Thanks uni babe, you are such a sweetheart! (Don't worry, I saved your
review, even though it was removed with my update)
I hope this was worth the wait - it's the longest chapter yet.
Disclaimer: I own DBZ. And if you believe that, I have some fine real estate in the Sahara Desert that I can sell you. (Translation: I DON'T OWN ANYTHING!)
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Chapter 6: I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell
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*
Thump. Thump. Thump.
So went the rhythm inside Bra's aching sensitive head, thanks to Goten.
Bra rubbed her throbbing temples. Looking over potential jobs was harrowing enough, without a massive hangover. But that's what she got for trying to outdrink Goten. Where had her brain gone during that fantastic decision? She shook her head, then winced as the action exacerbated the throbbing. She was tempted to slam her head against the desk in the hopes of blessed unconsciousness, but the only probable outcome was her breaking the desk so she nixed the idea.
Job hunting. What an awful ordeal, especially when you didn't know what you want to do. Bra had figured that she wouldn't need to work. After all, her mother was one of the richest women in the world. It wasn't as if she ever had to worry about running out of money. Though considering how much money it took to feed her father, brother who still couldn't cook and would usually snag meals at CC, and herself, well that probably was a huge monetary drain. Considering that the three of them probably ate enough for a small country within a single month. Bra didn't eat as much as the other two, but human-sized portions were still a joke in her mind. When you didn't have to worry about getting fat, why limit what you could eat? Sometimes Bra just loved being part Saiyan. If only her Saiyan physiology had prevented this hangover . . . Then again she probably consumed enough alcohol last night for five people, Saiyan or not. She considered herself lucky not to have alcohol poisoning.
She blinked her eyes blurrily. What was she doing again? She surveyed the mound of applications and newspaper clippings in front of her. Oh right, looking for a job. Despite their financial status though, Bulma was insistent that Bra get a job as soon as possible. She would not have her daughter lazing about, dependent on her parents for financial support. Bra knew she shouldn't have been surprised, her brother had gone through the same thing when he had graduated high school. Her mother still expected them both to go to college, but for them to pay their way. 'It's character building' were her mother's exact words. She felt that working would give them both self-confidence and self-reliance. And if she choose to offer them jobs in CC, they had to prove they were getting it by merit of their abilities, not blood relation. They had to earn the public's respect. That's what Bulma had done, and now she expected her children to follow suit.
And Trunks had done so. He was intelligent and hard working when the mood struck him. When Bulma had offered him a high executive position in CC, there were not many protests. In fact, the morale of the female working population had even risen tremendously. Of course Trunks had taken some flack after he made a habit of disappearing at least once every two weeks on days he was exceptionally bored. The other executives simply couldn't figure out how he managed to pull a Houdini from the forty floor building without anybody seeing him. They had also been rather confused when the only action Bulma took was to put heavy-duty steel bars over Trunks' window. Bra had to grin. Trunks could've bent those bars no sweat, but then the executives would have far too many unanswerable questions and so Trunks remained desk-bound.
Bra sighed. Trunks worked at CC through his choice, no matter how he regretted it some days. She on the other hand, wasn't so sure she wanted to work there. She was smart, no doubt about that, but she didn't have that much interest in technology or business. Then again, she didn't feel that much interest in any other area. Maybe fashion? The only thing wrong with that was she didn't want to be cast as this vapid shallow ditz, who didn't have the brains to follow in her mother's footsteps.
No one knew that was why she didn't want to go into CC - following in her mother's footsteps. If she worked there, she knew that she'd never be seen as anything but a younger Bulma. It was the curse of looking almost exactly identical to one of your parents. When someone saw you, they always saw the parent first. And because her mother was famous, it was even worse. Even kids at school wrote her off as 'rich daughter of Bulma Briefs'. She had never really had the chance to prove otherwise. She'd taken sports in high school in a vague attempt to counteract that, even though she didn't have much interest in them. After all, she should get something out of being a demi-Saiyan. However the coach had benched her half the time, just to make sure she didn't get injured. It was so frustrating! Other than Pan, Tenshi had been one of the few who had taken the time to actually get to her know her with no other motive than to know -her-. Sometimes she didn't know what she would do without him. He'd taken the gossip, the nasty rumors, media interest, and trash treatment without complaint and she loved him for it. When he looked at her, it didn't feel like he was just admiring her mother's looks.
She closed her eyes. Her mother's clone, her unofficial title. Perhaps that was the real reason why she had agreed to meet Goten. He had the exact same problem, the clone of the greatest hero Chikyuu had ever seen, but never known. She could understand why he would want to finally by seen as himself, instead of his father's replica. But why such a drastic change? Or had he been pretending since he was born? She rubbed her temples again, this was not helping her headache.
She idly flipped through some more sheets of job openings. What a duo they were: she so uncertain of her future and he so consumed by the past. Maybe they could help each other. She glanced at the clock - 3:00. Two hours of looking through application possibilities, after a rather late wake up and brunch, and no decision. Oh well, she could always look at them later. She had someplace to be.
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Fen's Plaza.
It was West City's tribute to the changing times. Shopping malls, legal underage clubs, chain stores, soaring skyscrapers, huge screen advertisements . . . it just screamed modern. Much of West City was still pretty traditional, with the exception of capsule houses, and the older residents of the city considered the Plaza both an eyesore and sign of the deterioration of their society. It was all crass materialism, sensational sexual exposure, obscenity, they whispered amongst themselves. And worse, it was contaminating the youth! Not that the youth minded. The Plaza had become thee teen hangout and place to be. A hot spot, one could say. Bra had often gone to the Plaza alone and incognito, loving the feel of anonymity among the vast teeming horde of her peers. But it made her wonder . . . what did Goten see in the place?
She fiddled with her shades, scanning the crowds for distinctive gravity-defying hair. "Oh sure, meet at Fen's Plaza," she muttered. "This place is gigantic." She growled under her breath, though in all honesty, she wasn't sure if she was angry at his obvious oversight or the fact she was powerless to correct it.
She rubbed her temples again. Her hangover was better, but she could still feel the throbbing behind her eyes. D* him. What was she supposed to do? Just stand here for who-knows-how-long? Besides, did she really want to see him again? Seeing him last night, looking so natural smoking his cigarette, made her realize that she had no idea what she was getting herself into. She had to be careful with him, he was older and . . . Something in her gut was still warning her about him. Something that said if she got to close, he might just destroy her. Her stomach felt queasy at the thought. No, that was stupid. He was an old family friend, she reassured herself, he wouldn't do anything to that would in anyway harm her. Heck, he brought her home last night, instead of letting her drive drunk, just like a nice boy. She had to snort when she registered her last thought. Goten, a nice boy. Maybe once a upon a time.
The urge to bolt rose up within her once again, but she ruthlessly pushed it down. No, she had earned this meeting and she'd be d*ed if she gave up now. Besides, she hadn't gotten the worst hangover she had ever imagined for nothing.
After a few minutes though, her resolve began to weaken. She tapped the ground impatiently. Where the hell was he? She would not be kept waiting forever!
Suddenly arms wrapped around her from behind. Opening her mouth to scream, she felt horrified when a hand immediately stifled her. She suddenly felt stupid for not wearing one of her usual disguises. Here she was getting kidnapped or mugged! For a second she froze in horror, before dormant Saiyan fighting instincts kicked in. She wasn't trained, but by Kami, she wasn't going to let him get her without a fight. The assailant suddenly found his victim to be a writhing mass of limbs and . . . a hard biter. The hand instantly left her mouth and she found herself unexpectedly released.
"F*," the man cursed and she whirled around, ready to get into the fighting stance she had so often seen her father use. Only to find herself face to face with a newly familiar person.
"C* Goten, you scared the life out of me." Her hand went to her racing heart as she took deep soothing breaths. He merely smirked in response, before wincing again as another trill of pain shot through the hand he was cradling against the black tank top he wore. Bra shook her head inwardly, had he even changed? Oh wait, he was wearing black jeans now.
"You bite hard," he muttered, though by the way he appraised her as he said the comment gave her the feeling it was a compliment, rather than a complaint.
"You deserved it, Saiyan," she sniffed indignantly. Really, for sneaking up on her! If only she knew how to ki-sense . . . Hmm, so he had intended to find her, not the other way around. Funny, she hadn't known that he was able to recognize her ki so well, especially with so many people here. It must be because she was half-Saiyan, she decided. Right. "So why are we here?" she asked after giving him a moment to nurse the pain in his hand.
"There's a place I've been meaning to check out," Goten shrugged. "It's apparently all the rage now."
"Oh?" Bra cocked an eyebrow.
"Yeah, just follow me." The bluette frowned as he began to make his way through the crowd. She shook her head before quickly getting on the path he was clearing. Following Akuma, this definitely did not bode well for her future.
*
She looked in disbelief at the big sign of Goten's chosen place.
"Paint ball," she stated in stunned incredulity. "You're kidding."
Goten shrugged again. "All the kids at the club have been talking about it. It sounds interesting enough." He began walking inside.
"Interesting? Painful yes, interesting I don't think so." He turned and now faced the blue-eyed girl in surprise.
"Painful?" he echoed.
"I've seen the welts my friends have gotten, they were huge." She knew she was bordering on melodramatic, but she was just not someone who saw inflicting pain on oneself fun. He grinned, but the expression seemed more wolfish than the happy-go-lucky grin his father was famous for. D*, she'd forgotten that he probably was one of those other people.
"A little pain can make things, interesting princess," the last words rolling off his tongue mockingly. "Besides, we're half-Saiyan. You really think it's going to bruise you?" He snorted at the thought. "But you don't have to, if you don't want to. If you can't do it, it's as simple as that."
She bristled at his off-hand tone and the fact that she knew what he was doing. He was doing it again! Trying to force her to leave him alone by silently daring her to do things she didn't think she could do. She gritted her teeth, she earned this afternoon and he wasn't getting her off his back that easily! However that instinct in her head again told her he was manipulating her. Obviously at that. But why?
She breezed past him on her way in, ignoring the fact he was smirking. "We'll just see who comes out on top during the game!" They paid and donned on their oversuits, Bra looking at her paint-splattered overalls in disgust. However one comment from Goten ('wouldn't want to see that pretty shirt of yours all dirty') convinced her to put it on.
"May the best hybrid win," she declared, before picking up her gun and slipping onto the course.
His smirk fell a few degrees and his eyes unfocused for a moment. "May the best human win," he whispered, a shadow enfolding the abyss in his eyes.
*
"Who's da man? Oh yeah!"
Goten rolled his eyes. Women, they were simply unbearable when they won.
Bra whopped again, totally pumped. "Oh yeah Saiyan! I soooo beat you." She spun around him. "I kicked major butt!" It was true, but that probably had more to do with the fact the trigger was hard for him to pull because of her bite from earlier. He decided not to mention this, not wanting to admit it had actually caused him such considerable hindrance and letting the blue-haired girl continue to gloat. However he did want to salvage his pride in the near future.
"I must say that I prefer lap dances to victory dances, like the one you gave that boy last night." She stopped spinning so abruptly she nearly fell over, her head still twirling. Her face went scarlet.
"I did no such thing!" Once she was steady enough, she put her hands on her hips and glared formidably.
"Would you even know? You were plenty drunk," he pointed out, not even reacting to the glare which would have made anyone else cower. "A few more drinks or some drugs slipped into your drink, and you might've been doing a pole dance." He smirked slightly, imagining her curves in such a position. Her flush deepened.
"Oh please, you wouldn't have let me," she huffed. His eyebrow went up and his smirk widened into a predatory grin. She gulped, that glint was back in his eyes. "And you wouldn't have let someone put drugs into my drink," she blustered on, trying to get back on stable ground. His grin didn't falter, but somehow got sharper, crueler and she felt chills run down her spine. And his eyes . . . they were even harder than before.
"Perhaps," he allowed. "Then again, perhaps I would've put them in myself." Involuntarily her eyes widened and her breath caught. After a second, she caught herself and gave a nervous shake of her head.
"No you wouldn't," she rebutted, then added weakly. "You brought me home safely."
"Ah yes, about that." His grin held no warmth, no cheerfulness. "You should be glad I don't find the smell of puke appetizing, or I might've had some fun with that situation." She paled.
"You wouldn't do that," she repeated, though more to convince herself. If only he would stop that awful grinning . . .
"Oh? And how would you know?"
"I know you Got-"
He gave a harsh bark that broke her off mid-sentence. "No, you don't. Things change princess. Welcome to the real world. I'm Akuma, not-" Now he broke off, his face turn dark for a second before he blanked it. He eyed her intensely, noting that she had taken a step away from him. "Why are you here?" His tone lost its harsh quality and was flat. She blinked, surprised by the abrupt attitude changed. She licked her lips nervously and took a deep breath, tentatively re-claiming the step she had taken.
"Just to talk," she finally answered. His eyes bored into her, and though dark humor had left them she still shifted nervously. "I know I'm not a psychiatrist, but-"
"Psychiatrist!" He looked genuinely startled by the word. He closed his eyes and suddenly gave a deprecating laugh. "You think I'm crazy," he stated, though it sounded more like a revelation to himself.
"No," she drew out the word gently, handling him now with more care. "I just think you could use some grief counseling."
"Grief counseling," he repeated, his eyes shooting open, though his tone went back to being neutral. There was silence for a long moment and Bra shifted again uncomfortably. When on earth had Goten become so unreadable? He just kept staring at that one speck in space. Bra was tempted to turn and see if there really was something out that was absorbing his attention so fully. "You think I'm mourning him?" he asked deliberately at last. She began to nod and he began to laugh. Like suddenly being struck by something so absurd one had to snicker, his laugh was tinged by craziness. However, Bra flushed and finally felt her temper flare up. If he wasn't mentally unhinged, why the heck did his mood keep changing like wildfire? He was unpredictable, and the fact he kept throwing her off balance grated on her nerves.
"What's so funny?" she demanded. And barely had the words left her mouth, than he was up in her face. She couldn't bite back a gasp at his sudden aggressiveness.
"I couldn't care less that he's gone," his words barely avoiding a snarl, then he caught himself. "No, that's a lie. I'm glad the b* left and showed his true colors."
"What the h* are you talking about?" Bra breathed in consternation, reeling from both his nearness and strange words. True colors? What the-
And then he was gone. She blinked and immediately swiveled around. She caught sight of the back of his spiky head making an exit. She had to run to catch up with him. He expected to just leave after that? She tried to grab his shoulder, but he dodged.
"Just go away." The tiredness in his voice told her to keep pushing, not that she was about to give up without any answers anyway. She darted in front of him and blocked his way, though she knew he'd be perfectly able to get away even so.
"No," she stated firmly. "I'm not going anywhere. Okay, you're not grieving. Then why did you," she groped for the best words. "did you - become Akuma?" She leveled her blue eyes straight into his, well slightly upward since he was taller than her. The man regarded her steadily, his face blank.
"Why are you here?" That same question again.
"People care about what you're doing," she frowned when he snorted. "They do, but frankly Goten, you've scared them! They're more afraid of checking up on you than my father!" After a tense moment, a small crack of a smile rewarded her stab at humor.
"That's not that much of an accomplishment anymore," Goten remarked dryly, but Bra seen enough of her parent's fights to know that she had won the standoff. "You want to know what's up with me?" he asked her directly. She nodded stiffly. "A vow."
It took her a minute of silence to realize if she wanted details, she'd have to press for them. "A vow," she repeated. "What kind of vow?"
"A vow of following a certain code of behavior." She narrowed her eyes. Now he wanted to get technical.
"What does the vow entail Goten?" she asked, her voice betraying some annoyance. His lips quirked in the beginnings of a smirk for a moment before fading.
"To not be the man my father was." Bra was taken off guard by his frankness.
"Why not?" the question spilled from her lips before she could think. His face darkened ominously and she knew she had crossed a line. This was not the time. "Okay," she said quickly. "We'll take about that another time."
"Another time?" He repeated, his face losing his tenseness. Inwardly Bra let out a sigh of relief. It always worked with her father; when he was upset, you just had to distract him and he'd start to relax, or at least as much as he ever did. "Who said we're going to get together again, princess?" He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms.
She huffed and imitated his pose. "I am, if for no other reason than as reward for kicking your butt in paint ball." Vaguely, she had to really wonder if seeing him again was a reward. He shrugged noncommittally, before a smirk re-emerged on his face.
"But wasn't it nice kicking something so fine?" he all but purred. She looked at him for a full minute before comprehension dawned in her cornflower blue eyes. Her red flush colored her cheeks, but she chose to ignore his blatant flirtatiousness. This man had more mood swings than ChiChi on a bad day! Actually, maybe that was where he got it from, she mused.
"We'll meet here again tom-, no I can't make tomorrow," she muttered to herself. "Make that Friday same time." She glared at him, ignoring his playful grin. "You got that?"
"I won't want to deprive you of the chance of seeing my fine-looking self again," he preened. "I'll be there."
She growled as she watched his back saunter off. "Ugh! And they call my father vain," she muttered. Somewhere in the back of her head though, she couldn't help but agree with his first sentiment. A* he was, but a fine one at that.
It would take about an hour for her to realize that she had once again just about begged to see him again. He kept trying to get her to go away, and yet . . . she was lured to keep on insisting to stay. And in the back of her mind came a sneaky suggestion-
Had that been his purpose all along?
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Hmmmmm. What do you think? What exactly is Goten up to? And what's up with his vows, oops, I meant vow? *hint, hint*
So how did you like mood-swingy Goten?
For any of you who are waiting for the Pan or anyone! to show up, they will soon. I'm planning a whole Z fighter reunion, and guess who gets dragged into going? *evil chuckle* Believe me, that chapter is going to be pretty interesting. Until then though, I need ideas for what Goten & Bra can do. I have their conversations planned out but I need settings, (if you haven't noticed I'm not big on describing surroundings).
Also, at last we shall meet Tenshi! The chapter should be out by Friday next week. *crosses fingers*
Toodles!
Nitte iz
I hope this was worth the wait - it's the longest chapter yet.
Disclaimer: I own DBZ. And if you believe that, I have some fine real estate in the Sahara Desert that I can sell you. (Translation: I DON'T OWN ANYTHING!)
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Chapter 6: I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell
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*
Thump. Thump. Thump.
So went the rhythm inside Bra's aching sensitive head, thanks to Goten.
Bra rubbed her throbbing temples. Looking over potential jobs was harrowing enough, without a massive hangover. But that's what she got for trying to outdrink Goten. Where had her brain gone during that fantastic decision? She shook her head, then winced as the action exacerbated the throbbing. She was tempted to slam her head against the desk in the hopes of blessed unconsciousness, but the only probable outcome was her breaking the desk so she nixed the idea.
Job hunting. What an awful ordeal, especially when you didn't know what you want to do. Bra had figured that she wouldn't need to work. After all, her mother was one of the richest women in the world. It wasn't as if she ever had to worry about running out of money. Though considering how much money it took to feed her father, brother who still couldn't cook and would usually snag meals at CC, and herself, well that probably was a huge monetary drain. Considering that the three of them probably ate enough for a small country within a single month. Bra didn't eat as much as the other two, but human-sized portions were still a joke in her mind. When you didn't have to worry about getting fat, why limit what you could eat? Sometimes Bra just loved being part Saiyan. If only her Saiyan physiology had prevented this hangover . . . Then again she probably consumed enough alcohol last night for five people, Saiyan or not. She considered herself lucky not to have alcohol poisoning.
She blinked her eyes blurrily. What was she doing again? She surveyed the mound of applications and newspaper clippings in front of her. Oh right, looking for a job. Despite their financial status though, Bulma was insistent that Bra get a job as soon as possible. She would not have her daughter lazing about, dependent on her parents for financial support. Bra knew she shouldn't have been surprised, her brother had gone through the same thing when he had graduated high school. Her mother still expected them both to go to college, but for them to pay their way. 'It's character building' were her mother's exact words. She felt that working would give them both self-confidence and self-reliance. And if she choose to offer them jobs in CC, they had to prove they were getting it by merit of their abilities, not blood relation. They had to earn the public's respect. That's what Bulma had done, and now she expected her children to follow suit.
And Trunks had done so. He was intelligent and hard working when the mood struck him. When Bulma had offered him a high executive position in CC, there were not many protests. In fact, the morale of the female working population had even risen tremendously. Of course Trunks had taken some flack after he made a habit of disappearing at least once every two weeks on days he was exceptionally bored. The other executives simply couldn't figure out how he managed to pull a Houdini from the forty floor building without anybody seeing him. They had also been rather confused when the only action Bulma took was to put heavy-duty steel bars over Trunks' window. Bra had to grin. Trunks could've bent those bars no sweat, but then the executives would have far too many unanswerable questions and so Trunks remained desk-bound.
Bra sighed. Trunks worked at CC through his choice, no matter how he regretted it some days. She on the other hand, wasn't so sure she wanted to work there. She was smart, no doubt about that, but she didn't have that much interest in technology or business. Then again, she didn't feel that much interest in any other area. Maybe fashion? The only thing wrong with that was she didn't want to be cast as this vapid shallow ditz, who didn't have the brains to follow in her mother's footsteps.
No one knew that was why she didn't want to go into CC - following in her mother's footsteps. If she worked there, she knew that she'd never be seen as anything but a younger Bulma. It was the curse of looking almost exactly identical to one of your parents. When someone saw you, they always saw the parent first. And because her mother was famous, it was even worse. Even kids at school wrote her off as 'rich daughter of Bulma Briefs'. She had never really had the chance to prove otherwise. She'd taken sports in high school in a vague attempt to counteract that, even though she didn't have much interest in them. After all, she should get something out of being a demi-Saiyan. However the coach had benched her half the time, just to make sure she didn't get injured. It was so frustrating! Other than Pan, Tenshi had been one of the few who had taken the time to actually get to her know her with no other motive than to know -her-. Sometimes she didn't know what she would do without him. He'd taken the gossip, the nasty rumors, media interest, and trash treatment without complaint and she loved him for it. When he looked at her, it didn't feel like he was just admiring her mother's looks.
She closed her eyes. Her mother's clone, her unofficial title. Perhaps that was the real reason why she had agreed to meet Goten. He had the exact same problem, the clone of the greatest hero Chikyuu had ever seen, but never known. She could understand why he would want to finally by seen as himself, instead of his father's replica. But why such a drastic change? Or had he been pretending since he was born? She rubbed her temples again, this was not helping her headache.
She idly flipped through some more sheets of job openings. What a duo they were: she so uncertain of her future and he so consumed by the past. Maybe they could help each other. She glanced at the clock - 3:00. Two hours of looking through application possibilities, after a rather late wake up and brunch, and no decision. Oh well, she could always look at them later. She had someplace to be.
*
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*
Fen's Plaza.
It was West City's tribute to the changing times. Shopping malls, legal underage clubs, chain stores, soaring skyscrapers, huge screen advertisements . . . it just screamed modern. Much of West City was still pretty traditional, with the exception of capsule houses, and the older residents of the city considered the Plaza both an eyesore and sign of the deterioration of their society. It was all crass materialism, sensational sexual exposure, obscenity, they whispered amongst themselves. And worse, it was contaminating the youth! Not that the youth minded. The Plaza had become thee teen hangout and place to be. A hot spot, one could say. Bra had often gone to the Plaza alone and incognito, loving the feel of anonymity among the vast teeming horde of her peers. But it made her wonder . . . what did Goten see in the place?
She fiddled with her shades, scanning the crowds for distinctive gravity-defying hair. "Oh sure, meet at Fen's Plaza," she muttered. "This place is gigantic." She growled under her breath, though in all honesty, she wasn't sure if she was angry at his obvious oversight or the fact she was powerless to correct it.
She rubbed her temples again. Her hangover was better, but she could still feel the throbbing behind her eyes. D* him. What was she supposed to do? Just stand here for who-knows-how-long? Besides, did she really want to see him again? Seeing him last night, looking so natural smoking his cigarette, made her realize that she had no idea what she was getting herself into. She had to be careful with him, he was older and . . . Something in her gut was still warning her about him. Something that said if she got to close, he might just destroy her. Her stomach felt queasy at the thought. No, that was stupid. He was an old family friend, she reassured herself, he wouldn't do anything to that would in anyway harm her. Heck, he brought her home last night, instead of letting her drive drunk, just like a nice boy. She had to snort when she registered her last thought. Goten, a nice boy. Maybe once a upon a time.
The urge to bolt rose up within her once again, but she ruthlessly pushed it down. No, she had earned this meeting and she'd be d*ed if she gave up now. Besides, she hadn't gotten the worst hangover she had ever imagined for nothing.
After a few minutes though, her resolve began to weaken. She tapped the ground impatiently. Where the hell was he? She would not be kept waiting forever!
Suddenly arms wrapped around her from behind. Opening her mouth to scream, she felt horrified when a hand immediately stifled her. She suddenly felt stupid for not wearing one of her usual disguises. Here she was getting kidnapped or mugged! For a second she froze in horror, before dormant Saiyan fighting instincts kicked in. She wasn't trained, but by Kami, she wasn't going to let him get her without a fight. The assailant suddenly found his victim to be a writhing mass of limbs and . . . a hard biter. The hand instantly left her mouth and she found herself unexpectedly released.
"F*," the man cursed and she whirled around, ready to get into the fighting stance she had so often seen her father use. Only to find herself face to face with a newly familiar person.
"C* Goten, you scared the life out of me." Her hand went to her racing heart as she took deep soothing breaths. He merely smirked in response, before wincing again as another trill of pain shot through the hand he was cradling against the black tank top he wore. Bra shook her head inwardly, had he even changed? Oh wait, he was wearing black jeans now.
"You bite hard," he muttered, though by the way he appraised her as he said the comment gave her the feeling it was a compliment, rather than a complaint.
"You deserved it, Saiyan," she sniffed indignantly. Really, for sneaking up on her! If only she knew how to ki-sense . . . Hmm, so he had intended to find her, not the other way around. Funny, she hadn't known that he was able to recognize her ki so well, especially with so many people here. It must be because she was half-Saiyan, she decided. Right. "So why are we here?" she asked after giving him a moment to nurse the pain in his hand.
"There's a place I've been meaning to check out," Goten shrugged. "It's apparently all the rage now."
"Oh?" Bra cocked an eyebrow.
"Yeah, just follow me." The bluette frowned as he began to make his way through the crowd. She shook her head before quickly getting on the path he was clearing. Following Akuma, this definitely did not bode well for her future.
*
She looked in disbelief at the big sign of Goten's chosen place.
"Paint ball," she stated in stunned incredulity. "You're kidding."
Goten shrugged again. "All the kids at the club have been talking about it. It sounds interesting enough." He began walking inside.
"Interesting? Painful yes, interesting I don't think so." He turned and now faced the blue-eyed girl in surprise.
"Painful?" he echoed.
"I've seen the welts my friends have gotten, they were huge." She knew she was bordering on melodramatic, but she was just not someone who saw inflicting pain on oneself fun. He grinned, but the expression seemed more wolfish than the happy-go-lucky grin his father was famous for. D*, she'd forgotten that he probably was one of those other people.
"A little pain can make things, interesting princess," the last words rolling off his tongue mockingly. "Besides, we're half-Saiyan. You really think it's going to bruise you?" He snorted at the thought. "But you don't have to, if you don't want to. If you can't do it, it's as simple as that."
She bristled at his off-hand tone and the fact that she knew what he was doing. He was doing it again! Trying to force her to leave him alone by silently daring her to do things she didn't think she could do. She gritted her teeth, she earned this afternoon and he wasn't getting her off his back that easily! However that instinct in her head again told her he was manipulating her. Obviously at that. But why?
She breezed past him on her way in, ignoring the fact he was smirking. "We'll just see who comes out on top during the game!" They paid and donned on their oversuits, Bra looking at her paint-splattered overalls in disgust. However one comment from Goten ('wouldn't want to see that pretty shirt of yours all dirty') convinced her to put it on.
"May the best hybrid win," she declared, before picking up her gun and slipping onto the course.
His smirk fell a few degrees and his eyes unfocused for a moment. "May the best human win," he whispered, a shadow enfolding the abyss in his eyes.
*
"Who's da man? Oh yeah!"
Goten rolled his eyes. Women, they were simply unbearable when they won.
Bra whopped again, totally pumped. "Oh yeah Saiyan! I soooo beat you." She spun around him. "I kicked major butt!" It was true, but that probably had more to do with the fact the trigger was hard for him to pull because of her bite from earlier. He decided not to mention this, not wanting to admit it had actually caused him such considerable hindrance and letting the blue-haired girl continue to gloat. However he did want to salvage his pride in the near future.
"I must say that I prefer lap dances to victory dances, like the one you gave that boy last night." She stopped spinning so abruptly she nearly fell over, her head still twirling. Her face went scarlet.
"I did no such thing!" Once she was steady enough, she put her hands on her hips and glared formidably.
"Would you even know? You were plenty drunk," he pointed out, not even reacting to the glare which would have made anyone else cower. "A few more drinks or some drugs slipped into your drink, and you might've been doing a pole dance." He smirked slightly, imagining her curves in such a position. Her flush deepened.
"Oh please, you wouldn't have let me," she huffed. His eyebrow went up and his smirk widened into a predatory grin. She gulped, that glint was back in his eyes. "And you wouldn't have let someone put drugs into my drink," she blustered on, trying to get back on stable ground. His grin didn't falter, but somehow got sharper, crueler and she felt chills run down her spine. And his eyes . . . they were even harder than before.
"Perhaps," he allowed. "Then again, perhaps I would've put them in myself." Involuntarily her eyes widened and her breath caught. After a second, she caught herself and gave a nervous shake of her head.
"No you wouldn't," she rebutted, then added weakly. "You brought me home safely."
"Ah yes, about that." His grin held no warmth, no cheerfulness. "You should be glad I don't find the smell of puke appetizing, or I might've had some fun with that situation." She paled.
"You wouldn't do that," she repeated, though more to convince herself. If only he would stop that awful grinning . . .
"Oh? And how would you know?"
"I know you Got-"
He gave a harsh bark that broke her off mid-sentence. "No, you don't. Things change princess. Welcome to the real world. I'm Akuma, not-" Now he broke off, his face turn dark for a second before he blanked it. He eyed her intensely, noting that she had taken a step away from him. "Why are you here?" His tone lost its harsh quality and was flat. She blinked, surprised by the abrupt attitude changed. She licked her lips nervously and took a deep breath, tentatively re-claiming the step she had taken.
"Just to talk," she finally answered. His eyes bored into her, and though dark humor had left them she still shifted nervously. "I know I'm not a psychiatrist, but-"
"Psychiatrist!" He looked genuinely startled by the word. He closed his eyes and suddenly gave a deprecating laugh. "You think I'm crazy," he stated, though it sounded more like a revelation to himself.
"No," she drew out the word gently, handling him now with more care. "I just think you could use some grief counseling."
"Grief counseling," he repeated, his eyes shooting open, though his tone went back to being neutral. There was silence for a long moment and Bra shifted again uncomfortably. When on earth had Goten become so unreadable? He just kept staring at that one speck in space. Bra was tempted to turn and see if there really was something out that was absorbing his attention so fully. "You think I'm mourning him?" he asked deliberately at last. She began to nod and he began to laugh. Like suddenly being struck by something so absurd one had to snicker, his laugh was tinged by craziness. However, Bra flushed and finally felt her temper flare up. If he wasn't mentally unhinged, why the heck did his mood keep changing like wildfire? He was unpredictable, and the fact he kept throwing her off balance grated on her nerves.
"What's so funny?" she demanded. And barely had the words left her mouth, than he was up in her face. She couldn't bite back a gasp at his sudden aggressiveness.
"I couldn't care less that he's gone," his words barely avoiding a snarl, then he caught himself. "No, that's a lie. I'm glad the b* left and showed his true colors."
"What the h* are you talking about?" Bra breathed in consternation, reeling from both his nearness and strange words. True colors? What the-
And then he was gone. She blinked and immediately swiveled around. She caught sight of the back of his spiky head making an exit. She had to run to catch up with him. He expected to just leave after that? She tried to grab his shoulder, but he dodged.
"Just go away." The tiredness in his voice told her to keep pushing, not that she was about to give up without any answers anyway. She darted in front of him and blocked his way, though she knew he'd be perfectly able to get away even so.
"No," she stated firmly. "I'm not going anywhere. Okay, you're not grieving. Then why did you," she groped for the best words. "did you - become Akuma?" She leveled her blue eyes straight into his, well slightly upward since he was taller than her. The man regarded her steadily, his face blank.
"Why are you here?" That same question again.
"People care about what you're doing," she frowned when he snorted. "They do, but frankly Goten, you've scared them! They're more afraid of checking up on you than my father!" After a tense moment, a small crack of a smile rewarded her stab at humor.
"That's not that much of an accomplishment anymore," Goten remarked dryly, but Bra seen enough of her parent's fights to know that she had won the standoff. "You want to know what's up with me?" he asked her directly. She nodded stiffly. "A vow."
It took her a minute of silence to realize if she wanted details, she'd have to press for them. "A vow," she repeated. "What kind of vow?"
"A vow of following a certain code of behavior." She narrowed her eyes. Now he wanted to get technical.
"What does the vow entail Goten?" she asked, her voice betraying some annoyance. His lips quirked in the beginnings of a smirk for a moment before fading.
"To not be the man my father was." Bra was taken off guard by his frankness.
"Why not?" the question spilled from her lips before she could think. His face darkened ominously and she knew she had crossed a line. This was not the time. "Okay," she said quickly. "We'll take about that another time."
"Another time?" He repeated, his face losing his tenseness. Inwardly Bra let out a sigh of relief. It always worked with her father; when he was upset, you just had to distract him and he'd start to relax, or at least as much as he ever did. "Who said we're going to get together again, princess?" He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms.
She huffed and imitated his pose. "I am, if for no other reason than as reward for kicking your butt in paint ball." Vaguely, she had to really wonder if seeing him again was a reward. He shrugged noncommittally, before a smirk re-emerged on his face.
"But wasn't it nice kicking something so fine?" he all but purred. She looked at him for a full minute before comprehension dawned in her cornflower blue eyes. Her red flush colored her cheeks, but she chose to ignore his blatant flirtatiousness. This man had more mood swings than ChiChi on a bad day! Actually, maybe that was where he got it from, she mused.
"We'll meet here again tom-, no I can't make tomorrow," she muttered to herself. "Make that Friday same time." She glared at him, ignoring his playful grin. "You got that?"
"I won't want to deprive you of the chance of seeing my fine-looking self again," he preened. "I'll be there."
She growled as she watched his back saunter off. "Ugh! And they call my father vain," she muttered. Somewhere in the back of her head though, she couldn't help but agree with his first sentiment. A* he was, but a fine one at that.
It would take about an hour for her to realize that she had once again just about begged to see him again. He kept trying to get her to go away, and yet . . . she was lured to keep on insisting to stay. And in the back of her mind came a sneaky suggestion-
Had that been his purpose all along?
*
*
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Hmmmmm. What do you think? What exactly is Goten up to? And what's up with his vows, oops, I meant vow? *hint, hint*
So how did you like mood-swingy Goten?
For any of you who are waiting for the Pan or anyone! to show up, they will soon. I'm planning a whole Z fighter reunion, and guess who gets dragged into going? *evil chuckle* Believe me, that chapter is going to be pretty interesting. Until then though, I need ideas for what Goten & Bra can do. I have their conversations planned out but I need settings, (if you haven't noticed I'm not big on describing surroundings).
Also, at last we shall meet Tenshi! The chapter should be out by Friday next week. *crosses fingers*
Toodles!
Nitte iz