Almost…there…cough cough hack…

Chapter 11

Trunks' quarterstaff was a blur of motion as he spun it around behind his back, bringing the blunt end up into his opponent's gut. The blue garments she wore shuddered with the jolt, and she collapsed to her knees, hunching around the pain. She wasn't giving up, though. Just when any other man would have let down his guard, she swung her staff around to where Trunk's legs were positioned, attempting to sweep him off his feet. He was ready for her, and leaped as if jumping rope. As he landed, he knocked her staff away with a swift clang and brought his weapon to rest directly in front of the girl's sweaty face. She gasped lightly.

She certainly wasn't made to fight. Her delicate frame spoke of many years of pampering, and although she was fast ad agile with her staff, she was beat before she had begun to fight. Trunks waited, his bludgeon poised for the final strike, as the last few seconds of the round ebbed away. The loud whistle sounded and cheers erupted from the crowd, as was the usual occurrence.

"Fine techniques, Aurora, but perhaps you'd be better off sticking with politics." To his surprise, Aurora grinned, winked, and shook his hand before swaying sinuously out of the ring. Trunks blinked twice, grimaced, and scratched his head. Women. You can't live with 'em…

"Hey, Goten! How have your efforts proved?" Goten, who had been squirming under the ministrations of a white-clad nurse, took this opportunity to escape. His left eye was black and his arm was bandaged tightly.

"Not too bad, my friend. And yours?"

"Haven't lost yet."

"Well, prepare to, Trunks my man, because I am gonna whoop your butt in the archery competition." Trunks chuckled and slapped him on the back, the way men do…

"Hey, you look kinda tuckered out. That chick have some fire in her after all?" Goten smiled, but a worried glint was visible in his eyes.

"No, I'm fine. I think I'm a little dehydrated, that's all."

"By all means, drink some water!" Goten shoved him towards the canteen and Trunks dutifully grabbed a cup that was offered almost forcefully to him by a shy-looking attendant. Ignoring her piercing gaze, he slurped it down hungrily. He wiped the sweat off his brow and looked at the empty cup, amazed. The water was wonderful! It hit all the right spots with a sweet, tangy taste and a cool temperature that Trunks had as of yet never experienced.

Refreshed, Trunks headed towards the outer ring that was holding his archery section. All the outer circles now had colorful targets resting at one end. They, of course, were at the point farthest from the audience, and the archers shot from the outside of the stadium in, so as to not kill one of the spectators inadvertently. Picking up a bow from the rack at the wall, he drew the string back and tested it.

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The hooded man donned his inconspicuous clothing once more, rising from the rubbish bin which now held a second hand nurse's outfit. He had not enjoyed the cross-dressing experience, but the deed was done and he was the happier for it. He almost believed he could go through such an ordeal again.

Pulling his dark cowl close around his face, he slowly slinked away into the shadows, chuckling softly as he went.

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Pan watched with unfeigned interest as the participants prepared their archery equipment. She had sneaked away from Bra, not wanting her to realize how much she wanted to watch Trunks perform, and was now standing just inside one of the four major arena doorways. The view was perfect, and as her eyes trailed along the ranks of archers, she recognized at once the ability of each man and woman. Trunks had a very good chance in this round.

One woman, wearing a tight grey jacket and baggy pants caught in at the ankles, was attempting a knowledgeable air whilst twanging away at her bow as if it were a banjo. A darkly handsome fellow with a cleft in his chin was fiddling with an arrow shaft as if he had never seen one before.

And then, Pan saw him. The real challenge for Trunks. He was a student she had never seen before, with an unremarkable face and a slight build. His thin hair was pushed down with a simple steel helm. If not for his armor, Pan would have had no indication of the threat he posed. But she gazed at the armor with battle trained eyes and saw a man who knew what he was doing. He carried it, simple as it was, with a grace that made you believe it was the fanciest armor in the world.

Pan wondered if Trunks really knew what he was up against. This boy had something about him that didn't inspire the need for a second glance. Could Trunks really beat him?

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Bra lost Pan's black hair in a sea of chaos and action. She had had luck following her this far, but could press on no further. Besides, she was hungry.

Turning around and looking for a concession stand, she almost gave up due to the push and shove of the crowd around her. Suddenly she spotted a small shack that had a food-oriented look about it. She threw herself through the crowd, shoved people every which way, ignored their rude comments, and found herself face to face with a 'closed for break' sign. She sighed.

"Just my luck. Oh, well. I guess I'll just go sit down and starve." She was about to turn when she heard a small whispering shuffle coming from behind the shanty. Her curiosity getting the best of her, she silently padded around the side of the building and peered around the corner.

There was nothing there but an alleyway, but she proceeded nonetheless, pushing her better judgement off a cliff and hanging on to her instinct. Instantly a flicker of movement appeared directly before her. It was one of the tournament nurses. She was opening the lid of a large trash bin and peering inside. Bra almost sighed with relief and ran towards the nurse, but something inside her stopped her short. Instead, she hid in an alcove nearby and watched the nurse unnoticed.

The medical assistant then did something very strange. She began to strip her uniform off quickly, almost disgustedly, throwing the outer coat to the ground and spitting on it. As it continued gracing each clothing article with just such a ritual, Bra tore her eyes away in embarrassment. The nurse was a man! Thankfully he was far away, and some details were left out in the haze of distance. But still, it was not a sight she enjoyed seeing…

After counting to fifty, Bra slowly peeked around the corner again. The strange man was dressed again, but now he was wearing a long brown jacket and a low-brimmed hat. He was stealthily closing the lid of the trash bin. He lifted his head, peering around him to see if anyone was watching. Bra hunched down, attempting invisibility.

Following an eternal few seconds, the man slinked away, and Bra let out the huge breath of carbon dioxide that had been burning incessantly in her lungs. Waiting another fifty seconds and then some, Bra wiped the sweat from her brow and slowly approached the foul-smelling container, noticing at once that the strange man's footprints were clearly outlined on the soft, muck-covered ground.

"Clearly not a professional, whatever he's doing." For she knew that such suspicious actions could never be written off as anything but illegal. Shaking off her revulsion at touching such a stench-swamped receptacle, Bra gripped the green lid tightly in her hands and pushed it, slowly but surely, up and out of the way. It made a loud clang as it hit the brick wall behind it. Bra cringed, checked around for any motion, and lifted herself up over the top of the trash bin just enough so she could see inside.

The floor of the bin was covered with the usual items; banana peels, cardboard boxes, old capsulized refrigerators and toasters, et cetera. Bra spotted the white of the nurse uniform instantly, lying in the corner. She bent over the edge, reaching her hands out to grasp at the clean cloth. The problem was, she leaned little tooo far. All of a sudden she lost her balance and fell feet over head into the messy, disgusting thing.

Bra let out a squeal of horror, but slapped a hand over her mouth, muffling the sound. Something shiny had caught her eye. It was a small object sitting right beside her left hand on the floor. She hunched over to get a better look, forgetting herself in her curiosity. It was thin and tube-shaped, almost completely transparent. A slightly bulging lip was distinguishable on the open end. It looked to be made of glass, and, though too small, reminded Bra of the test tubes her mother used all the time in her lab.

Using a handkerchief from her purse, Bra picked the tube up carefully. She wrapped it tightly and slid the package into her coat pocket. This could be evidence…of what, she had no clue, but she would find out. She wasn't the daughter of Bulma Briefs, genius extraordinaire, without knowing a few simple tricks.

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The archery competition's first round was getting a little frustrating for Trunks. He knew he had the capability to beat everyone in his group for marksmanship, but for some reason, his aim was off. He was now in third place, holding on by only a few meager points, and fading fast. He watched as the second-placed guy sent his arrow flying into the bulls-eye. This was not good.

He wiped his brow and frowned. His hand was uncommonly wet with sweat. He never sweated this much! Saiyans prided themselves in their ability to at least look the better fighter. Trunks looked as if he had run a marathon, and he had only shot two arrows!

Paying attention to his body, Trunks realized how fatigued and…queasy he felt. He was focused on his task, but if he let up his concentration even slightly the ground began to spin beneath him. Something hit him hard on the shoulder, racking his body with pain, and his focus cracked ever so minutely. It was enough. Colors swirled his vision apart, torrents ripped at his back, and darkness fell.

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Why was he doing so badly? Trunks was a great archer, or so Pan had heard. She crossed her arms and grimaced. If he kept this up, she might never have the chance to beat him. If he kept this up-

Suddenly the head of lavender hair her eyes had just been trained on disappeared. Surprised, she moved her eyes down to see a crumpled form resting pitifully before a bewildered nurse.

Those in the crowd who had also been watching Trunks lose gasped and milled around excitedly. Pan yelled out before she could stop herself.

"What the-? Trunks!" She ran out into the arena, easily avoiding the various guards who were now staring at the same scene she was heading towards. She pushed through the small crowd gathered over Trunks' still form and fell down at his side. "Trunks! Wake up!" She shook him furiously, but he only groaned deep in his throat and shifted slightly. Well at least he was still alive. She shook off the fear that constricted her heart and let out a sigh. The nurse was now working over Trunks across from Pan, feeling for a pulse and smoothing her hands over his forehead.

"He's burning up. Someone go get him some water. You, girl. Go get a big, cold glass of water, and make it quick." Pan stared at her dumbly. "Do you want him to get a full blown fever? Get the water now!" Pan bolted.

Only after she had returned with the water did indignance creep into her face. "You could've asked nicer, you know." The nurse only raised an eyebrow and continued her work. Pan sighed and swallowed her pride, noticing that Trunks wasn't sweating anymore.

"Do you need anything else?"

"Actually, yes. I believe a wet cloth applied to the head would be appropriate at this time." The nurse began to remove Trunks' armor. Pan's eyes widened, but she smiled weakly and did as asked.

"Strange." Pan looked up at the sudden word the nurse ejected.

"What?"

The nurse answered her question slowly, looking at Trunks' bare chest with a pensive frown. "He looks like he has a fever, but I've never known one to be so fierce. Trunks' temperature is so high that if he were a human he would be dead." The nurse fell silent, her face calm and obviously in deep thought.

Pan looked down at Trunks' face worriedly. He still wasn't sweating. "Uh…is it bad that he isn't perspiring?"

"No. Saiyans don't tend to sweat while unconscious. His fever isn't broken, though. We need to…" The nurse was interrupted by sirens blaring behind her. A large ambulance pulled up next to the crowd, releasing from its rear two EMTs and a stretcher. In a few seconds, Trunks was gone, the clammy hand that Pan had found herself gripping absent from hers. Dismayed, she stood amidst arguing officials and brewing fighters, straining to see Trunks' getaway. Snatches of conversation exploded in her uncaring ears.

"…my trainer says I shall not fight until this thing is sorted out! I demand…"

"…heard that there's something in the weather…"

"…he said that sabotage was what caused…"

"…they should stop and investigate…"

"…unsafe…"

"…dangerous…"

Pan felt a hand on her shoulder, and a familiar voice spoke softly in her ear. "Hey, Pan. I just saw something that is sooo totally like a police movie!" Pan allowed Bra to drag her out of the pressing crowds by the arm. "I was following you, and then I lost you, and then I went into this alleyway with no food, and then this nurse was up ahead of me stripping only it wasn't a nurse it was a guy and he threw the uniform into this trash thing and so I got it but I also found this." She paused for breath and held up a queer looking glass vial, touching it only with a clean looking hanky.

Pan gave her a look that said "Okaaaay…I think I got all that…" and placed her hands on her hips. "So…"

"So this tubey thing belonged to that strange guy! And guess what? I printed it and—"

"You printed it? Since when can you dust prints?"

"Since forever! My mom showed me when I was little and wanted to be a policewoman. So I ran the prints and guess who they belonged to?"

"Who?"

"Guess! Guess!"

"Keebler?"

"No. Good try, though. That's what I thought too, but then I remembered his dad pulled him from the Academy for the way they treated him in the trial. No loss to us, thank you. Anyways, the prints were Horatio T. Nabisco's, no qualms."

"Hey, wasn't he like Keebler's right hand man or something?"

"Yup. Good memory. Thing is, I talked to Joe the security guard and he said he hadn't seen Nabisco going near his dorm in a while, so nobody really knows where he is."

"Did you try asking his 'buddies?'"

"Yeah. They were hard to find, too. They're currently being questioned."

"So the superintendent knows about all this?"

"Yeah, and he's making a statement in ten minutes. Let's go listen!"

"You gave all your info to the secret police, then?"

"Yup. Nabisco is about to see what suspension is really like, I'd say."

"Bra, you are amazing."

"Thanks. I thought so, too."

Pan, although sated with this new development, was still worried about Trunks. What if he wasn't okay? What if the fever consumed him? What if he died? &Trunks, please don't die. Please,& she thought miserably.

Arriving at the podium, Pan found herself caught once again in a milling crowd. She shook her head, lost in her thoughts of the man she had hated so recently. Why did she suddenly feel so lost , like she couldn't do anything to help? Why did the very hint of his death send waves of pain through her entire body? She had to go see him.

"Here comes the superintendent, Pan. This is gonna be great!" Bra clenched Pan's arm in anticipation. Tears blurred Pan's vision.

But why had he betrayed her? Why had he…

"You think Trunks did that willingly, Pan?" Pan started. She must have spoken out loud. "Pan, Trunks was forced by Keebler and Nabisco!"

"But he didn't HAVE to do it! He did it cause he was worried about his stupid elite status! And now, I can't even fight! I've been preparing for so long…"

"Pan, we all make mistakes. Trunks helped me get the information on Keebler that allowed you to fight the consolation battle. And the only reason he's fighting now is for you. He knows you want revenge, and he means to let you have it!"

"So he wants to relieve his guilt, huh?" she stormed. "Well, I-"

"No!" Bra said it with such force that Pan jumped. "He's doing it because he wants you to be happy." For some reason, Pan almost believed her.

"Wha?" Pan looked at Bra, confused. "But I thought he hated me."

"You ninny, you've got it all wrong. He's in l- he likes you very much."

"I have to go talk to him. Oh, man, but he's still unconscious!" Her face suddenly colored with anger. "He'd better not die!" Breaking away from a protesting Bra, Pan sped away into the crowd.

"Ah, well. I'll at least listen to the superintendent."

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The speech of the superintendent of CSSF Academy on the Day of the Tournament, the twenty-third year of Advance, the Education Era:

"Students, Patrons, and esteemed Colleagues,

it has been brought to my attention that this the famed Tournament of the CSSF Academy has been sabotaged. A student here at this very Academy has unlawfully harmed one Trunks Briefs for the purpose of rendering him unable to fight. The water supply has been connected with this action. Due to the fact that all current fighters have been endangered, the tournament will be completely shut down until further notice. All facilities will be checked for harmful objects, and all participants will be questioned.

It has been determined by our own secret police that one Pan Son, previously withheld from participation in the games, is completely without guilt in this and all related matters. I hereby reinstate her into the games as a fighter.

When the games resume, all remaining fighters will be cleared of their losses, to make the sudden entrance of Ms. Son a fair event. There will be only one round for all fighters, with single elimination. The broadsword competition will be one to remember!"

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I feel so much better about this chapter now. As it was before, Pan was just a little too fluttery and wimpy in the face of Trunks' little mishap. But no longer! She is woman, hear her roar. Behehehe…

Review!