" Chichi turned on him. "Why are you just trying to appease me?! You're just trying to make *me* happy! What about Gohan?! What about your son?!"
"Chichi," Goku tried to soothe his squirming wife, "it's just a note. Just a piece of paper . . ."
"'. . . if you attempt to replace her with Gohan, he may find it difficult to fight again,'" Chichi quoted nervously. "Goku, this guy's going to try to hurt our son! Don't you care about that?!"
"Gohan will be fine. He's a strong boy."
"But we don't know exactly what we're up against," Chichi's eyes took on a frightened look. "If Yamcha didn't write these notes, who did? We don't know! This person could be stronger than all of us combined!"
"Or he could be weaker than the smallest of us," Goku added in. "I don't think we should worry about it. If this guy's that strong and he's been around here giving us these notes, we would have sensed him. We haven't felt any unusual energy signals since we got here. Whoever it is, they don't have a power level high enough to even be sensed."
"Or he really *is* a ghost," Jewel commented.
"There's no such thing as a ghost," Videl sneered. "Besides, if it were a ghost, he couldn't touch us, right? He'd pass right through us."
"But if he can send us notes," Chichi worried, "then he can obviously touch and carry things without difficulty, so what's stopping him from harming us?"
"Maybe he can only touch inanimate objects?" Krillin suggested.
"I doubt it," Jewel said.
"Oh for the love of--if this guy were any threat to us," Eighteen finally barked out, "it would have been easy for any one of us to sense him. The very fact that none of us have secures our safety. I say we just continue the tournament as planned."
Yamcha and Piccolo looked dubious. "I'm not sure it's wise to just brush this kind of thing off . . ." the Namek warned.
Yamcha thought back to when he had seen that disturbing image of Bulma passing through the mirror and disappearing from sight. "I agree. I don't think we should take any chances here."
"Look," the little Videl pouted, "it's just some weirdo writing notes to get money and to see some pretty girl bounce around on a tournament ring. It's not something to get so worked up about."
Krillin, standing beside the young Satan, looked at her a little strangely for even suggesting something so adult. "Maybe we should look into this a little more. Do some undercover work or something."
"That's not a bad idea," Master Roshi agreed.
"Yes, but what will we do in the meantime? There are only a few more days until the grand opening," Chichi fretted. "And what if something happens before then? What if this guy tries to come after us, after Gohan?"
"Chichi, we'll take care of it," Goku said soothingly. "Piccolo and I are a pretty good match against almost anyone, and with the rest of the team, I think we're pretty much invincible. No one in their right mind would try to pull something with all these great fighters around."
"But that's just it," Yamcha said. "We don't know if this guy's in his right mind."
"He's not," Jewel said with sarcastic optimism.
"Guys," Goku insisted, "there's nothing to worry about. No one is going to get hurt. This guy seems to be extra cautious, what with keeping out of sight and sensing, and probably wouldn't want to blow his cover just yet. That'll give us more time to find out more about him with the plan Krillin had."
"Wow, Goku," Krillin said, "that was actually really smart deducing there."
"Really?" Goku laughed, putting his hand behind his head. "You think so?"
"Would you guys stay on task here?" Chichi put her hands on her hips. "By ignoring this, we're putting Gohan in danger . . . and everyone else too."
"But Chichi," Krillin stepped forward, "I think Goku's onto something. I don't think this ghost guy wants to chance it just yet."
"Of course he doesn't," Videl scoffed. "He knows we'd kick his butt."
"I second that," Eighteen smirked.
"You know, maybe Goku's right," Yamcha consented.
"It does make sense," Roshi nodded sagely.
"Yeah, maybe so," Jewel smiled. "And it might be nice to shove the Phantom's orders back down his throat."
"Well, It looks like you're outnumbered, Chichi," Goku said after a pause in the agreements. "What do you say we just forget these notes happened, okay?"
"Personally, I think you should ask Gohan's opinion on it first," Piccolo grumbled. "After all, he was the only one directly threatened in any of the letters."
"Gohan, sweetie, what do you think about all of this?" Chichi turned to ask her son.
"Hmm?" Gohan snapped his head up from the book with which he had occupied himself. "About all of what?"
The group sweatdropped.
"Okay, I guess that means he's for us," Goku picked up the conversation again.
"No he isn't," Chichi frowned. "He didn't even know what we were talking about."
"Gohan," Goku smiled in an effort to convince his son to join him, "you always want your fights to be fair, right?"
"Well, yeah," Gohan answered as if it were the simplest thing in the world, and, in a sense, it was.
"That settles it then," Goku said with a slight smugness. "The fights will be chosen fair and square, and the Tournament Ghost can cry about it all he wants; we're not going to change it."
"Okay, Goku," Chichi glared at her husband askance, "you win this time. But that doesn't mean I have to like it. Or give you fifteen-course meals every day."
Goku gulped. "You wouldn't . . ." his eyes widened, frightened.
"Oh wouldn't I?" Chichi grinned evilly. "From now on, I'm cutting your meals to five courses. No buts," she quelled her husband's protests.
"Well that was a big waste of time arguing," Eighteen hmphed.
"At least we agreed on something," Krillin countered.
"Pretty surprising since it took you forever to pick a side," the android looked down at the ex-monk.
"Hey, it pays to be able to see both sides of the argument!"
"Yeah," she crossed her arms, "but it takes forever."
"Do you guys always have to argue?" Videl rolled her eyes. "You practically sound like you're married. Why don't you two just get a room?"
"We do not act like that at all!" Eighteen retorted to the little Satan's impudence. "I told you guys before, you can't just assume that were together just because--" she was swiftly pulled out the door by a rushing Krillin, leaving the sound of a rushed out,
"You heard the girl . . . let's go!"
"Oh, like that wasn't obvious," Videl snorted at the now closed door
"I'd probably be in a rush too," Roshi smiled lecherously, "if I could get my hands on something pretty like that . . ."
Jewel gazed dazedly at the ceiling in agreement while visions of blonde androids danced in his head.
"But Chichi! Come on!" Goku whined. "Aren't you being a little harsh?"
"No buts!" Chichi sternly waggled her finger at him.
Gohan sighed and closed his book at the cacophony around him. He looked up at his mentor but was surprised to see him scowling darkly.
"Fools," Piccolo muttered under his breath and shook his head. "They've declared war on an opponent they can't even begin to comprehend. If these demands are not met, disaster will surely strike." Turning swiftly, he exited out the back with a flutter of his mantle. "They're all fools . . ."
-
-
*I was so foolish.*
The room was silent, but for the incessant ticking of the wall clock and the slight buzz of the flickering lights. The assumed silence around her seemed to scream as she rocked herself gently on the edge of her bed, her knees clasped tightly up to her chest. She squeezed her eyes shut, keeping her head on the floor, trying to keep from looking at things that would remind her. The mirror, the white marble-like tiles of her bathroom, the deep, dark, almost black blue of her curtains, the darkness . . .
Bulma's eyes snapped open, her breathing sharp from the sudden fear of the blackness of her closed eyes. She gripped herself tighter, feeling like she would fly apart if she did not. Her eyes darted around the room, but everything seemed to remind her of him, of his madness. They settled for falling to light blue fibres of the floor.
A rumpled red dress greeted her gaze, and she slammed her eyes shut again.
*Red . . . just like the blood on his hands . . .*
Bulma shivered, but was not cold.
". . . might be sick. She didn't seem like herself when she came in."
"I'm sure she's just tired from wherever she's been," Dr. Briefs' voice drifted from the hallway. "She's been gone a while and has probably been through a lot, but I'm sure she'll explain it to us when she's ready."
"I hope you're right, dear," Mrs. Briefs had a little worried trill added to her normally chirrupy voice. "She looked so pale and thin when she came in; I just wonder if she'll be all right. She didn't even perk up when I told her I had washed that red dress she likes so much. You know, her favourite one. I'm concerned."
"Whatever's bothering her," the doctor said in a voice that resonated both sagacity and a sense of uncertainty, "I'm sure she'll tell us in due time. Right now I think she just needs her rest. Maybe you should make something special for dinner."
"Ooh," his wife pulled herself out of her funk slightly, "I think . . . I think I know just what to do."
"Well, don't hurt yourself now, dear."
Mrs. Briefs' voice practically fluttered back to its normal optimism. "I'll start with a soufflé. Bulma loves soufflés. And then maybe I'll add a little . . ."
The voices faded away from her bedroom door and Bulma was once again left alone. She tried her best to purge her thoughts from those incessant images that continued to surface through her mind, but failed. Dark bottomless wells of hatred glared at her through an unveiled, snarling face continuously, pursuing her through an inescapable labyrinth. Wherever she turned for help she only saw her own fear reflected back at her, painful tears distorting her vision. She could hear the roars of venomous ire behind her, closing in on her as her feet could not carry her fast enough away. And, just when she felt there was no escaping this nightmare, that nothing could be more dreadful than the fear of him and his madness, his hatred, his distortion of what she thought she had with him, the light that she hoped for, that might signify an end, an escape, exploded all around her. Her eyes burned and for a moment she could only see red, bloody red, and she almost believed she had died and lay in the blood of those he killed, before it all went black and only the pain told her she was still alive.
Mirrors and marble, royal blue curtains and wretched darkness. The red . . . the red . . .
*I'll never go back.*
-
-
+ Hey, remember this guy? Yeah, it's the blonde dude that fought Android Eighteen during the Buu saga at the World Martial Arts Tournament. The one that got kicked in the face.
Author's Note: Phew! That was a lot of talking, wot? Sorry to bore you with it, but it's a necessary part of the story. If you notice, I combined two songs in here, mostly because attempting to put a transition between the two would prove most difficult. Also . . . I'm just about as eager as you are to see the grand opening tournament. Ooh . . . I can't wait to start writing that. But of course, that doesn't mean it'll be showing up immediately. Anyway, enough of my nonsense! Go and tell me what you think!
~ Chunks
