(A/N- I usually don't like to write a note before the chapter starts because I, as an ardent fan fiction reader, really think it obstructs the flow of the literary piece. But in spite of that, I feel I must because of the overwhelming and unexpected response I got from these two chapters.
The reviews, are as always, greatly appreciated and very helpful. Some of the literary criticisms I got are incredibly beneficial to my abilities and myself. Thank you very much, remember, a good review is always appreciated, but a good criticism speaks volumes of support. After all, what is the art of fan fiction writing, if not to improve on one's own writing capacity by interactive support by the readers? As for simplifying my writing, that in itself is an example of honing writing skills. So I will try my best to oblige the readers.)
Narcissistic Fury
"Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned." –The Bible
Orange Star High School was, in comparison, much larger than any other average public school. It was a three-story structure that covered approximately one kilometer squared for just the main building. The parking lot and the various sporting fields added to its rather large size. Gohan presently was in a state of mild panic, frustrated and confused, because he couldn't quite grasp the somewhat odd numbering system depicting the various classrooms. The halls were pretty much deserted, and he was absolutely positive that he had the right floor.
"Two hundred, two hundred two, two hundred four, twenty-six?" He stared at the offending number incredulously; did these weird city-goers take pride in a confusing numbering system?
"Why in the world would twenty-six be after numbers in the two hundreds?" That was the baffling question at hand, and Gohan was already obscenely late for his first period class.
"Oh…oh…" Finally realization dawned to the gullible mountaineer, his previously bewildered disposition changing to a quite embarrassed one. It wasn't a classroom; it was a storage closet…
In his anxious state of mind, he hadn't bothered to check the next classroom that, much to his pleasure, did continue on to two hundred-six. He quickly located his literature class, room two hundred-ten, and knocked twice on the wooden entrance.
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Videl Satan, Daughter for the Savior and resident volunteer crime fighter, was as usual, in a state of utter boredom. Not only had her literature teacher ranted on and on about microcosms inherent in literature, he had also—about five minutes ago—confiscated her supplementary reading material; her graphic novel…
Erasa, her supposed best friend, was currently frantically trying to cover up a pimple that mysteriously appeared overnight. Videl stifled a laugh, not because of the pimple—laughing at that would be quite unsupportive—but at the various combinations she tried to use to cover it up. She tried the age-old hair-in-the-face look, attempting unsuccessfully to pass it off as some sort of new chic hairstyle. She had also tried the cosmetic approach; that too failed to satisfy her. Presently she was liberally applying some sort of zit cream, rubbing furiously in and around the area of the much-despised pustule.
Over time though, even Erasa's dilemma failed to keep her attention, and she was back to square one. Just when she was going to abandon all hope, and consign herself to actually listen to her instructor, a knock interrupted the lecture. Annoyed at the intrusion, the teacher called out with some resentment, "Who is it?"
"Uh…Son Gohan, I'm a new student sir."
"Son Gohan you say? Hmm…Yes, I seem to remember reading over your files. Well don't just stand out there, come on in lad." Son Gohan cautiously opened the door, and timidly walked up to the teacher's desk. "Let me see your timetable."
"Here it is sir," he replied as he handed the piece of paper to his new teacher. The teacher glanced briefly at the document, then handed it back. His slow calculating gaze bore into the newcomer, seemingly trying to detect any hint of mischief or defiance. The kid was rather timid, standing awkwardly with his hands shoved in his pockets, trying his hardest to avoid the onslaught of curious gazes coming from his new classmates. Some, generally the male populace, cast disapproving looks, immediately branding him a nerd. Others, the female public, nodded with appraisal to each other.
"Hmm, ok Son Gohan. I'm not feeling very evil today so I won't make you do that rather redundant introductory speech which would only manage to embarrass you further," this elicited some snickers form the rear of the room. "You can very well go ahead and choose your own seat for the semester." He waved to the mass of students neatly seated into horizontal rows, which was followed by a whole slew of identical rows parallel to the first, set at a gradual incline. It closely resembled a seating arrangement commonly used in movie theatres and college seminar rooms. Videl eyed their newest addition suspiciously—a longstanding habit—and wearily concluded to herself that he was another pretty face; conceited and overbearing, another bastion of machismo.
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Slightly red, Gohan made his way up the room, scanning the packed space in search of a vacancy. The only one he saw was, much to his disappointment, a seat next to a girl. A weird girl at that too, for she had her face shoved in a small make-up mirror (A/N-is that what it's called?) frantically rubbing some unidentifiable substance on her nose.
Reluctantly he slid into the seat, trying to stay as far away from her as possible without coming off as rude. He didn't want to make an obviously image obsessed female irritated, he had heard all sorts of terrifying rumors about their mood swings. Although, he highly doubted the source, a certain midget who took sadistic pleasure in tormenting his poor soul.
The weird blonde momentarily ceased her cosmetic madness, as she noticed a new presence on her left. She turned to the newcomer a little confused; in her panicked state she was completely oblivious to his arrival. As soon as she caught a glimpse of the new kid, who was forcibly trying to stare straight ahead at the front, she immediately panicked and quickly swiveled her head in the opposite direction.
Noticing the sudden movement, Gohan turned his head slightly. The blonde girl was looking the other way, towards another girl. Immediately Gohan's gaze was diverted to other girl's azure eyes—which at the moment emitted an aura of languor—that were strikingly beautiful. Not only that, but every aspect of her face seemingly screamed pulchritude, and he couldn't help but gape rather rudely. She noticed him gawking, and returned a menacing scowl that would make almost anyone cower in fear.
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He hastily averted his gaze, quickly pretending to be interested with his desk. She scowled at him a bit more, and when satisfied, returned her attention to her ailing friend.
"Erasa, what are you doing?" She was referring to the fact that Erasa was staring right behind her, almost like she didn't want the new kid spotting her face.
"Videl, switch seats with me, please??" Erasa gave her a pleading look, accentuating it by tilting her head to the side and clasping her hands together.
"Why?"
"Come on! Didn't you see how cute the new guy is? And I have a goddamn pimple on my nose!" She kept her voice down into a hoarse whisper, fearing eavesdroppers.
"Erasa, all you think about is guys. Besides, he's not that cute," Videl said rolling her eyes.
"Are you kidding me? He's a hunk! All he needs is some muscle tone though," she responded, her eyes glazed, promptly entering a fantasy world.
"Hmmph…" Videl absolutely despised "guy talk", and didn't think twice about showing her resentment about the topic. "Anyway, you can't even see your zit," trying, ineffectively, to sound sincere. She had an annoying habit of answering a bit nonchalantly, guessing it came from all the fame and attention she had received over her childhood and subsequent adolescence.
"From where? A freaking space station?!" Videl subdued the fit of giggles threatening to bubble up to the surface. All things considered, the offending blackhead was a little too conspicuous, and would have probably been spotted from a space station. Videl had to forcibly stop herself from bursting into another uncontrollable fit of laughter. After all, she needed to show a little compassion for her friend.
"Oh alright. But what will the new boy think? Us changing seats and all. It's not like he's gonna be that naïve." Oh, if only she knew.
"Um…"
Videl shook her head, asking Erasa for an idea was equivalent to asking a monkey to type a coherent message in the English language.
"Ask the teacher if you could go to the bathroom, when you come back, I'll be in your seat." Erasa, as usual, agreed to the arrangement immediately, showing her approval by nodding her head vigorously.
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Gohan tried his hardest to look natural, but he kept stiffening as his sensitive hearing allowed him to—albeit reluctantly—eavesdrop on his neighbors' conversation. His face still retained the reddish hue that burned brightly from his cheeks, and several times it had intensified over the course of the girls' tête-à-tête.
Pimple? Why would she be that worried? Cute? She thinks I'm cute? Oh man, I better keep as far away from her as possible.
He silently observed as the blonde one, Erasa was it, asked to go to the bathroom. In the course of her absence, the raven-haired girl, Videl, had stealthily changed seats without the teacher noticing as he carried on his monotonous discourse, now about underlying concepts in a piece of literature, occasionally scribbling notes on the blackboard.
Gohan tried to look unperturbed by her reallocation, as he pretended to concentrate on his teacher.
Videl glanced at him, and sighed. He knew; it was painfully evident in his confused disposition. Undoubtedly he was feigning ignorance, but how he deduced their rather hasty plan she had no idea. Obviously everyone would have noticed her change seats, apart from the teacher, but she surmised he knew why they had done it. That or he was under one big misconception if he thought she was attempting to hit on him; pain would most likely ensue from that scenario.
"She's just a little self-conscious."
"Huh?" Gohan diverted his attention to Videl, bewilderment reflecting from his features.
She sighed, "Stop pretending. I said she's just a little self-conscious." He looked at her curiously, like he didn't still catch her drift. "That's why we changed seats."
"Oh, that's ok. I don't mind."
Videl frowned a little when Erasa re-entered her room. She tried to cover up the undesired distention by strategically positioning a blonde bang that also, consequently, partially blinded her. She comically made her way up the obliquitous aisle, tripping and stumbling upon lazily discarded book bags. After much embarrassment, she finally made it to their row and took Videl's seat.
She mouthed a grateful "thanks" to her dark-haired friend and sat back in her new desk, a little relieved. Videl decided that if she was there, and bored to death, she might as well get to know more about the new kid.
"So, which school did you transfer from?" She queried, keeping her voice barely audible, not wanting to attract any unwanted attention from their instructor.
"Huh? I didn't transfer from any school." Gohan responded, a little apprehension creeping into his tone. He did not want to be conversing with a girl, much less a dangerous-but-beautiful one.
"What do you mean? Four weeks have passed since school started, you must have transferred from somewhere."
Wow, she's a curious one. "Well, I was home-schooled for most of my life, this is the first time I've ever been to school," he answered, shrugging off the dubious look on her face.
"No way, you mean to say that you're a senior but you never been to school before?" He nodded, still keeping his eyes glued to the front.
"Wow, where do you live, in the forest or something?" She commented sarcastically, and much to her surprise, he nodded slightly.
"Well, not exactly the forest, but pretty close. I live in the 498 mountain area."
"WHAT!?" She then immediately clamped her hand on her mouth, realizing that she had practically shouted it out loud.
"Ms. Videl, is there something you wish to share with us?" The teacher inquired with the usual teacher cliché, and to think, they're in literature class. The irony was not lost on the young crime-fighter.
"No, nothing." She managed to squeak, a little embarrassment joining in with the shock that was still evident in her face. The teacher stared at her for a moment, then decided to be lenient. He continued on with the lesson refraining from admonishing the excited teen.
Class resumed again, and this time Videl decided to pay attention, not wanting to risk further embarrassment. She would have her chance to clear this little problem up at lunch.
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The next four periods passed without event, much to the delight of one Son Gohan. He had that girl, Videl, in all of his classes so far. So much for luck being on his side, and with any luck, his luck won't abandon him completely.
Damn I'm starved, four periods without lunch is too much! The famished teenager complained, searching for a suitable spot on the grassy plains to accommodate his rather large lunch. He didn't even bother to go to the cafeteria, two factors predominantly influencing that decision. One, that he had no money, and two, if he did have money he would have bought the whole cafeteria. Not a good way to make new friends if you eat all their food.
He quickly scanned the eating tables that were fast filling up with hungry teenagers, and spotted one way on the other side partially hidden by the deep shadow cast by an adjacent Oak. Seeing that it was an ideal spot to keep his appetite hidden, he quickly claimed it as his own. He pulled out the tiny capsule, pressed the button on top and dropped it on the table. A loud "poof" was emitted, and when all the smoke cleared a considerable pile of food covered every inch of the bench. Not wanting to torment his stomach any longer, he immediately digged in, wolfing down a lunch equivalent to feed a small army.
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Where is he? He couldn't have disappeared that fast. He was just here! Videl was getting increasingly frustrated, not because she couldn't find him—that was only part of it—but because he had managed to out maneuver her quite easily. It was one thing to be obviously smarter than her, but it was a whole different thing to be faster, a physical attribute, than her. Ego bruised, she scanned the eating area outside, knowing full well that he hadn't entered the cafeteria. It made her a bit guilty for trailing him, but he was so shy that any attempt to engage him in conversation was futile. Justification enough, for the daughter of the champ.
"Hey Videl, what's up?" Videl watched as Erasa approached her, still trying to make her hairstyle hide the pimple.
"Nothing Erasa. Hey, have you seen that kid Gohan around, he managed to put the slip on me."
"Slip on you? My, my, Videl, where you following cute ol' Son Gohan?"
Videl scowled, "Not in the way you'd think. There's something weird about him. Did you know he never went to school? And that he lives nearly 4 hours away!"
"Why all the curiosity. I thought you hated boys," and then mimicking Videl's voice, "Urghhhm boys, boys, boys. Stop talking about them. They're obsessive, and egotistic, and jerks, and assho—"
"Shut up, pimple face." It was rather childish, but it did the trick as Erasa had an indignant scowl plastered on her face.
"That was a cheap sho—"
"Hey Videl!" Erasa was interrupted by Sharpener; self-proclaimed manly man.
"Oh no," Videl held her head, "Aren't you due back at the laboratory to get your screws tightened?"
"He he, feisty as ever babe." Videl nearly bashed him upside the head, and had she not been preoccupied he would have assuredly been intimately acquainted with the back of his skull.
"Sharpener? Why weren't you at Lit class today?" Erasa interjected, causing Sharpener to finally turn around and notice her presence, for he had made no move to acknowledge that she was there.
"Whoa, Erasa. Won't you guide my sleigh tonight?"
Erasa's facial complexion immediately tinged over with red. Steam was faintly discernable escaping her ears. Her face was set in a menacing glare as her hands were balling into fists, pimple forgotten, remark not.
The cocky smirk in Sharpener's face was fast erased, replaced by some apprehension and a little fear. He gulped nervously, silently offering prayer for a painless and speedy death. For all his machismo and bravado, he had no intention of facing a woman disparaged. Erasa took a threatening step forward, slow and deliberate, face—rather unbelievably—darkening into deeper shades of red. Instinctively, Sharpener backed up, hands held up, eyes silently pleading for mercy.
Videl watched, slightly amused, at Sharpener's pusillanimity. Sharpener had gone too far this time. He had attacked Erasa in the place most vulnerable, her looks. Had he known that she had spent the whole day fretting over that damnable furuncle, he probably would not have done what he did. But now, he must pay, and she was going to relish every moment of it.
"YOU MOTHER FU—ING A—HOLE!!" She wasn't one enamored with expletives; rather she refrained from using them as much as possible, but special cases deserve special attention. Sharpener yelped as she swung her purse like a baseball bat, clonking him firmly in the temple. God only knows what women keep in there, the seemingly bottomless chasm of possessions, but Sharpener found out the hard way that whatever there was in there; it was hard…and heavy…"
Slightly dazed, Sharpener clutched his throbbing skull while he fled—tail between legs—whilst an irate Erasa followed, still swinging the purse like a dangerous weapon. She had managed to clonk him over the head a few more times, although their intensity did not rival the first.
Videl laughed a little, relishing the fact that Sharpener finally received his comeuppance, and a dear price to pay it was indeed. On the verge of submitting to defeat, Videl slowly trudged back towards the building. It was then that her attention was directed to the shadowy recesses of a table, and more importantly, who it was occupying it. It was hard to see, extremely hard, but she managed to make out a bit of red and white, Gohan's current ensemble. Smirking to herself, she made her way towards the unsuspecting saiya-jin, this was going to be fun.
(A/N- Weekly, daily, hourly—whatever you prefer—dosage of humorous one-liners.)
The reason grandparents and grandchildren get along so well is that they have a common enemy.
Sam Levenson (1911 - 1980)
