My Secret- 9. The Morning After
Bulma walked into her office, and her knees almost gave away at the sight that met her. On her desk, piled high into the ceiling were letters, reports, documents, and contracts. Just when she thought things couldn't be worse, the phone rang underneath the pile. Ugh, I'm just going to let my secretary get that, she though, and dragged her feet over to the mountain of work, slumping heavily on the leather chair.
Who knew the desk could hold so much stuff? It was almost as if an architect was hired to arrange the papers in a way so that they occupy the entire surface without making anything fall on the ground. There wasn't any room left for her even to put a finger. As soon as she got comfortable, however, she realized with a dread that she had to stand up on her chair to reach the top of the pile. Slipping out of her high heels, Bulma steadied herself on top of the rotating chair. Then, her mind worked just a second too late and, where she tried to grab hold of to keep her balance, papers came toppling off the desk, bringing her along.
On the floor in front of her desk, Bulma winced in pain as she tried to get up. A few more steps to gain her footing, and several more crumpling sounds came from beneath her foot. She looked around her, and wished she hadn't.
The whole floor was covered in at least two inches of white. What made it worse, yet, was what she saw on her desk. There was still a good half of the mound on her desk, untouched. Is it just me, or did the volume increase by themselves? She had no time to dwell on the possibilities, for the muffled ringing just a few seconds ago was now a high-pitched shrill. She decided, now that half the papers were already on the floor, that she might as well dig the phone from under the insane pile and answer it.
Holding onto the edge of the desk, she tried to get up, but it was all in vein. It seemed, the more she tried to lift herself up, the heavier her body became. Finally, giving up on standing, she tried to grasp the edge of the desk in one hand and plunged the other one into the stack. Who cares if the papers got crushed? More than half of them were already covered with my footprints.
Much to her frustration, she just couldn't reach the phone. Yet it was no easy task, keeping grasp of the desk, and she let it go, deciding to rest for a while. As she lay on her back, reality came seeping into her brain.
---
A strip of golden ribbon fell right across Bulma's eyes, blinding her. Still half-a-sleep, Bulma repositioned herself to get into the shadows. From there, she began her painful ordeal to stand on her feet. At every movement, her body cracked in complaint. It took almost three minutes for her to pick herself up and sit on her bedside. Then she finally registered her surrounding. The annoying phone was still ringing on her bedside table. Groaning, she leaned forward and grabbed the phone. Even a task as minor as that caused her muscles to strain and crack.
With half-closed eyes, Bulma struggle to control herself from screaming into the phone. "Hello?"
---
Trunks dejectedly looked out the window, his eyes never leaving the Gravity Room door. He still couldn't understand why he was kicked out. He thought his father would be more than happy to hear him wanting to train at the break of the dawn. At least, that's what his reaction would have been yesterday. With his chin rested upon his overlapping hands and eyes half drooping, Trunks looked like almost sad... almost. Of course! Trunks nodded in understanding, the way he has seen his grandpa do it. Dad must want to be left alone so he can think about last night. Boy, something must have really gone wrong.
Regaining some of his spirits, he picked up the phone and dialed Goten's number. If his father doesn't want him training today, he might as well take advantage of it. His forlorn features were quick to be replaced by a wide smile, a smile that always held some mischievous plans.
---
"Hello?" A sleepy Chichi grumbled into the phone.
"Obasan? This is Trunks. May I-"
"Oh, how are you, Trunks?" Chichi's demeanor changed at once. Goku woke up when he heard the unfamiliar coldness in his wife's voice.
"Uh... I'm doing fine. May I please-"
Again, Chichi interrupted him in that same emotionless tone. "I'm sorry, but Goten and Gohan is grounded today. They aren't leaving the house, and they are certainly forbidden from any outside contact."
"Oh. Well, how long is he grounded for?"
"For quite some time, I suppose. Maybe six months, maybe a year, or it could even go as long as two years."
Yikes! Trunks thought on the other line. And I thought I was having a bad morning. Two years!? "Uh, I guess I'll call back when... when it's over..." He said uncertainly into the phone, and waited until she hangs up before putting down the receiver.
Great, now what am I going to do? First thing's first. I've gotta get me breakfast. With that decided, Trunks raced down the stairs, but screeched to a halt on the last step.
---
Goku stared with his jaw hanging open at Chichi. "Two years?!"
Chichi smiled. "I was just joking, that's all."
He relaxed instantly. "That's good. I can't imagine them sitting around the house for two years without training."
"Hey, if you want to give them an easy punishment just so they can train, they can stay grounded for the rest of their life!" Chichi narrowed her eyes dangerously.
"Of course not. They have to um... go to school and... help you with groceries." Goku laughed nervously.
A smile of relief crossed Chichi's face. And then her mouth suddenly opened, along with her eyes bulging. "OH! I almost forgot! Groceries... I have to go shopping today."
Goku looked at her in horror. "You mean we're out of food?"
"Yes, Goku. We're out of food." Then, to herself, she added, thanks to you. "Now, Goku, I have to go into the village today, which means I'm leaving you in charge of the house and make sure Goten and Gohan STAY in the house. Can you do that?"
"Uh huh. Sure. Whatever. Just make sure you get that rice cake thingie again."
Chichi sighed. A wise decision it will be to not trust him, but she didn't want to bother Bulma. So who else is there? 18? Launch? Neither of the choices sounded appealing. Although 18 was good as a friend, Chichi couldn't bring herself to trust with her children. And Launch... well, she was just out of question. What if she sneezes? She didn't even consider the guys.
"Now remember, Goku," Two hours later, Chichi stood by the door, all dressed up in her usual traditional dress, giving Goku specific instructions before she took off. Why she was even bothering with this, knowing very well that he's not going to listen to a word she says, she had no idea. "Goten and Gohan must NOT leave the house, understood? They can't get the phone, and they can't have friends over. When they wake up, they can have their breakfast. For lunch, I've left a note for Gohan on the kitchen table. The refrigerator and the pantry is off-limit for you, okay?"
Whether any of this information went into Goku's head was a mystery. All he did was nod, and when she stopped talking, he said, "Don't worry, Chichi. You can count on me."
After she closed the door behind her, Chichi sighed hopelessly at the amber sky. Goku, that's exactly what I can't do.
---
Three hours of pure training, Vegeta started his stroll back to the house, in search of breakfast. As he reached the back door, a wave of danger drenched over him completely, stopping him in his tracks. WHAT was that?? He searched around him using his ki, but there was nothing near. It must have been my imagination. Slowly, he pushed aside the thought and the glass door leading to the kitchen at the same time. When he looked up, another sudden wave washed over him at the same time Bulma trotted into the room in her navy business suit.
"Oh, hi Vegeta. Sorry, I'm in a rush. Your breakfast in on the table."
"Where are you going?" Thousand alarms went off in his head, and he ignored them all.
"Coconut Island. I have to pick up some important papers. I should be back by noon." With that, Bulma kissed Vegeta lightly on his cheek.
It was one of those few times when Vegeta was taken off guard. By the time he turned around, she was already out the door he just walked in and running towards her air car, her high heel clicking all the way across the stone pavement. "Watch your back, woman." Vegeta whispered under his breath more to himself than her.
---
From the second to the last step on the stairs, Trunks saw the whole encounter, even the kiss. Now he was confused more than ever. His parents are talking to each other without yelling their head off, and he accepted that as a good sign. For what, he had no idea. Trunks, thinking smartly, waited few minutes before walking into the kitchen yawning.
"'Morning, Dad. Where's Mom?"
"Out."
"Oh. What's for breakfast?"
"This."
Trunks followed his father's finger and saw the table overflowing in- "Pancakes!" His eyes lit up in delight.
Vegeta, looking at his son's joy, couldn't help but smile inside to himself.
The two soon began their father-son food-eating contest.
"Dad, can I take a break from training today?" Trunks said, trying to swallow five pancakes at the same time. So you can think about whatever that's bothering you, he wanted to add, but smartly kept to himself.
Vegeta looked at him once, and then nodded. Apparently, the silent message got across somehow.
"So," Trunks said casually after cramming another seven pancakes in his mouth. "How did it go last night?"
"Don't talk while eating. You don't want to end up like Kakarot and his sons." No doubt he saw thought this one as well. Trunks was hoping against hope that this time, just this time, he'll be able to get straight answers. No such luck.
And those were the last words Trunks got before Vegeta went back to training, while Trunks was left stuck with nothing to do. He slumped in the couch and began surfing through his channels.
---
The leaves are starting to change color, Bulma noted. She really should have asked Vegeta to take her to Papaya Island. It sure beats driving down the deserted road for an hour and a half.
Both sides of the road were lined with trees, trees, and more trees. Maple trees of all height and color, each with its own distinguished shape. Like people, some were wide and some where skinny and tall, but when she looked further down the road, they all blended into one single wall of gold, amber, and lavender. From above, it was almost like a natural carpet.
Yet Bulma cared little about nature. She had way too much to do to worry about what kind of birds will be singing in the morning. As far as she knew, the only bird she has ever thought twice about were crows, when she was trying to figure out how to lure them away from her house.
Quickly wearing out of patience, Bulma turned on the radio. She usually kept it off so she can think, but today, one thing particular warning kept popping into her head, and she'd rather listen to the news than the mysterious warning that gave her more chills than she wanted. Vegeta, why on Earth did you decided to worry about me today of all days?
"And now, let's go back to the station. Maeda-san?"
"Hai. We have just gotten a missing child report from our West City headquarters. It appears that a young boy, age eight, pale cerulean hair and light brown eyes, wearing glasses, were last seen near the foot of Mount Paozu. According to the report, the boy was hiking with his family when he ran off into the woods and disappeared. If anyone has any information, please call...."
Bulma turned the volume down to zero. Stupid. What parent would be stupid enough to loose a child while hiking anyway? What had the world been turned into, reporting missing children instead of stocks like they are suppose to?
Involuntarily, however, Bulma found her eyes flickering to her side mirror. See, she found herself thinking and then breathing a sigh of relief. No boy here. But what she saw in her mirror made the missing boy a minor event. A figure was flying behind her car. At first, she grew nervous, remembering Vegeta's warning. Then, as the figure drew closer, Bulma relaxed. It was only Vegeta.
Stupid Vegeta! You gave me a heart attack!
Behind the flying car, Vegeta saw Bulma relax entirely, and a smirk crept into his features. In a burst of speed, he moved in front of the car and charged at the blue-haired beauty.
---
Bulma floored the stop pedal hard, but it was too late. She watched in horror as the car sped out of control towards the figure, which no longer resembled the prince she loved. A second later, she totally forgot about her fear of running the person over. Rather, she was more afraid for herself, when the figure, instead of moving out of the way, charged right through the windshield and made a grab for her. The last thing Bulma heard before drifting into unconsciousness was her own, high-pitched, glass-breaking shriek.
---
^_______^ Sorry. I know I've written a lot of cliffhangers (almost on every chapter?), but I think this one's the worst. I know I shouldn't have ended there, but I felt that the story has been kinda dead lately, and I thought the last scene would give it some life. After all, it's the climax.
The story finally gained a heartbeat. The action has started! I have a feeling this story is going to turn into another twelve-chapter fic. Why are all my fic ALWAYS twelve chapters? The big mystery will be revealed soon. I'm almost sad to see this finished. I had a fabulous time writing this mystery. I love dropping clues! Naturally, it won't be the last time I'll write a mystery. I already got an inspiration a while back for another one, but I still need to work on the plot more.
For the first time, I used Japanese words in my story. The reason: I didn't know what they usually say in English. What DO reporters say when they switch scenes from one to another? I only know it in Japanese because that's one of the dwindling memories I still have in my mind about Japan. Oh, how I miss those days... The good news is that I'm going back to Japan this summer. I'm already getting excited. I can finally see things that I missed when I was nine, like manga and anime. Yes, I wasn't a normal nine-year-old back then. All I cared about was schoolwork, as sad as that is.
Continue reading this side note only if you are really, really bored...
By the way, has anyone ever read Counterfeit Detective? It's a children's mystery book. Two days ago, the author of that book came to our school for Career Day, and I got to hear his speech about being an author. It was very inspiring, even if he wasn't the best presenter out of the three presenters I listened to. In fact, his speech was kind of lame, but the information he gave was quite interesting. I got a lot of my questions answered about writing that I've been wondering for a while. Despite the fact that he's not J.K. Rowling, I felt very fortunate. It's not everyday you get to talk to someone who've actually published a book, you know!
Bulma walked into her office, and her knees almost gave away at the sight that met her. On her desk, piled high into the ceiling were letters, reports, documents, and contracts. Just when she thought things couldn't be worse, the phone rang underneath the pile. Ugh, I'm just going to let my secretary get that, she though, and dragged her feet over to the mountain of work, slumping heavily on the leather chair.
Who knew the desk could hold so much stuff? It was almost as if an architect was hired to arrange the papers in a way so that they occupy the entire surface without making anything fall on the ground. There wasn't any room left for her even to put a finger. As soon as she got comfortable, however, she realized with a dread that she had to stand up on her chair to reach the top of the pile. Slipping out of her high heels, Bulma steadied herself on top of the rotating chair. Then, her mind worked just a second too late and, where she tried to grab hold of to keep her balance, papers came toppling off the desk, bringing her along.
On the floor in front of her desk, Bulma winced in pain as she tried to get up. A few more steps to gain her footing, and several more crumpling sounds came from beneath her foot. She looked around her, and wished she hadn't.
The whole floor was covered in at least two inches of white. What made it worse, yet, was what she saw on her desk. There was still a good half of the mound on her desk, untouched. Is it just me, or did the volume increase by themselves? She had no time to dwell on the possibilities, for the muffled ringing just a few seconds ago was now a high-pitched shrill. She decided, now that half the papers were already on the floor, that she might as well dig the phone from under the insane pile and answer it.
Holding onto the edge of the desk, she tried to get up, but it was all in vein. It seemed, the more she tried to lift herself up, the heavier her body became. Finally, giving up on standing, she tried to grasp the edge of the desk in one hand and plunged the other one into the stack. Who cares if the papers got crushed? More than half of them were already covered with my footprints.
Much to her frustration, she just couldn't reach the phone. Yet it was no easy task, keeping grasp of the desk, and she let it go, deciding to rest for a while. As she lay on her back, reality came seeping into her brain.
---
A strip of golden ribbon fell right across Bulma's eyes, blinding her. Still half-a-sleep, Bulma repositioned herself to get into the shadows. From there, she began her painful ordeal to stand on her feet. At every movement, her body cracked in complaint. It took almost three minutes for her to pick herself up and sit on her bedside. Then she finally registered her surrounding. The annoying phone was still ringing on her bedside table. Groaning, she leaned forward and grabbed the phone. Even a task as minor as that caused her muscles to strain and crack.
With half-closed eyes, Bulma struggle to control herself from screaming into the phone. "Hello?"
---
Trunks dejectedly looked out the window, his eyes never leaving the Gravity Room door. He still couldn't understand why he was kicked out. He thought his father would be more than happy to hear him wanting to train at the break of the dawn. At least, that's what his reaction would have been yesterday. With his chin rested upon his overlapping hands and eyes half drooping, Trunks looked like almost sad... almost. Of course! Trunks nodded in understanding, the way he has seen his grandpa do it. Dad must want to be left alone so he can think about last night. Boy, something must have really gone wrong.
Regaining some of his spirits, he picked up the phone and dialed Goten's number. If his father doesn't want him training today, he might as well take advantage of it. His forlorn features were quick to be replaced by a wide smile, a smile that always held some mischievous plans.
---
"Hello?" A sleepy Chichi grumbled into the phone.
"Obasan? This is Trunks. May I-"
"Oh, how are you, Trunks?" Chichi's demeanor changed at once. Goku woke up when he heard the unfamiliar coldness in his wife's voice.
"Uh... I'm doing fine. May I please-"
Again, Chichi interrupted him in that same emotionless tone. "I'm sorry, but Goten and Gohan is grounded today. They aren't leaving the house, and they are certainly forbidden from any outside contact."
"Oh. Well, how long is he grounded for?"
"For quite some time, I suppose. Maybe six months, maybe a year, or it could even go as long as two years."
Yikes! Trunks thought on the other line. And I thought I was having a bad morning. Two years!? "Uh, I guess I'll call back when... when it's over..." He said uncertainly into the phone, and waited until she hangs up before putting down the receiver.
Great, now what am I going to do? First thing's first. I've gotta get me breakfast. With that decided, Trunks raced down the stairs, but screeched to a halt on the last step.
---
Goku stared with his jaw hanging open at Chichi. "Two years?!"
Chichi smiled. "I was just joking, that's all."
He relaxed instantly. "That's good. I can't imagine them sitting around the house for two years without training."
"Hey, if you want to give them an easy punishment just so they can train, they can stay grounded for the rest of their life!" Chichi narrowed her eyes dangerously.
"Of course not. They have to um... go to school and... help you with groceries." Goku laughed nervously.
A smile of relief crossed Chichi's face. And then her mouth suddenly opened, along with her eyes bulging. "OH! I almost forgot! Groceries... I have to go shopping today."
Goku looked at her in horror. "You mean we're out of food?"
"Yes, Goku. We're out of food." Then, to herself, she added, thanks to you. "Now, Goku, I have to go into the village today, which means I'm leaving you in charge of the house and make sure Goten and Gohan STAY in the house. Can you do that?"
"Uh huh. Sure. Whatever. Just make sure you get that rice cake thingie again."
Chichi sighed. A wise decision it will be to not trust him, but she didn't want to bother Bulma. So who else is there? 18? Launch? Neither of the choices sounded appealing. Although 18 was good as a friend, Chichi couldn't bring herself to trust with her children. And Launch... well, she was just out of question. What if she sneezes? She didn't even consider the guys.
"Now remember, Goku," Two hours later, Chichi stood by the door, all dressed up in her usual traditional dress, giving Goku specific instructions before she took off. Why she was even bothering with this, knowing very well that he's not going to listen to a word she says, she had no idea. "Goten and Gohan must NOT leave the house, understood? They can't get the phone, and they can't have friends over. When they wake up, they can have their breakfast. For lunch, I've left a note for Gohan on the kitchen table. The refrigerator and the pantry is off-limit for you, okay?"
Whether any of this information went into Goku's head was a mystery. All he did was nod, and when she stopped talking, he said, "Don't worry, Chichi. You can count on me."
After she closed the door behind her, Chichi sighed hopelessly at the amber sky. Goku, that's exactly what I can't do.
---
Three hours of pure training, Vegeta started his stroll back to the house, in search of breakfast. As he reached the back door, a wave of danger drenched over him completely, stopping him in his tracks. WHAT was that?? He searched around him using his ki, but there was nothing near. It must have been my imagination. Slowly, he pushed aside the thought and the glass door leading to the kitchen at the same time. When he looked up, another sudden wave washed over him at the same time Bulma trotted into the room in her navy business suit.
"Oh, hi Vegeta. Sorry, I'm in a rush. Your breakfast in on the table."
"Where are you going?" Thousand alarms went off in his head, and he ignored them all.
"Coconut Island. I have to pick up some important papers. I should be back by noon." With that, Bulma kissed Vegeta lightly on his cheek.
It was one of those few times when Vegeta was taken off guard. By the time he turned around, she was already out the door he just walked in and running towards her air car, her high heel clicking all the way across the stone pavement. "Watch your back, woman." Vegeta whispered under his breath more to himself than her.
---
From the second to the last step on the stairs, Trunks saw the whole encounter, even the kiss. Now he was confused more than ever. His parents are talking to each other without yelling their head off, and he accepted that as a good sign. For what, he had no idea. Trunks, thinking smartly, waited few minutes before walking into the kitchen yawning.
"'Morning, Dad. Where's Mom?"
"Out."
"Oh. What's for breakfast?"
"This."
Trunks followed his father's finger and saw the table overflowing in- "Pancakes!" His eyes lit up in delight.
Vegeta, looking at his son's joy, couldn't help but smile inside to himself.
The two soon began their father-son food-eating contest.
"Dad, can I take a break from training today?" Trunks said, trying to swallow five pancakes at the same time. So you can think about whatever that's bothering you, he wanted to add, but smartly kept to himself.
Vegeta looked at him once, and then nodded. Apparently, the silent message got across somehow.
"So," Trunks said casually after cramming another seven pancakes in his mouth. "How did it go last night?"
"Don't talk while eating. You don't want to end up like Kakarot and his sons." No doubt he saw thought this one as well. Trunks was hoping against hope that this time, just this time, he'll be able to get straight answers. No such luck.
And those were the last words Trunks got before Vegeta went back to training, while Trunks was left stuck with nothing to do. He slumped in the couch and began surfing through his channels.
---
The leaves are starting to change color, Bulma noted. She really should have asked Vegeta to take her to Papaya Island. It sure beats driving down the deserted road for an hour and a half.
Both sides of the road were lined with trees, trees, and more trees. Maple trees of all height and color, each with its own distinguished shape. Like people, some were wide and some where skinny and tall, but when she looked further down the road, they all blended into one single wall of gold, amber, and lavender. From above, it was almost like a natural carpet.
Yet Bulma cared little about nature. She had way too much to do to worry about what kind of birds will be singing in the morning. As far as she knew, the only bird she has ever thought twice about were crows, when she was trying to figure out how to lure them away from her house.
Quickly wearing out of patience, Bulma turned on the radio. She usually kept it off so she can think, but today, one thing particular warning kept popping into her head, and she'd rather listen to the news than the mysterious warning that gave her more chills than she wanted. Vegeta, why on Earth did you decided to worry about me today of all days?
"And now, let's go back to the station. Maeda-san?"
"Hai. We have just gotten a missing child report from our West City headquarters. It appears that a young boy, age eight, pale cerulean hair and light brown eyes, wearing glasses, were last seen near the foot of Mount Paozu. According to the report, the boy was hiking with his family when he ran off into the woods and disappeared. If anyone has any information, please call...."
Bulma turned the volume down to zero. Stupid. What parent would be stupid enough to loose a child while hiking anyway? What had the world been turned into, reporting missing children instead of stocks like they are suppose to?
Involuntarily, however, Bulma found her eyes flickering to her side mirror. See, she found herself thinking and then breathing a sigh of relief. No boy here. But what she saw in her mirror made the missing boy a minor event. A figure was flying behind her car. At first, she grew nervous, remembering Vegeta's warning. Then, as the figure drew closer, Bulma relaxed. It was only Vegeta.
Stupid Vegeta! You gave me a heart attack!
Behind the flying car, Vegeta saw Bulma relax entirely, and a smirk crept into his features. In a burst of speed, he moved in front of the car and charged at the blue-haired beauty.
---
Bulma floored the stop pedal hard, but it was too late. She watched in horror as the car sped out of control towards the figure, which no longer resembled the prince she loved. A second later, she totally forgot about her fear of running the person over. Rather, she was more afraid for herself, when the figure, instead of moving out of the way, charged right through the windshield and made a grab for her. The last thing Bulma heard before drifting into unconsciousness was her own, high-pitched, glass-breaking shriek.
---
^_______^ Sorry. I know I've written a lot of cliffhangers (almost on every chapter?), but I think this one's the worst. I know I shouldn't have ended there, but I felt that the story has been kinda dead lately, and I thought the last scene would give it some life. After all, it's the climax.
The story finally gained a heartbeat. The action has started! I have a feeling this story is going to turn into another twelve-chapter fic. Why are all my fic ALWAYS twelve chapters? The big mystery will be revealed soon. I'm almost sad to see this finished. I had a fabulous time writing this mystery. I love dropping clues! Naturally, it won't be the last time I'll write a mystery. I already got an inspiration a while back for another one, but I still need to work on the plot more.
For the first time, I used Japanese words in my story. The reason: I didn't know what they usually say in English. What DO reporters say when they switch scenes from one to another? I only know it in Japanese because that's one of the dwindling memories I still have in my mind about Japan. Oh, how I miss those days... The good news is that I'm going back to Japan this summer. I'm already getting excited. I can finally see things that I missed when I was nine, like manga and anime. Yes, I wasn't a normal nine-year-old back then. All I cared about was schoolwork, as sad as that is.
Continue reading this side note only if you are really, really bored...
By the way, has anyone ever read Counterfeit Detective? It's a children's mystery book. Two days ago, the author of that book came to our school for Career Day, and I got to hear his speech about being an author. It was very inspiring, even if he wasn't the best presenter out of the three presenters I listened to. In fact, his speech was kind of lame, but the information he gave was quite interesting. I got a lot of my questions answered about writing that I've been wondering for a while. Despite the fact that he's not J.K. Rowling, I felt very fortunate. It's not everyday you get to talk to someone who've actually published a book, you know!
