Disclaimer: I don't own DragonBallZ.
Uh, hi, guys! I am going to say one thing...I had been glancing back at a few of my past chapters in Death Match and I realized one thing. Gosh, they sucked! I was feeling a little anxious about it at first, but the more I thought about it, the more I decided...what the hell? I won't die if I rewrite it. So, after taking it down for a while, that's what I'm doing so that these make more SENSE (something I'd like to have in my stories for once)! Thank you for putting up with my rant...
So now that I've said that, I'm just going to make sure you guys remember that I love to get reviews! I try to respond to all reviews I receive, due to the fact of how much I am grateful for them.
WARNING: To anyone who read the original of this story, some original characters from before have now been removed.
With that said, I will begin...
Other World was as busy as ever as new arrivals from every planet began to stream in. The blue-white mists of souls waited in the long line impatiently, conversing (or rather complaining) with the others of the deceased. It was a madhouse; the people from Earth especially were dropping like flies. They just didn't know how to take care of themselves anymore, always dying from such poor health, and occasionally an accident (the worst cases being when they were massacred by cosmically powerful enemies.)
"Boy, how do I get stuck with jobs like this...?" one of the blue people wondered. He waved his hand back and forth as he urged the souls to keep moving.
"Welcome to Other World," his fellow worker smiled as he greeted the souls. "Welcome to the afterlife, ma'am. Welcome to Other World..."
"When do we get our coffee break?" the first one inquired of his coworker, still waving his hand.
"I have no idea," he replied. "You know the boss has to give the signal...and he's busy."
Within the gigantically astounding office complete with desk, lamp, intercom, and television set, the colossus King Yemma looked down upon his newest arrivals. The two women, Sena and Dea, stared up at him with surprising patience.
The former was dressed in a casual outfit of a white long-sleeved shirt and a pair of black jeans. She'd pulled her cranberry-colored hair back into a ponytail to keep it out of her face.
The latter was dressed similarly, only her shirt was a dark brown. Her dark purple, short-like-a-guy's hair and small nose stud gave King Yemma the impression that she was somewhat tomboyish.
"Sena and Dea," he murmured as he browsed at their files, flipping through the papers, humming now and then. He paused and tapped a finger on his desk.
"Well?" Sena snarled.
"Eh? Oh!" He sat up to attention just when he remembered that the clients were standing right in front of him. "Um, yes..."
Dea sighed.
"You two have done quite a few bad things in your life, you know. Your reputation is rather questionable...However, you did try to selflessly save each other just before you died."
"Will you hurry up?"
"S-So, you've been granted the privilege of keeping your bodies, and you'll be training with King Kai, of course!" He grinned sheepishly.
The two remained silent, until finally King Yemma wiped at his sweaty brow and pressed the button on his intercom. "Hello, please contact King Kai...tell him to come here immediately."
"Yes sir."
. . . . . .
Years later...
On the planet Earth, things were as placid as could be. In a small valley surrounded by beautiful green hills and clear blue skies, a small breeze swept over the tall grass and harmless insects buzzed by. But it was not to remain peaceful, as a young girl stepped out into the 'open enclosure' of the hill-surrounded plains.
"My, my, you have chosen a nice spot," a small voice said to the girl. "Too bad the serenity isn't meant to last..."
"Let's get it over with, then," she replied, and swung her large, dark blue bag off from her shoulder. She threw it down in the ground and knelt down to zip it open.
"Remember what to do?" the voice asked.
"Yes, of course I remember," she answered. "Lay the Dragon Balls out and summon the dragon, then ask for the wishes." She dumped the orange balls out onto the grass, and they rolled for several inches before halting. She stood and glanced down to her electric companion. "Finally. All the searching paid off, eh?"
The tiny computer screen flashed a neon green volume wave as it spoke. "So make the wish, already."
The girl frowned at the computer, and then stretched her palms out toward the Dragon Balls and shouted with a serious face. "Eternal Dragon! I summon you! Wake from your sleep!"
Silence hovered over the quaint setting for a moment. Then, the orange balls began to glow a bright gold, and overhead the clear skies vanished. Dark clouds appeared seemingly out of nowhere, and deep rumbles of thunder accompanied magnificent flashes of lightning. Howling winds started blowing the girl's short black hair, and she stepped back several paces.
Then, the balls glowed even brighter and a large, serpentine form began to snake its way up into the sky. The girl shielded her eyes from the light as she stared at the slithering form of Shenron, his miles of slender body coiling up into the heavens.
"Ah..." She stared in awe at his glorious, emerald-green form, nearly scared to the point of fainting.
Shenron finally looked down at the girl with hot glowing eyes and bared fangs. His huge, elegant legs were spread out to his sides with his claws flexed. "You have disturbed me from my slumber. Speak," he growled.
The girl cowered for a second, still shielding her eyes, before mustering enough courage to shout up at him. "I have a wish!"
"You have two wishes. State them..."
"My first wish is to have my second wish successfully prepared by the end of the next two months!"
"It shall be done. Your second wish..."
"I wish to see the greatest fights in the universe!" This time she was smiling ambitiously as she clenched her fist.
"It shall be done," the dragon answered as his eyes glowed. "Now I return to my slumber. Farewell..."
The darkened clouds dispersed just as quickly as they had formed, and the howling winds died down to their original breeze. Shenron had returned to his rest within the balls, and they floated up into the air before they separated, shooting off into the distance.
The girl looked up into the sky unsurely, until she picked her bag back up, pulling the strap over her shoulder. But something seemed different...her bag wasn't as empty and light as it should have been. What...?
She opened it up and smiled in her sudden joy. "Money!" She dug her hand into the endless pile of crisp paper money and pulled out a handful of hundred-zeni bills. "We're rich! Morgan, do you see this?"
"Yes..." the small computer answered from where it sat attached to the girl's leather belt.
"We're rich! Look at all of this! Huh?" She turned around to find more bags identical to her own, all containing money. There were hundreds of them lying around! They were everywhere! Dark blue bags overflowing with riches. "Oh my gosh!" She squealed in delight.
"I must say I'm impressed," Morgan said.
The girl began to grab all of the bags up hastily. "This is incredible! We just became richer than Hercule Satan! Think about it, Morgan, you could get a bigger data frame! You'd be smarter than you are even now!" The girl paused at the thought. "Never mind..."
Morgan gave a resentful 'humph.' "Come on, get these together. We can't have them lying out in the open."
"There's too many of them." She glanced around to the rest of the bags, turning every which way. "I can't get them all."
"This is going to take work. Find someplace to hide them until we get back to the city. Then we can worry about hiring someone to retrieve them. After that, the real work begins for the tournament..."
. . . . . .
Two months later...
Chain held her fists up in defense, panting as she glared up at her father. They were in the middle of another sparring session, and Vegeta was pushing her harder than ever.
Vegeta held a fist back, and then rammed it into her face once more. She flew back a few feet until she crashed at the other end of the GR. "I told you to defend yourself," he growled.
"You move too fast," she told him, rising to her feet.
"Then move faster, too."
"I am moving faster." She put her hands up once more.
Once again, Vegeta smashed his fist into Chain's face, too swift for her to possibly block. She staggered back, then found her balance and frowned up at him with indignation.
"Go take a break," he ordered, folding his arms over his chest.
Chain rubbed at the sore, purple-blue mark that quickly formed on her cheekbone and exited the GR as she was told. Who knew training could be so rough!
She headed into the living room where Bulma was sitting at the couch, legs crossed, lost in one of her science magazines. She lowered her article and gasped at the sight before her. "Chain, what happened?"
The small girl was silent as she looked up at her mother with a pout-y face, her purple bruise standing out conspicuously on her cheek. She slumped over.
"Oh, not again," Bulma groaned, and stood up from her chair, tossing her magazine down. She approached Chain and took her hand firmly within hers. "Come on, I'll go find you something for that."
The half-Saiyan reluctantly followed Bulma out of the living room and to the hallway, where they ascended the staircase quickly to find some ointment in the bathroom cabinets. Chain scowled...
. . . . . .
Pan was walking down the sidewalk, her dark green (not to mention heavy) backpack slung over her shoulder. She gripped the strap tightly as she stared ahead, and passed by an entire wall of advertisements. From the corner of he eye, she saw nothing interesting among them, the same ads for cell phones or drinks...
Wait, there was a new one. Pan always checked the new ads; it was something she had made a habit of. She halted in her swift steps and glanced at the small sheet of paper. 'Martial Arts Tournament this Saturday at Hurricane Archipelago, featuring the strongest fighters in the world...'
Pan grinned as she observed the paper. "All I need to know!" she exclaimed, and continued on down the path until she reached her apartment.
. . . . . .
Ring. Telephone. Videl answered it. "Hello?"
"Hey, Mom. Let me talk to Dad," Pan requested on the other end, and Videl nodded.
"Sure. Gohan!" She held the phone away at arm's length as she shouted out through the house. "Phone!"
Gohan Son came down the stairs into the living room, where he took the telephone from his wife. "Hello?"
"Dad," Pan answered, "it's me. I saw an ad today that I thought you might take an interest in. There's going to be a tournament this Saturday at a place called Hurricane Archipelago. I'm entering, how about you?"
"Hm." Gohan grinned. "I'm not that busy this Saturday. And I miss the tournaments. Sure, Pan. I think I'll go ahead and enter this Saturday."
"Enter what?" Videl wondered from the other end of the room.
"So do you want to meet up before we leave?" Pan suggested. "I think it'd be a good idea if we left for the archipelago together, but of course that's just me."
"No, I think it's a good idea," he nodded. "Come by any time before then, honey."
"Yes sir. Bye, Dad."
Gohan replaced the phone on its hook and turned to his wife. She had asked him about what they were talking about. "There's this tournament on Saturday. I told Pan I'd compete since she's going to."
"Another tournament, Gohan?" The Son woman sighed in exasperation, putting a hand to her forehead.
"Hey, it's been a while," he told her. "I'd like to brush up on my skills."
"I know..."
Gohan laughed nervously with a small smile, putting a hand behind his head.
. . . . . .
Pan reached for her phonebook and flipped through the white lined pages, glancing at each of the numbers, before stopping at the page she was searching for. She set her finger at Bra's number to mark it, then turned her phone on to begin dialing.
After dialing (and a long wait while the phone rang) Bra answered on the other end. "Bra speaking."
"Yo," Pan answered.
'Aha. Only one person answers like that,' she thought to herself, grinning. "Hi, Pan."
"Bra, I saw an ad. There's a tournament this Saturday," Pan told her excitedly.
"No kidding."
"Yeah, and I'm going to enter. I was going to say that you should, too. It'd be fun. What do you say?"
"Oh, I don't know," Bra answered, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. "It's been a long week and I'm tired."
"Come on, Bra. The tournaments are only every few years," Pan reasoned with a begging tone. "At least tell your family. I'm calling mine."
"Sure. I'll tell my family. And I'll think about entering, as well."
"Cool. Talk to you later," her friend replied, and promptly set the phone back down on the hook. Now there was just her grandfather and uncle left to notify of the news, and she was certain that the former at least would be entering.
. . . . . .
"A tournament?" Bulma struggled to keep a hold of her daughter while she kept the phone up to her ear with her shoulder.
Chain suddenly ceased her fidgeting. "Tournament?" she repeated.
Bulma listened for a long moment, until finally she reached up to the phone with her hand to secure it. "Yeah. I'll do that. Thanks for calling, then, Bra. Bye." She set her cordless phone down and firmly pulled Chain in closer. "Now be still."
"What tournament?" she inquired.
Bulma dabbed another cotton swab with ointment and put it to Chain's large, dark, bleeding bruise. The half-Saiyan breathed in sharply through her teeth at the sting. "It's a tournament this Saturday. And I'm not going to tell your father about our possibly going unless you let me finish with this."
The young girl grudgingly kept still as Bulma took out a large gauze pad and some tape to cover her abrasion.
Boy, this was a long chapter! Hope it was better than the first one. Please review!