A/N: Okay, I don't own DBZ, or any of it's characters... except maybe in
my dreams. I DO own Tringa, though anybody willing to steal her would have
to be DESPERATE. Aight? Oh, and this is my first attempt at fan-fiction
by myself. Please don't flame it- if you wanna flame me, wait till I get
my second chapter up first, please. Then I don't care. Constructive
criticism VERY welcome. And compliments are okay, too... if you're willing
to give 'em. Anyway, I'm rambling. Here's the story- or its beginning,
anyway.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She was only twelve years old. At least, that's what the others had said... nobody knew for sure. All she knew was that she wasn't like any of the other kids. They didn't understand her- even after the first week. So, she tried to stay away from them. Live on her own- a sort of street urchin.
She had one friend- a boy a little older than her, who was almost the same way. Only he actually remembered his parents, his old home, his life before the streets. That didn't keep him from being a sarcastic little twirp who got more delight out of cracking jokes or playing pranks on poor innocent people than playing any games. His name was Kedar. He never told anybody his last name.
She'd been playing one day, out in the city streets, when a boy at least five years older than her had sought her out to be the prey of the day. She normally tried to stay away from these kids- they tried to start fights. She didn't want to fight. Risking her life in the streets and watching tournaments where OTHER people fought was much more fun. Kedar normally took care of the guys for her- too bad today he was on the other side of town visiting some old friends. Why hadn't she gone with him?
"So, what's the twig doing? You shouldn't be in the streets alone, Tringa. You're liable to get hurt." He shoved her, trying to provoke some emotion. She hadn't smiled, laughed, yelled, or even cried since anyone had first seen her. And people always did watch..
Well, she finally lost her temper. Or, rather, she'd found it. While the boy had been laughing at some snide comment from his peanut gallery, she'd punched him. Without even meaning to hurt him, the single punch from her skinny frame had thrown him straight back through his friends, into a man.
The man didn't seem to notice- or wouldn't have, if a flailing arm hadn't knocked into the towering cone of ice-cream he'd been carrying, sending the whole thing to the hot summer ground.
"Hey!" The tall, black haired man whined. He sounded almost kiddish, and the pout on his face supported the thought. "What was that for?" Tringa quickly lowered her hand. She didn't want to be involved in this.
Something about her seemed to catch the man's eye. It might have been the way her little black eyes were darting around, searching out an escape route. Or it might have been the way her purple-black hair stuck up in almost the same way as his did, excepting her four black bang fringes. Either way, he noticed her. Which was the last thing she wanted.
"Hey there!" He greeted her, ignoring the boys and seemingly forgetting about the melting ice-cream mess. The bullies took the chance to run away. Far, far away very quickly.
Tringa's eyes flew open wide, and her mouth worked, trying to sputter something to deny that she had been involved. He didn't seem to notice.
"What're you doing out here all alone?"
"I... Uhm... I... Uh..." She gulped, but it came out of more of a squeak than anything. 'How do I always get myself into these things?' she wondered, backing a few steps up from the strange man.
He bent over and balanced his weight on his knees, smiling widely at her. "You don't need to be scared! I won't do anything to ya'! I'm Goku. What's your name?"
He was cheerful. Bubbly, almost. And he *definitely* didn't act like any grown-up she'd ever met. But ther was something about him- she couldn't help but trust him already. And she ddn't trust anybody.
"M'name's Tringa. And I *wasn't* scared of ya." She said indignantly. Just because she trusted him didn't mean she had to be nice to him. Not that she meant to be mean, but she'd never been a good people person.
"Well, Tringa, what were you doing out here alone?" Goku asked, standing back up straight. His wide grin never left his face.
"Just being here. Why?" She countered quickly. Goku laughed.
"You just seemed a little... small to be out by yourslef." He seemed about to say something else, but something tackled him from behind, doubling him over. The something was a young boy a few years younger than herself, who looked like a carbon copy of Goku.
"So there you are, Goku!" A woman's voice yelled. "I should know better than to let my eye off you for one minute." The voice belonged to a black haired woman walking towards them.
"Aww, Chi-chi! I just wanted to get some Ice-cream." Goku explained, grabbing the boy off his back and holding him upside-down as he stood up. He turned his back on Tringa to carry on a conversation with his wife. The girlwanted to run off, but couldn't bring herself to do t. Something about Goku, and the little boy... There was something about them that wouldn't let her leave.
Tringa walked up to stand next to Goku. The boy he was holding notixced her and grinned. His face was turning red from the blood rushing up- or, rather, down.. Tringa just stared at him, watching as the red color deepened.
"Oh! Chi-chi! I was talking to a girl, Tringa-" He turned around to where she had been standing, and looked confused. Goku put the boy down and scratched his head. "I guess she..." He turned back around, shrugging, and finally noticed the girl's new position. "Oh! Tringa."
She was only twelve years old. At least, that's what the others had said... nobody knew for sure. All she knew was that she wasn't like any of the other kids. They didn't understand her- even after the first week. So, she tried to stay away from them. Live on her own- a sort of street urchin.
She had one friend- a boy a little older than her, who was almost the same way. Only he actually remembered his parents, his old home, his life before the streets. That didn't keep him from being a sarcastic little twirp who got more delight out of cracking jokes or playing pranks on poor innocent people than playing any games. His name was Kedar. He never told anybody his last name.
She'd been playing one day, out in the city streets, when a boy at least five years older than her had sought her out to be the prey of the day. She normally tried to stay away from these kids- they tried to start fights. She didn't want to fight. Risking her life in the streets and watching tournaments where OTHER people fought was much more fun. Kedar normally took care of the guys for her- too bad today he was on the other side of town visiting some old friends. Why hadn't she gone with him?
"So, what's the twig doing? You shouldn't be in the streets alone, Tringa. You're liable to get hurt." He shoved her, trying to provoke some emotion. She hadn't smiled, laughed, yelled, or even cried since anyone had first seen her. And people always did watch..
Well, she finally lost her temper. Or, rather, she'd found it. While the boy had been laughing at some snide comment from his peanut gallery, she'd punched him. Without even meaning to hurt him, the single punch from her skinny frame had thrown him straight back through his friends, into a man.
The man didn't seem to notice- or wouldn't have, if a flailing arm hadn't knocked into the towering cone of ice-cream he'd been carrying, sending the whole thing to the hot summer ground.
"Hey!" The tall, black haired man whined. He sounded almost kiddish, and the pout on his face supported the thought. "What was that for?" Tringa quickly lowered her hand. She didn't want to be involved in this.
Something about her seemed to catch the man's eye. It might have been the way her little black eyes were darting around, searching out an escape route. Or it might have been the way her purple-black hair stuck up in almost the same way as his did, excepting her four black bang fringes. Either way, he noticed her. Which was the last thing she wanted.
"Hey there!" He greeted her, ignoring the boys and seemingly forgetting about the melting ice-cream mess. The bullies took the chance to run away. Far, far away very quickly.
Tringa's eyes flew open wide, and her mouth worked, trying to sputter something to deny that she had been involved. He didn't seem to notice.
"What're you doing out here all alone?"
"I... Uhm... I... Uh..." She gulped, but it came out of more of a squeak than anything. 'How do I always get myself into these things?' she wondered, backing a few steps up from the strange man.
He bent over and balanced his weight on his knees, smiling widely at her. "You don't need to be scared! I won't do anything to ya'! I'm Goku. What's your name?"
He was cheerful. Bubbly, almost. And he *definitely* didn't act like any grown-up she'd ever met. But ther was something about him- she couldn't help but trust him already. And she ddn't trust anybody.
"M'name's Tringa. And I *wasn't* scared of ya." She said indignantly. Just because she trusted him didn't mean she had to be nice to him. Not that she meant to be mean, but she'd never been a good people person.
"Well, Tringa, what were you doing out here alone?" Goku asked, standing back up straight. His wide grin never left his face.
"Just being here. Why?" She countered quickly. Goku laughed.
"You just seemed a little... small to be out by yourslef." He seemed about to say something else, but something tackled him from behind, doubling him over. The something was a young boy a few years younger than herself, who looked like a carbon copy of Goku.
"So there you are, Goku!" A woman's voice yelled. "I should know better than to let my eye off you for one minute." The voice belonged to a black haired woman walking towards them.
"Aww, Chi-chi! I just wanted to get some Ice-cream." Goku explained, grabbing the boy off his back and holding him upside-down as he stood up. He turned his back on Tringa to carry on a conversation with his wife. The girlwanted to run off, but couldn't bring herself to do t. Something about Goku, and the little boy... There was something about them that wouldn't let her leave.
Tringa walked up to stand next to Goku. The boy he was holding notixced her and grinned. His face was turning red from the blood rushing up- or, rather, down.. Tringa just stared at him, watching as the red color deepened.
"Oh! Chi-chi! I was talking to a girl, Tringa-" He turned around to where she had been standing, and looked confused. Goku put the boy down and scratched his head. "I guess she..." He turned back around, shrugging, and finally noticed the girl's new position. "Oh! Tringa."