The Strangest Thing

by Ladii-Chocolate

[BG] The only thing anyone could ever see of Bra was a cold, almost rigid exterior. No one can see past this shell, but can one half Saiyan break through and see her for the gentle person she really is?

22. Maybe Things Have Changed

-New Week. New Chapter. New Drama.-

-Same Author. Same Style. Same Humor.-

-Deserved Gratitude-: Thanks to all reviewers (both returning and new). I won't be doing review responses for the remainder of the chapters, though. If your review held a very important question or comment, please look at my profile page. Your response may very well be there.

-In this Chapter-: Oops! Unfortunately, Pan's party and all the events in it won't be included in this chapter. It'd just be way too long. Instead, we'll just have the events leading up to the party in this chapter. Don't worry; there'll still be Goten/Bra moments. Just read on to find out!

-Disclaimer-: I don't own DBZ.

-Chapter 22-: Maybe Things Have Changed…

-Subtitle-: "What do you do when your training student suddenly faints on you and her father is within ten feet of the room?"

"Oh, rays of true light, shine through the despondency that darkens my soul…"

The very next morning, Bra sat at the foot of her bed, currently staring absently at the tremendous mirror across the room while methodically moving her nails up to her mouth to bite them anxiously. Still dressed in her silky, high-quality pajamas, she took in the unattractive look of her dull eyes, chapped lips, and worn, dry face, not liking the unusual sight of herself looking so unkempt and disheveled. Well, at least her hair was back to its original grandeur (she'd made sure to wash and condition it at least four times as soon as she arrived home the evening before)…she now wished she could say the same for her usually radiant face.

She hadn't slept a single wink the night before, and the resulting consequence was being exposed quite clearly on her face now. Instead of achieving a well-deserved rest, she'd spent the evening doing what she was doing now: performing a rather nasty habit on her beautiful nails by munching them unconsciously while rocking back and forth on her bed and moaning softly.

The reason for all of this suffering? Two words: her money.

Upon first entering her room last night, she'd been rather enthusiastic about her good act for that day (giving the little money she had in her purse to the disabled man and his wife). She would have been in high spirits for the duration of the night if she hadn't foolishly decided to check the amount of cash she had within her savings account.

She remembered it so clearly…too clearly, in fact. After washing her hair several times, she'd gone to retire in her room and was comfortably under her quilt when the subject of a car crossed her mind. Without some sort of means for transportation (sorry, she refused to belittle herself and use a train or bus…and forget about walking), she couldn't get around West City without having at least one or both parents getting suspicious. To them, she was still incapable of flying correctly, and she wanted that fact to remain as it was. So what else could she do but gather up the remaining money she had and purchase a third car? She needed to replace her babies as soon as possible.

She recalled rising up to her feet nonchalantly and pressing the little blue button behind her door to request the presence of her bank account robot in her room. She didn't have to wait long for the small automaton to make its way to her quarters; in fact, it reached her in less than a few minutes, informing her in its happiest little voice that she had depleted every single account she had.

And then her world suddenly and irrevocably crashed down upon her. She'd asked the robot in her nicest, sweetest voice to repeat what it had said; and as soon as it did about three times, she'd wrapped her arms around its little neck and threatened to squeeze the wires, cables, and batteries out of it if it didn't stop lying to her. Surely some money had to still be there!

The robot had rolled its metal eyes and gently pried Bra's griping fingers away from its neck, leading the girl to mentally curse her mother for personalizing each automation that roamed in the household so well. "For the last time, Miss Briefs, one's banking account cannot replenish magically out of thin air. Don't you remember? You spent the remaining zenie that was in your account on your friend's birthday gift and a strawberry ice-cream cone."

Bra didn't know whether to scream in frustration, start bawling, or blow the robot to pieces for sounding so matter-of-factly. She remembered that she didn't necessarily have to buy that unusually expensive ice-cream cone that day; she'd chosen to purchase it because she'd been in particularly high spirits when Goten had congratulated her for becoming faster and more knowledgeable in her attacks. She certainly wasn't in the mood for picking up pieces of scattered scrap metal if she'd chosen to perform the latter option; instead, she quietly dismissed the robot from her room in order to stifle her restrained screams with the closest pillow she could locate.

An hour or two had whittled by. Her voice had since descended into a desperate, almost wounded one as she repeatedly hailed the robot back into her room to ask the same question of it, only to hear the same response.

After the seventh or eighth time of summoning the irritated machine to her room, she mentally debated whether or not to press the little gray button beside the blue one to call Tanith to her room (maybe the woman would be nice enough to console her…or maybe not), but decided to call the now-aggravated automaton back into her bedroom once more.

So here she was now, nothing more than miserable and desolate in her own bed. She cradled the small robot in her arms at present, choking out in a croaked, childish voice, "D-Do I have money now, Mr. Robot?"

The robot's eyes merely flickered onto the deplorable sight of the girl before simply deciding not to answer her question. "I really must be going now, Miss Briefs. I need to help sort your mother's mail."

Bra's eyes widened considerably as she finally released her tight grip on the robot, allowing it to scramble for its freedom. 'Mommy!' Of course! Who else could understand about what had happened like her mother? Both car crashes hadn't even been her fault, anyway; at least, not completely. Besides, what mattered most was that she was still alive and unharmed. Her mother'd be sure to grant her a new car after hearing her points; maybe even two new cars if Bra caught the woman in a particularly giving mood.

She quickly rose from her bed and slipped into her pink, fuzzy slippers, preparing for her bath, when she glanced up from the dresser in which she searched for underwear suddenly, noticing the presence of a certain somebody in her room. Without moving her head, she spoke casually, now in an optimistic mood once more, to the very annoyed individual sitting by her balcony window, "Just what are you doing here? I thought we were going to train later on today."

Goten, who, as it seemed, had been sitting by the window for a long while, now scowled irritably, rising up to his feet slowly and making his way up to her bed. He'd heard but a mere portion of the girl's tearful, dramatic conversation with Bulma's robot, but, not fully understanding it, he'd decided to ignore them and wait for her to notice him. Now crossing his arms seriously, he glared at her casual countenance. "We need to talk, Bra. Now."

"Oh?" She turned to face him at a more noticeable angle, gazing up at his solemn scowl in clear amusement. She certainly couldn't locate the foggiest reason for his unusual anger, but it pleased her to no end that for once, Son Goten wasn't having a good day. She didn't bother to placate her angry training instructor, merely adding smugly, "I never received any bulletin." She placed her undergarments down on the nightstand and awaited his response patiently.

He definitely looked less than amused at her joke, which seemed to thrill her rather than frighten her. Never removing the cross expression from his face, he said shortly, "I guess you lied to me when you said you didn't want anyone to know about how strong you've gotten."

Jokes and good moods now aside, she frowned up at him uncertainly, not understanding where he was getting at. "Just what are you talking about? You know that I always mean what I say, and I know I haven't broken my commitment of secrecy ever." Forgetting about her bath altogether, she mimicked his movements by folding her arms as well, daring him to continue.

"Marron saw you flying yesterday evening," he revealed seriously without a moment's pause, noticing a look of bewilderment magically appear on her face. "Care to explain?"

Bra blinked her sapphire eyes twice in mild shock, fingering a strand of newly conditioned hair nervously. "What?" Marron had seen her fly yesterday, when she was on her way home? She didn't believe it. "…Where was she?"

"The intersection of Central Street and Maple Avenue," Goten informed her, still irate. "She was so excited when she saw you that she called me immediately and told me. She even wanted to tell Trunks and Pan, but I stopped her and told her that I'd do it for her."

Bra could feel her heart thud heavily against her stomach. She'd been on Maple Avenue when her precious green sportscar had collided into the disabled man and his wife's car, and had resolved to fly home along that street. But how was she to know that someone she knew would spot her in flight? She mentally cursed herself for acting so stupid. She was the daughter of Bulma Briefs; there simply wasn't any room for making such rash, reckless decisions. "So…you lied to her to cover me?"

He shrugged, his sullen mood finally giving way, "You could say that. But it was a bit hard to do it. Marron just got her career test results back from your mom's new school, and it said that she'd be best at becoming a police officer or a detective. So naturally, she's a lot more suspicious and distrusting now. She kept questioning your motives for keeping your flying abilities secret."

Bra hadn't even listened to the last part of his statement. Dear, sweet Marron, a police officer? And then Pan had been recommended to be a film critic, she recalled… The Saiyan Princess found it too amusing to possibly be true. "Mom's career tests…they sound impossibly ridiculous."

A quickly-paling Goten was about to question the girl about her attention span, and why it wavered so much (after all, it was affecting the way she drove – he remembered that car accident of hers back when he and Valese were dating…and he couldn't forget the time he'd first used the Kamehameha Wave on her - she hadn't even realized it until it'd ruined her top), when the sound of workers laboring downstairs wafted up through the many floors of the building and reached their ears. Bulma had wisely asked Capsule Corp men to aid in the setting up of the party room this time around. "Anyway, Bra, Marron said that she was going to pay you a little visit in a few hours. I won't be teaching you any new moves today, however…I need to catch up on my own training with Trunks." He grinned weakly, knowing that she would probably blow up at him for breaking yet another training session, and waved as he went back towards the balcony. "I'll train tomorrow with you, okay?"

Again, she didn't even hear the remaining part of his remark as he finally disappeared from view. Marron was coming to her house? Probably just to confront her… This could not be happening to her. How could the girl just say she was going to drop in like that? Did she actually think she could just snap her fingers and be allowed to come over and talk with her? What did Marron think she was to her, her freaking playmate!

Oh, well. Bra was planning to catch Miss Chestnut off guard. She'd be the one confronting someone today, she resolved, getting her underwear and leaving the room for her bath…

But first, she'd have to lock horns with her mother…

An hour later…

Now freshly washed and dressed, with her blue eyes now sparkling in hope and optimism, Bra found her mother in one of the living rooms of the third floor, sipping tea nonchalantly while thumbing through one of her science periodicals in vague interest. The girl was about to greet her in the most polite voice she could muster (after all, that was the best way to sweeten her mother up for the kill), when she noticed the peculiar silence of a certain housemaid sitting near her mother… "Well, hello," she started, looking at Tanith's newly patched eye and sour expression curiously. "What happened here?"

"Tanith and one of my interns, Miriam, got into a little fight yesterday," Bulma explained, as the injured but now humbled woman looked up at the president's daughter with intense animosity. "Miriam ended up with half of her face bloody, but Tanith came out of it with a bruised eye and lip and her pride being destroyed, so it seems. She just had her plastic surgery done, and it looks like she's on her way to a speedy and miraculous recovery."

Bra couldn't suppress an intrigued grin. Things just kept getting more interesting in their house. "But couldn't she have bought more makeup to cover that up, though?" she inquired, not realizing how curt the presumably harmless question had sounded, and temporarily forgetting the reason for her coming to her mother in the first place. "Anyway, how did she afford plastic surgery on the spot? Did you pay for it, Mom?"

"No," Bulma said; "the Capsule Corp. Insurance Company paid for that. They cover any type of surgery costs these days - whether it's for a life-threatening reason or simply a vain one, as long as the accident occurs within Capsule Corp. walls or our house. But anyway, Miriam has been suspended for a few weeks and Tanith is getting some time off from her housekeeping duties. She'll be spending her 'vacation' at her house, where she'll meet up with her daughter for the first time in years. So say goodbye to her, dear, because you'll be relying on your own cooking skills for a couple of weeks."

Bra knew that her mother would probably never cook again, because no one in the family appreciated her cooking, but couldn't they program one of the household robots that sometimes accompanied Tanith in her daily duties to cook in the maid's absence? Well, first things first. "Bye, Tanith," the girl obediently obliged to her mother's request in a sickeningly candy-coated voice. "I'll surely miss you, so get well soon! Oh, and could you please leave this room for a few minutes? I wish to speak with my mother about something." She mockingly waved off the reproachful maidservant as she finally lifted herself off from her seat and sullenly left from the room.

Bulma put down her magazine as her daughter replaced Tanith's position at the couch, playing with her fingers anxiously. "What's wrong, dear?"

Bra didn't waste time, deciding to just come out with it. "Mom, can I please get another car?"

"But why? You already have two different capsules, don't you?" Bulma was indeed poised and ready to see right through her daughter's plan. It'd be easy, once she started on her lie… She wondered what it would be this time. "I'm waiting, Bra."

"Um…I kind of got bored by the colors?" the princess uttered weakly and guiltily, just before stuffing her face full of the butter crumpets that sat on a small, saffron plate on the coffeetable before her and avoiding her mother's knowing face. There was no way that her mother was going to find out that she'd completely totaled both cars.

'Nice try.' "Nope," Bulma said shortly and obstinately.

Bra seemed both appalled and indignant as she quickly swallowed her mouthful of tea cookies. "And why not?"

And on that account began Bulma's long-awaited speech on responsibility, dependability, blah, blah, blah. Sitting with her elbows propped up on her knees, Bra listened half-heartedly to the lecture. She had a vague feeling where this would all lead in a few moments. She just didn't want to hear her mother say that dreaded j-word…

"…or a job, Bra."

There. Her mother had finally said that word and she hadn't blown up or melted in a catastrophic freak accident. She blinked twice, having been torn from her reverie rather abruptly. Just to be sure of what had just transpired… "What was that you'd said?"

Bulma, still staring critically at her spoiled rotten daughter, sighed. Bra had heard; she was probably just choosing not to hear. She'd found that the very same tactic was used whenever she tried to advise the girl on limiting her clubbing time. "I said that you're just going to have to use your own money or get a job, Bra. This is utterly ridiculous. You're old enough to start working anyway. Marron already works at a department store!"

"That's because Marron's seventeen," Bra pointed out unwisely. "I'm only sixteen. Certainly sixteen-year-olds can't work until they're a year older."

"What are you talking about, Bra? Pan has worked part-time at a fast food restaurant for a few months now, and she's younger than you!" Bulma looked furious and turned the other cheek. "You're acting really spoiled. I'll leave you to do whatever you want now, but please don't come back to me until you've gotten a job, or at least shown some responsibility."

'She can't be serious!' "But Mommy…" But her mother would not listen to her petty whines anymore. She finally gave up, mumbling and groaning to herself, and rose to her feet in shame, walking out of the room. She located the nearest elevator and pressed the down button, climbing on with a couple of scientists, and reached the first floor. She walked through about three hallways before stopping at a directory in the middle of a wall. "Well, if I'm going to get a job, I'd better get one here at Capsule Corp. One thing's for certain, I'm not working at a fast food place…" She studied the large directory of career listings, grimacing as she found that most of them required at least a college diploma and a degree in the field listed. Some of the jobs were specifically designed for teenagers, she noticed; the only problem was that they were all internships and volunteering, meaning one thing: they wouldn't pay her. She sighed softly, turning away from the directory with a downcast countenance. Her mother would never believe her if she told her; what was she to do now?

Someone suddenly tapped her bare shoulder with one very cold, hard finger. She jumped, startled, and whirled around to glare at the smug face of her savings account robot. "I see you're okay now, Miss Briefs. Did your mother give you money yet?"

She scowled. That thing deserved to be "accidentally" dumped into an incinerator, with all of its smart-alecky comments. It'd probably just paused momentarily from its daily duties to rub it in her face. "You know she didn't. I need to find a job, and you're not helping by talking to me. So leave me alone or else I'll recycle you." She pushed past the small, hovering automaton and continued down the hallway, hoping to come across another job inventory in another main corridor.

The robot followed her, weaving its way through the many scientists, janitors, and security guards in the packed hallway. "But Miss Briefs-"

"Buzz off." Not even looking back at the machine, she waved a hand of dismissal toward it, expecting it to catch a much-needed clue.

"But I know where you can get a job that pays a lot by the hour, Miss Briefs!"

Bra abruptly paused in her tracks in the midst of the cramped hall and the robot accidentally ran into her back. She pried it from her back so that it now faced her, and voiced her simple response to it in such a deadly calm that her father would've been proud. "You'd better not be lying to me, robot, 'cause you'll surely know what a certain boiling hot substance does to metal by the time I'm through with you."

The robot shuddered at the mere thought. What a horrible human! "M-Miss Briefs, I'm not lying. I j-j-just came back from the Capsule Corporation Bank, and they just informed me that a job is available. It's an accountant's assistant at an office at the bank, and the amusing thing is that they don't mind a high school student working there, as long as you have a general knowledge of Algebra 2."

Junior accountant? Bra shook her head vividly, casting the very prospect of her tagging along some dork all day and calculating figures for him or her out of her mind. No math for her, even if it did pay a million zenie an hour. "Uh-uh; no way. Isn't there any other job in this place that doesn't require that much work?"

The robot looked doubtful as Bra resumed her walk down the corridor. It'd expected the girl to be rather enthusiastic about arithmetic, being the daughter of Bulma Briefs and all. "You could always check your mail for a job, although you might not like it very much, Miss Briefs…" It automatically popped open a compartment in its lower body to reveal a small, crumpled paper and a neat letter, which it handed to the blue-haired girl.

Bra snatched both items from it, ripping the letter open first to see what it held. She was indeed surprised, however, to see that it was a hologram message, a slide show really, one that held many pictures of her and a certain saddened boy in it. A few scientists glanced her way in slight interest as the message at once began a sappy love song, ending abruptly with a final, ill-written note:

Do u kno dat u made duh wrong desicion about me and u?

Todd -n- Bra 2getr…no more

She blinked twice as the hologram finally disappeared, astonished at how poorly done the little 'movie' was. Was this kid sincerely serious? And just where had he obtained all of those photographs of her? She figured that he truly was a stalker, filching them from her own house when no one was present, or maybe he'd just managed to find them off the Internet. "Honestly," she muttered to herself, crumpling up the letter and tossing it in the nearest garbage bin as she now stalked down the lobby, "will people ever learn to leave me alone for once!" This twit was just another justification on top of many others why she was so sick of her surroundings sometimes.

Never noticing the hallway immediately emptying after her little outburst (everyone was now growing a bit frightened of their employer's daughter's attitude), she now bitterly unfolded the multi-colored sheet and glared at what it said:

To Whom It May Concern:

The following request is addressed to my fellow employees here at Capsule Corporation, or to any other persons who may be interested in the job opening to be described.

As some of you may very well know, due to the increasing success here at this prospering business, we have received many new workers in our already populated staff. And with this comes many other things for our new staff: insurance coverage, health and dental care, and free daycare for any children an employee may have. With the increased amount of children (ranging from infants to five-year-olds) now populating our Capsule Corporation Daycare Center, may I request for somebody's assistance here with me? Hours are reasonable and the pay is extremely worthwhile. All I require is a child at heart to help me. And all of the kids are little angels; trust me!

Please call ------- for any questions or send an information bot to the center if you are interested. Once again, thank you.

Sincerely yours,

N. Reilly

Kids? Bra stopped in the center of the lobby once more, brows furrowed in immense thought. She'd never thought herself as a kid-lover before, having never associated with them at sixteen years old. She knew that lots of girls her age were making loads of profit babysitting them, though, and she definitely needed some dough as soon as possible. The ad had asked for a kid at heart… Did that apply to her, though? She had to admit that she did act pretty childish and juvenile before her mother and father at times (just to get what she wanted, of course); but did that necessarily mean that she was a 'child at heart'?

And then she remembered her Sleeping Beauty dreams. So she still believed in fairy tales, big deal. Okay, she didn't inescapably have them circulating in her thoughts every second, but she still thought it a possibility that one day, someday, her special someone would find her. After all, didn't every girl secretly wish for her Prince Charming to suddenly come out of nowhere and whisk her off her feet, taking her to Happily Ever After?

Maybe holding a part-time job at a daycare center for a few months wouldn't be so bad. Children were adorable little plucky things; she could survive with them. After all, Snow White had had her forest animals, and Cinderella had had her little mice and birds, and the Little Mermaid had had her denizens of the deep to keep her company…who ever said that this princess couldn't have her own cute companions to follow her around? All of the aforesaid princesses had led moral lives, and it'd all ended up with them having a happy ending with their prince.

And it was Bra's turn to be on the receiving end of the totem pole this time around. Okay, so she was still under that pointless philosophy that if she did something good, she'd get something in return for her benevolence… She just had to have a caring heart that didn't expect anything in return.

Which would be as hard as hell, of course, for someone of her personality.

She just had to be nicer to everyone…including him. Even if it pained her to do it, even if it ended up brutally killing her, she just had to try. She wouldn't belittle herself to actually being on amiable speaking terms with him, but she wouldn't exactly be intolerant to him either.

She sighed, turning around to face the robot again, and ordered it to tell this N. Reilly that she was interested in the job and that he or she should expect her at the center the day following Pan's party. The robot sped off on its task almost immediately, and she soon found herself walking slowly up the nearest stairs to head back to her house in a contemplative, almost dejected mood.

She'd just gotten her hands on a job, and so quickly at that; so why did she feel so disconsolate? Keeping a happy-go-lucky countenance was harder than she thought. Already at her room before she knew it, she opened the door to reveal a blonde laying on her bed nonchalantly, thumbing through her old fashion magazines in boredom. Cutting her eyes at the sight, Bra cleared her throat loudly, causing her visitor to look up suddenly.

Marron glanced up at the younger girl, cracking a genuine smile as she rose from her spot at the bed and set the magazine down on the princess's nightstand. "Hi, Bra! Your mother told me to wait here for you, in case you were wondering… Wow, I feel like I haven't seen you in ages! How have you…b-b-been?" she uttered the last word nervously as Bra loomed over her threateningly.

The younger girl held a rather nasty scowl on her face, indicating to poor Marron that if she wasn't in good spirits, no one else deserved to be. "You listen here, Marron, and you listen real good," she now hissed – she wasn't planning on wasting any time. "I don't know what you saw or didn't see yesterday, but you'd better know this: you're not going to ruin the one thing I have going on for me. You're not going to tell anyone that you saw me flying, understood?"

The blonde gulped in her speechless fright, causing Bra to immediately feel guilty for her rude outburst. "Um, o-okay…" Her cheerfulness now successfully purged from her being, she glanced at the carpeted floor, wondering what the blue-haired girl was planning to do next. Never before had she been threatened like this…she mentally questioned herself about what Bra was going to do once she heard Goten was planning to tell Trunks and Pan. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to let her know. After all, the girl hated Goten, and that would cause unnecessary trouble. But she still wanted to know one thing before Bra threw her out of the room. "…But Bra, why didn't you tell anyone that you could fly? It's nothing to be ashamed of, you know." There, she'd said it.

Bra sighed dejectedly and decided not to even dignify the question with an answer, walking back to the open door and motioning to it for Marron to catch a hint. She'd just ruined her promise to herself about being nicer to everyone, and she hadn't even begun yet! If she was acting this rude to poor Marron, how would she act towards Pan? Towards her brother? …Towards him?

Now she just needed to be by herself for a few hours, just to think. Or maybe even gawk at her party gown again (she just couldn't get enough of that dress!)… "I'm really not in a good mood, Marron. Please get out - now."

"But I never told you what I really came here for!" protested Marron. She dug into her compact pink purse frantically, searching for and finally unearthing something from inside it. In her hands Bra could see a bottle of creamy pinkish nail polish and a small manicure kit. "I just thought you'd like to hang out with me for a few hours…and maybe we could give each other mani-pedies? Come on, I came all the way here just to get kicked out?"

'…What?' No one had ever expressed a desire to 'hang out' with her before. Bra took one last glance back at the hopeful girl, taking in the sight of her big, optimistic eyes, and gave in. "Fine…" She probably wasn't going to have fun anyway, but at least Marron would. What else could she do, anyway, until tomorrow (which meant training) came?

She shut the door behind her and went back to her bed, quietly hoping for the best. Then again, the 'best' never happened to her, so she couldn't be too optimistic.

Thirty minutes and about ten polished fingernails later…

A half-hour later, however, Bra was having the time of her life. She'd never allowed anyone other than a professional do her nails, and although it had been extremely painful at first to watch her guest unintentionally get nail polish on her fingers rather than on her nails, she'd grown to become amused by it…especially when it was her turn to give Marron her pedicure.

"Bra!" the older girl squealed girlishly, instantly moving her foot from Bra's lap to examine her toe. She reached for the bowl of snacks Bra had ordered a service bot to send up to the room and selected two chocolate chip cookies from it as she stared at Bra's first attempt at painting someone's nail in horror. "You smudged the nail polish on my big toe!"

Bra couldn't stop giggling as she grabbed Marron's leg to lay it back on her lap so she could resume painting. "Yeah, just like you smudged nail polish on the majority of my fingernails…now hold still!" She'd never known how much fun talking to another girl her age was. She'd always perceived other girls to be malicious, jealous beings…now here she was, hanging out with one of them for the first time, and she was actually enjoying it. She certainly didn't regret not kicking Marron out.

Right now they were having fun being complete girly-girls. The topic had strayed from last year's fashion trends to the best clubbing spots to the much-anticipated subject of boys (at least, in Marron's case it was – Bra seemed a bit uneasy to enter the topic). At present, the blonde was goading her newly found friend to tell her about any past crushes she'd had.

Bra merely rolled her eyes and blew lightly on her fingernails to get them to dry quicker, not knowing just how to answer the question. Would Marron just laugh and scoff at her if she told the truth, or would she think she was a weirdo for not liking anyone ever? A little voice inside her head, however, told her that the truth never hurt anyone, and she found herself answering a bit boastfully, "I've never had a crush on a guy before. They're the ones chasing me; not the other way around."

The gaping look of shock on Marron's face showed her that she was surprised to hear this. "You're kidding me. You mean to tell me that you've never gone on a date before?"

Bra now looked a bit uncomfortable; a look tantamount to that of a sugar-crazed Pan's when she was forced to fight Vegeta months ago. She gently scraped at the side of a polished nail before choosing to answer. "Nope. I'm perfectly happy being single," she now fibbed (okay, forget about the truth never hurting anyone…a little white lie didn't harm a thing sometimes either), "but when my special one taps my shoulder, you can bet I'll turn around faster than you can blink."

'Special one…?' Marron bit her tongue, suppressing any might-be rude comments she so desperately wanted to make, as an awkward silence passed them by. She nibbled on a cookie as she finally found her voice again, irrefutably deciding on a verdict. "Hun, we really need to get you out on some dates. You're deprived."

"I am not deprived," argued Bra heatedly. She glowered at the nearest wall and began to mess with her hair, not feeling comfortable with discussing how she felt about this topic with someone she rarely talked with. "Okay, so I don't spend time dating like other girls do, but I'm waiting for the right guy. I don't want to waste my life with the wrong ones."

"Well, I'm waiting for the right guy, too…I'm just having fun with the wrong ones while I'm looking. And there's nothing wrong with that," Marron pointed out, noticing that the girl was purposely avoiding her. She honestly had her head up in the clouds; and Marron felt obligated, as a fellow girl, to help bring her back down to Earth before she hurt herself. "Look, Bra," she started, picking up the nail polish remover, manicure kit and the nail polish and putting them back into her handbag, "You're a really pretty girl; don't you think everyone'll be surprised when you're eighteen and you tell them that you've never had a boyfriend before because you're looking for the 'right guy'? Don't you think guys will try to take advantage of you, just to tell their friends, 'Hey, look, I had the first go at her'?"

"They wouldn't dare. I'd hit them right where it hurts if they even played with the notion. And frankly, I don't care if I've never had a boyfriend before. Pan hasn't, and she's perfectly okay."

Marron rolled her eyes at the rash comment and rose to her feet, clutching her purse within her hands tightly. This girl needed to get a grip on reality, but she was too darn adamant, obstinate and plain stubborn to realize it. "To think that the day would come when you'd be comparing yourself to Son Pan… Well, I do hope you find your 'special one'. And soon, at that. You sound extremely deprived, like I said."

Bra sighed, playing with her hair again, and began to absently flick the dingy cotton balls that were soaking wet from worn nail polish and nail polish remover into the tiny bin near her nightstand. "Whatever, Marron. But I hope so, too, for my sake," she joked feebly, trying not to give her companion the wrong idea.

The two stared at each other for a few moments fleetingly, weighing the chances of somehow becoming closer 'friends.' Could it ever work out, or were they just too different? "Well," Marron was the first to break the awkward silence once more, "I have to get going. Mother's preparing my dress for Pan's party, and I want to see how it turns out. But it was nice spending time with you, Bra," she added softly, gazing at the younger girl sincerely.

"Yes, it was," came the simple reply. She lay on her plush bed and turned the other side, refusing to look at Marron's face any longer.

Marron let out a soft breath and left the room, closing the door behind her, leaving Bra to think about everything that had just transpired in the room: boys, true kindness, dreams, and her childish, futile longing for love. Maybe Marron was right about her…but why did she have to bring it up when she was actually having fun for the first time in ages? She sniffed obstinately, wiping at her nose with the back of her hand. No – Marron was wrong. She would never be a normal girl and go on dates, fooling around with the wrong guys and knowing that they were wrong. She was too impatient for that. The first guy she dated would be the last. She'd end up marrying him, and they'd live happily-

Real life is not a fairy tale, Bra.

…That was what Marron had wanted to get across to her, but she'd been too nice to actually say it to her face.

But what, then? What could she do? She hated herself right then and there, hated herself for opening up to Marron in the first place, hated herself for hating everyone, hated herself for having stupid dreams, hated herself for attracting stupid lechers instead of good guys, hated herself for ruining her own life before she'd even started it. It was wrong, but right now she just wanted to be alone in her room, pondering about a life she hadn't even begun to live yet.

Too bad no one else wanted her to be isolated. She mentally swore a slew of curse words as the unwelcome sound of Videl and Pan Son talking to her mother downstairs filled her ears. That meant Gohan was also there, obviously, which meant that they'd be using the GR all afternoon, which meant-

A small knock sounded at her door unexpectedly, causing her to lift her head from her velvety pillows, and she immediately felt bad for indulging in her unusual self-loathing. "Whoever it is, what do you want?" she called out to the door numbly, not knowing what to do or be anymore.

The voice behind it didn't even notice how dejected she was presently feeling. "Hey, it's just me," the individual whispered through the crack of the door opening. "Just wondering if you still wanted to train before I left. Gohan and Pan are here, which means we can't use the GR, but I'm sure we can find some other place to spar."

So he was still here. Bra sat up on her bed at the very first identification of his voice and tugged self-consciously at her clothes to straighten them, hoping she looked presentable enough in her tight little tube top and short shorts. Everything became a lot more interesting when he was here. Not in such a bad way, either. "Come in."

The door swung open to admit none other than a very sweaty Goten, who had evidently just finished training with her brother. He took a long look at her in her hardly conservative outfit before grinning optimistically at her worn, still confused face. "Why so blue, Bra? A few hours ago you were happy…it's almost like we switched attitudes or something."

She glowered at him uncertainly, taking back what she'd thought about him just a few minutes before. Forget it – he'd always be a naïve moron in her mind. "You leave me alone right this instant, or I'll give you something to be blue about." She scrunched up her nose in disgust as he took a seat beside her on the bed. "And take a bath while you're at it. You'll utterly stink up my room with your nasty aroma."

Instead of retaliating like he used to months ago, Goten merely laughed and rose from her bed, now stretching his limbs for the second time that day. "How 'bout we train here? This room looks a lot bigger than your other bedrooms; we'll just move everything to the side like we do to the living room we usually train in."

She folded her arms, now in the attitude he usually associated her with, and smirked. "Okay. But you're doing everything this time around. I literally went through HFIL and back today while you were comfortably training with my brother."

He shrugged indifferently and set to work pushing everything to the side, noticing that after a while Bra did come to his aid, although it was hesitantly at first. When they'd finished the work (it took half the time required for such a load since Bra had decided to help), the Saiyan Princess stood a reasonable distance from him, her arms folded again. Goten didn't get it. "What now, Bra?"

"Oh, nothing." She was secretly surprised at how quickly her mindset had changed ever since he'd shown his face a few minutes earlier. Wasn't she griping and moping about her unfulfilled life not even fifteen minutes ago? "I'm just wondering why you never go Super Saiyan on me."

He ignored her as she sat on the carpeted floor, legs sprawled out, and began to stretch her arms toward her left foot first, and then the other. Finally, "I don't think you're ready, Bra. That's all." Although she was steadily advancing in both her agility and her strength, she was still lacking greatly in her defense skills. What would her parents say if she came to them the very next day toting a black eye and a busted lip as a result of him being a Super Saiyan?

"Oh, really? Well, why don't you try me? I've gotten a lot faster since we've first trained, you know." She was really getting aggravated with his stupid, good-for-nothing excuses. It was always the same thing…when would she ever be ready for him? "What are you waiting for? Come at me, and I'll show you just how fast I am now." She completed her warm-ups and stood up again, frowning at him.

He shrugged again and accepted her challenge. "Okay…but I'm not ascending just yet, that's for sure." Before she could utter a single protest, he'd abruptly flash-appeared before her and tried to gently punch at her stomach.

Luckily enough, she'd remembered one of the very first rules he'd ever taught her before he actually made contact: think before you act. And that was how Son Goten, for the very first time in all of their training sessions, only succeeded in punching thin air.

He stopped in his tracks before delving into another attempt for an attack, his mind blank, staring at her triumphant face in wonder. Finally a proud smile forced its way unto his face, showing Bra that he was indeed pleased with her progress. "Wow, Bra…I guess you were right about getting faster!"

"Surprised you, didn't I?" she grinned, but didn't have a chance to delight in her triumph as he fiercely took the opportunity to punch her again. She quickly countered by moving the back of her arm to deflect his hit strongly, sending him back a few inches before he decided to try again.

Goten raised an eyebrow in slight interest as she stood in her fighting stance, awaiting his next move. He couldn't possibly fathom the pained expression she wore behind her usual smirk, however. Bra was sneaking in a small wince of tortured suffering at every interval as she stared down at her now-throbbing arm, which was flashing bright red and showing signs of bruising. That was something that was going to ache her tomorrow morning, she didn't doubt it. But she wouldn't swallow her pride and let Goten know what he'd accomplished.

She'd merely use her other arm. Sure, she wasn't exactly used to relying on her left arm in battle, but as Goten had instructed her months ago, it was best to be accustomed to using both sides during training as much as possible, in case something happened to the more capable limb. She didn't want to think about it, wishing that they were in the Gravity Room rather than in her biggest bedroom. If they were fighting in the GR, she'd be able to use summonings to attack him had her right arm failed her there, instead of the constant worry of damaging something in her room hanging over her head. Well, she'd just have to rely on her legs right now. This was a small taste of reality, Goten had told her once. Even though it wasn't as serious as her arm getting blown up, she was forced to take up another defense. She was smart; she'd figure out a good defense or maybe even an offense in her own good time.

She continued to block each of his attacks with her own fist, by simply dodging them with her rare speed, or by countering with a few outward kicks. She didn't see Goten's countenance show the very rare feeling of aggravation (at least, for him it was), she didn't notice him put more power into his attacks, but still, she evaded each and every one of his punches or kicks.

Instead, she used her unseeing eyes to drift into yet another reverie. She hadn't even realized it immediately, but although they contrasted rather greatly in meaning and context, Goten and Marron's advice both carried the same message to her. Here she'd been, for the past sixteen years of her life, snug in the comforting knowledge that nothing totally bad (at least, nothing worse than overbearing parents and malicious girls and irritating perverts) could possibly happen in her life, never comprehending that her existence on this planet was almost tantamount to a delicious lie.

It pained her to reflect on it, but the more she did, she realized that she needed to wake up from this thing she referred to as living. It wasn't living when you hated everybody who smiled around you, while secretly craving their happiness. It wasn't living when you sat up in your room and gazed at the wall sightlessly, indulging in your own sorrowful solitude and wallowing in your own self-pity. It wasn't living when you hadn't socialized amiably with a single person your age since you were four.

She longed, yearned, desired for someone to rouse her from her whimsical slumber. This someone would be there for her no matter what; he'd bravely chop down the vines of resentfulness that lingered in her soul, climb the tower of insecurity and wake her up with the refreshing touch of his lips against her own.

After all, it was no use existing if you couldn't live.

It was no use living if you couldn't…be.

…Reality.

She blindly missed one of Goten's punches at her in the midst of her pensive thoughts, however, and as the half-Saiyan boy was using his full power to attack her, his fist connected powerfully into her nose, causing a fountain of crimson blood to come gushing out uncontrollably like a broken faucet.

Her eyes widened with the sudden realization that she'd been hit, feeling the obvious pain that usually accompanied hits of that striking power. With natural instinct, she cried out and moved her hand to touch the tender spot, noticing out of the corner of her eye the sight of Goten rushing over to her in sincere concern.

He could only offer a goofy smile as an apology as she whirled away to prevent him from fully seeing her bloody nose in embarrassment before the smile melted away to serious concern. "Heh, oops. Bra, I'm really sorry."

It was okay, really. It wasn't like she was nursing a black eye, although she'd often wondered how that would feel. She was secretly pleased that he'd finally used his full strength, just before ascending, to spar with her. It only meant that she was getting stronger. The only problem was that she had to prevent this from happening again. It'd happened once before, this not assuming full attention while she trained with him. She'd pay a dear price sooner or later if this were to happen during a serious fight, so she made it her goal right then and there to stop drifting off. It wasn't like sparring with him bored her; training was quickly becoming a favorite pastime of hers, no matter how trying and secretive it proved to be at times. She was glad that she was wearing a simple tube top, but she certainly didn't like the way the crimson color of her blood that flowed so incessantly from her nose dripped onto her clothes and clashed with the bright red of her shirt. "Don't worry, I'm fine." She attempted to wipe at her nose, but only succeeded in wiping the bloody gore all over. 'Oh, gross.' She managed a weak grin as he quickly went into his pocket and revealed a handkerchief that his mother had sewed especially for him, using it to gently dab at her nose to help ebb the flow of the blood.

"Aw…" a feminine voice from behind Goten caused the two to jump.

"How sweet," Bulma breathed softly, leaning against the slightly cracked door and standing with her ear to it near the woman who had just spoken. She'd forgotten all about her earlier anger with her daughter, the feeling being replaced with that of futile aching for her own husband to treat her that same way sometimes.

"MOM!"

"V-Videl!" Goten protested in an unaccustomed stutter, and immediately jumped about three feet away from where his student presently stood. "How long have you two been listening?"

"You mean 'How long have you three been listening?'" Bra corrected angrily, her face reddening almost as much as the blood that ran from her nose. She sniffed and shielded aforesaid body part with the handkerchief she'd snatched from Goten when they'd first heard the interruption, sensing a familiar age-mate trying to stifle her laughter. "I know you're there, Pan."

"Okay, okay. You caught us," the fifteen-year-old gave in, entering the room with her mother and Bulma by her side. "We were just wandering by, looking for a 'clean and acceptable' kitchen to snack in, seeing as Tanith just left the majority of them incredibly dirty. But tell me, what are you two doing together in a room…by yourselves? And how come all of your furniture's pushed to one side, Bra?" She crossed her arms cunningly and awaited their petty excuses.

"Well, Bra wanted me to help clean her room, so I-"

"I was looking for something when I hit myself and screamed, so he came to my room-"

Videl and Bulma hardly looked fazed by the obvious fabrications. "Well, which is it?" asked the former. The onyx-haired beauty looked at her friend's daughter and her brother-in-law with new eyes, and suspiciousness seemed to forge a chasm between her and them. "We certainly can't believe both stories. They don't make logical sense."

Bra cut Goten a withering gaze, as if to tell him that she'd do the job of explaining herself. She was an expert fibber, mistress of blatant prevarication. Still holding the handkerchief up to her nose, she started as sweetly as she possibly could, in a rather honeyed tone, "You see, I've been looking for the novel that I've been reading recently, The Strangest Thing, that I think I've misplaced. I pushed all of my furniture to the side in my search, and while I was looking for it, silly me, I hit my nose against the wall. I screamed like any sane person who almost fractured her nose might, and he, with his nosy self, came rushing in my room trying to help. I told him that there wasn't any problem, and that if he really wanted to help, he could help clean my room. See? There's nothing wrong with that."

Goten was utterly shocked. To think someone could weave two lies together so perfectly under pressure…! Bulma broke his thoughts, turning to ask him, "Is this true, Goten?"

He nodded almost too many times to count. "Oh, most certainly, Bulma." He glanced down at his watch. "Oops, I'm going to be late for dinner. I really have to go or Mom will be steamed."

"But don't you want to eat dinner with us, dear?" Bulma asked him gently. "I decided that although certain ingrates in this house refuse to be aware of the things I do for them, I'm going to be a responsible mother and wife and actually provide something to eat. Sure you don't want to join us?"

Goten and Pan immediately shook their heads. "No thanks, Bulma. We'll be fine."

"Actually, I'm thinking of ordering something."

"Oh! Well, in that case…"

"Yeah, we didn't want you to go through all the trouble and make something for us."

Bulma stared at the floor and bit her lip. "…I'm sure that was it. Isn't it ironic that Marron said the very same thing before she left, Videl?"

Videl nodded absently, gaping at Bra's bruised arm in increasing alarm, but decided not to say anything. The girl followed her gaze and promptly tried to shield it from view in self-consciousness, which led the woman to believe that if Bra had really wanted to tell them what had happened there, she would have done so by now. Besides, Goten, being the gentle being he was, couldn't have possibly pounded at Bra purposely…would he? "We have to get going also, Bulma. We'll talk on the phone later or do something tomorrow, okay? Come along, Pan."

Said quarter-Saiyan shrugged and followed her mother out of the door, still sneaking a few curious glances at her age-mate, who merely waved her off. Bulma soon proceeded to leave after them, probably off to finally do some science-related work, leaving Bra and Goten alone in the former's bedroom.

Goten was about to take off as well when Bra tugged at his sleeve in an informative, almost demanding manner. She stared up at him and handed him his newly soiled handkerchief, mouthing out the words, "Gravity Room, tomorrow at two in the afternoon. Don't be late."

He nodded at once to show her his understanding, knowing that she'd find a way to divert her brother and father's attentions during that time, then stared at the bloody serviette in bewilderment. "You sure you won't need this again?"

"Does it look like I'm bleeding anymore?" she snapped meanly as he placed it back into his pocket in a flustered manner. Her voice softened uncharacteristically, however, as she walked him to her balcony window. "But thank you, anyway."

He grinned back at her as he prepared to take off. "You're welcome, I guess." Something was peculiarly different with her; he just couldn't put his finger on it. He'd wanted to ask her how her confrontation with Marron had went, but it didn't seem to him as if Bra wanted to talk to him about anything. Heck, he'd be damned if she wanted to talk to anyone about anything. He shrugged, casting his thoughts aside, and departed from the open window, waving a small good-bye to a stoic Bra.

As soon as Goten departed from her view, she plopped down upon her bed, feeling too weary to lift a finger and return her possessions to their original positions, or even to exchange her sweaty, bloody clothes with pajamas. What she needed now was a long, long rest, and this time around, she was determined to get what she sought. Her father wouldn't mind so much if she missed dinner because after all, her mother was making it, so it'd be pretty self-explanatory why anyone would want to suddenly vanish as soon as supper came.

Strangely enough, though, she couldn't succumb to drowsiness. It was a fitful, almost erratic sort of slumber that left her waking up with sudden starts at constant intervals, and caused her to dream about distorted castles and her bruised arm and Goten's handkerchief and…

The relentless tensions she felt when in the presence of others, the implacable longings, the desire to do something to redeem herself…was driving her over the edge.

The very next day…

Goten flew through the bluish skies of West City in a hurried haste, barely taking any time to notice his surroundings. The powerful winds that accompanied the clouds above blew fiercely against his quickly chapping face, but again, he didn't permit the strong gusts to hinder him from arriving at his destination.

She'd said to meet her at the Gravity Room by two this afternoon, and it was already nearing three-thirty. She'd kill him for his unreliability, he knew she would, or at least something equivalent to that horrifying effect. He knew it wasn't totally justified to place the blame on someone for his tardiness, but if he could, he knew who to rightfully accuse – his so-called best friend, who'd irrevocably crashed down upon his world with the fateful telephone message that they'd be tending to his niece's whim the entire day of the party as a prevention from her learning of the surprise. They'd spent at least an hour or two in heated argument, a debate in which Trunks insisted that he wouldn't be dragged down to his grave if Goten wouldn't. Finally, Goten had given in, just before noticing in horror that it was already three o' clock. Trunks had had no time to question what Goten had to do so suddenly as the half-Saiyan had already hung up on him and was already on his way to Capsule Corp.

'This is not good…not good at all,' he mentally scolded himself as he finally caught the sight of the massive building best known as Capsule Corporation in the near distance. He slowed his flying down to a mere hover, then broke it off altogether to run in a fast gait towards the outside entrance of the Gravity Room.

He was about to walk, or rather run, around the other side of the circular building to get to the outside door of the Gravity Room, but thought it wiser to simply cut through all of the bushes that seemed to encircle the large establishment in an elegant manner. He stopped as he neared the bushes, seemingly in a mental battle against himself. Would it do any good to deface public property and go through the carefully arranged hedges, or would it be better to just have Bra wait a few more minutes and go around to the door? He stopped. That incredibly impatient girl - waiting? The prospect amused him to no end, as was shown on his face with a grin, so he proceeded to push his way through the thickened branches and leaves of the bushes, barely noticing how the sharp branches caught onto his arms and gave him severe scratches - one in particular that had begun to bleed heavily rather inconspicuously.

Bra was currently seated at a small bench in the Gravity Room, applying eye shadow, eyeliner, and some clear mascara onto her face in a narcissistic manner while simultaneously glancing at her diamond-studded watch in plain indignation. That unreliable halfwit…she'd told him to meet her at two, but had she gotten what she wanted? No… She'd done her part, having told her father and Trunks that the GR was down, and that her mother had promised to get it running again the very next day (she'd conveniently located the robot that'd informed her about her soon-to-be new job and forced – er, let it do the task of alerting her family members), but had he done his? She grumbled incoherently as she raised the eye pencil she had been using to bring out the full color of her eyes to apply it once more. She understood that it wasn't necessary to wear cosmetics while sparring (in fact, it was a waste of time and effort, as Goten had once thoughtfully put it), but she didn't like the way her usually gorgeous orbs were now dulled and lifeless, due to a total of two nights without beauty rest.

Within the next second, however, she replaced her makeup and lavish watch inside her purse and rose from her spot at the bench when the sound of someone coming in the Gravity Room through the back entrance, panting loudly in a vain attempt to catch his breath, caught her immediate attention. She turned to view the sight of Goten leaning against the metal wall of the GR with a tired but relieved countenance. Her face showed prompt contentment that he'd actually showed up, but that was quickly replaced by a deep frown and her arms instinctively crossing themselves as she stalked up to him. "I don't believe you know how to read time," she began her rant almost abruptly, "because if you did, you wouldn't be an hour and forty-five minutes late, now would you!" She paused, about to delve into her complaints of how many times she'd had to convince her father and brother about the GR being broken down, and moved her irate gaze down to the ground. Her eyes at once narrowed as she noticed the small pool of blood on the tiled floor, a single drop at every interval making it grow bigger and bigger. Confused, she directed her gaze to the location where the last droplet of blood had come from. "Oh, my goodness!"

"What?" Goten followed her gaze, only to discover that he was somehow bleeding profusely from a small but deep cut on his left arm. "Wow…I didn't even feel that one-"

She suddenly wasn't paying any mind to his foolish comments, instinctively grabbing the arm (which caused a shocked reaction from Goten) and sweeping her eyes over the wound in the most sincerest of concerns. "Shoot, why don't you look where you're going sometimes? Does it hurt much? It's bleeding a lot… You'll get infection for sure if you don't cover it up… We've got to get you a Band-Aid…oh, where's that stupid supply droid when you need it-" She completely forgot all about her long withstanding grudge against the boy who she'd vowed to hate until the end of time - that is, until she happened to gaze up at his face and noted with both horror and resentment that Goten was just smiling his fool head off as she continued to bother with his arm. "Are you planning to help a girl out and tell her what the heck you're grinning about?"

"Well…it's just that if I didn't know any better, Bra," Goten answered mischievously, as the Saiyan Princess hesitantly released her tight grip on his arm to hear him out, "I'd say you were actually worried about me." His smile spread into an even bigger one that was immediately smacked off rather painfully.

Bra was speechless with animosity and growing red besides as Goten immediately raised one hand to touch his red face absently in simple surprise. That slap of hers…it'd actually stung, even if it was just a little bit! Perhaps she really was growing stronger. "…How dare you! I was actually trying to be nice to you for once, not that you deserve it, and this is how you play around?" She raised her hand for yet another smack (because all heaven and beyond knew he deserved it), but was halted immediately.

Goten's grinning face had since transformed into the serious one she'd only seen two days before. His hand, now strongly preventing her from striking him again, was enclosed in her own tightly…but oddly, gentle enough as to not hurt her while he held her hand. "Bra, calm down. It was just a joke," he spoke softly, staring intently into her gaping, wordless facial expression.

She couldn't utter a word as she too gazed into his face, wrapped up in the incredulous fact that he was actually holding her hand right now, and she wasn't doing a thing to stop it. Her usually quick and witty comments seemed to have betrayed her right then and there as she stood rooted to her spot, unable to take her eyes off of his for even a split second. What was in those eyes of his that was stopping her from reacting?

And…was she actually…liking the idea of his hand on hers?

Goten couldn't do anything but mimic her actions (or rather, lack thereof). He'd just grabbed her hand to stop her from making another mistake and losing her temper…it seemed as if she'd calmed down now, so why was he still holding her hand? And why…why was it that he didn't mind holding her hand right now?

And why… What was it in those azure eyes of hers, those same eyes that seemed to sparkle only when she was having fun arguing or insulting someone, that made him feel a bit funny inside; made his stomach tug? There seemed to be an almost sad, tired swirl of melancholy mixed with a lack of fulfillment within her stare…with a lifestyle like the one she led, it was enough to wonder what she could possibly be despondent about.

His onyx orbs gazed incisively into her deep blue pools, trying to penetrate them and unlock her secrets. And rather than trying to stop him from uncovering her precious mysteries, she let him in, trusting him to let her see if he himself had anything hidden from the world…

'Uh, hello?' a voice at the back of her head pointedly reminded her in a soft tone laced with irony. 'You're still holding the hand of that boy, you know, the boy who tormented you when you were little, the boy you vowed to hate until the end of time? It might be a good idea to let go before those icky teenage hormones of yours start kicking in and you start dissolving into a slobbering puddle of adolescent yuckiness.'

And with that, she immediately wrenched her hand apart from his, blushing vividly. She bit her lip and took a profound interest in the floor below her. Oh, how nicely Tanith had scrubbed each of the little metal tiles clean before she had taken her leave…

But that hand of his…it'd felt so firm and strong when he wasn't trying to train with her…

And those eyes…

'You're too late, dear,' the same voice goaded gleefully.

She mentally cursed, utterly and furiously disgusted with herself. What was she on, some self-concocting narcotic that her mind had somehow formulated? Here she was, acting like some griping, critical wife for someone she hardly deemed deserving of her concern… "Forget it. Bleed to death for all I care. Let's just get to training, please," she blurted bluntly, turning away from him so he couldn't witness how red she presently was.

But little did she know that her mind, the same reasoning that she was so proud to have, the same intelligence that had earned her the treasured role of Star Pupil in a school of sixth graders when she was only in kindergarten, the very same intellect that had won her many a verbal match…was now fighting a losing battle against her hormones.

Goten was still staring at her curiously, though. It was almost like she was hiding something from the rest of the world, and now that he was aware of her hidden secrets…he resolved to find out about them someday. Or maybe it'd forever be a puzzling enigma why she was so snappy at times, or why she couldn't laugh once in a while, or even why she took things so seriously…but he'd certainly try to discover why.

"…Now, do you fear anything, Bra? Because, sometimes, things that you're afraid of can determine the outcome of a fight."

"…I'm afraid of rejection, I guess."

What had she meant by that? "Hey, Bra…you look kind of tired. Did you go to sleep yesterday?"

His voice sounded so soft and comforting, almost as if he was actually anxious about her wellbeing. Her turquoise eyes glazed with dim recollection of why she had not been able to doze off the day before. "Let's just train." She vanished from where she had stood merely seconds ago, appearing right behind Goten, ready to send her elbow veering into his back to knock him down.

Not to be caught off guard, he whipped around to see her hovering in front of him and caught her elbow with a quick palm, using his other arm (now conveniently balled up into a fist) to punch at her and send her back.

She countered by aiming a kick directly at his head, which he ended up dodging rather easily. She found him right behind her, ready to use his own kick to send her flying towards the ground.

She could barely keep up with him at times, which she'd been aware of for an increasingly painful amount of time, but she'd certainly strive to hold her own in this fight. She ignored the tugging sensation that she was experiencing under the strain of gravity once again, sneaking in a small peek at the gravity machine before he found an open area to attack her at. Twenty percent gravity…no wonder. She'd always been accustomed to ten percent, and even that was suffering at times.

Through sheer force of will, she continued her offense, launching into a furious punching-and-kicking onslaught in midair with him. Not to be outdone, he flash-appeared right behind her again and attempted to knock her down again, his determined face showing no other emotion.

She finally caught him off guard with a kick sent to block his wrist, which sent him back almost immediately, hence giving her extra time to catch her breath. She knew that action of his was all in pretend, of course, to give her a small dose of reality. She shook her hair wildly to get her blue bangs out of her matching eyes, but had no chance to regain her posture as he returned for yet another hit.

And now, here he was again, summoning yellow energy beams from the palms of his hands and shooting them one at a time at her in a painstaking manner. Some of them she deflected away from her, feeling the warmth singe rather tortuously through her fingertips; others she merely dodged by moving away from their dangerous paths. She was about to appear right before him again in an effort to make him cease his summonings, when he'd sent one last blast towards her. She had no time to react, relying on her arms to act as a last-minute barrier to the pain that usually accompanied those types of attacks.

When the blinding light had settled and the ebbing pain she'd felt in her arms was finally beginning to dissipate, she saw him coming at her again, in a mad dash to knock her down once and for all. There was nothing else to do but to charge at him as well, which she did, causing them to indulge into yet another violent fury of punches and kicks.

"Surprise me for once, Bra…"

Oh, she would.

She grabbed the fist that was threatening to punch at her face at the moment, kicking at his stomach with all the strength left in her body before seemingly vanishing in thin air. He doubled back, confused, and pursued her based on wherever he sensed her ki. Her eyes narrowed as she retraced her footsteps (or rather, steps in flight) and flash-appeared before him, grabbing the nearest arm of his with her left hand to hold him in his place. She held her right hand dangerously close to his face, smirking as a tiny blue energy-beam emerged from her palm, growing bigger by the second, and lighting up Goten's surprised, quickly paling face. And for the first time, his face reflected…fearful shock.

They both stood in midair, inhaling and exhaling heavily to catch their breaths and making no effort to wipe away the sweat that ran down incessantly from their faces. "Wow…" Goten finally gasped as Bra hesitantly lowered her hand and let the energy beam disappear. "Y-You really do learn fast." Although they'd only been attacking each other on matters of speed, she'd really worked him out.

"Well, I'm the daughter of Bulma Briefs," she still managed to say haughtily, her figure involuntarily lurching back and forth at an alarmingly fast rate. Why was he suddenly so hazy? "I have to."

In a split second, the remaining energies in her slender body were sucked out, almost sapped – by pushing herself too much physically…and by internal strife. She uttered one last groan and blacked out right in the air. Goten didn't even have a split second to react otherwise as he caught her swiftly in his arms before she hit the floor.

This wasn't good – not good at all. He had never anticipated Bra fainting one day before, and now it'd happened and he was fully unprepared for such an occasion. He mentally debated against himself as he stood hovering in midair…what should he do? He tried shaking her softly and attempting to rouse her. "Bra…wake up." But she uttered no words, no groans, no insults, nothing in response. He attempted to wake her up again, this time more roughly and urgently than the last time, but still gentle enough not to actually harm her. "Bra, you've got to wake up…"

He was afraid that something like this would happen. A day in which he would basically lose his mind and hit her with all that he had, knowing fully well that she wasn't equipped to handle such strength. She wasn't stirring at all…she was basically lifeless in his arms, her soft, blue hair cascading limply down her shoulders and onto his hands.

What was he going to do now? She was ill, obviously, and where did sick people usually stay? 'I'll just have to let her lie down and relax for a few hours.' He decided to drop her off at her bedroom for a few minutes in order to sneak into the nearest kitchen and grab a bottle of cold water for her. Water usually helped to wake someone up from their fainting spell, after all…

But he wouldn't dare leave her unattended, even for a mere millisecond. He couldn't – who knew what misfortunes could befall her once he left her side? To make matters worse as he frantically debated, he heard a familiar couple arguing right outside the GR.

"Vegeta, you're crazy. The Gravity Room isn't down!"

"One of those robots alerted the boy and I earlier today saying that you needed to fix it."

"I said no such thing! Jeez, I've got to reprogram or at least debug some of those things. Come here and I'll show you."

"I couldn't care less if any of those pieces of cheap alloy deserve to be recycled. You'd better fix that room as soon as possible."

Goten gulped, frantically scrambling for the ground and quickly running towards the outside entrance of the GR. Forget what he'd thought earlier – this was definitely not peachy. A pernicious Vegeta plus an already irked Bulma equaled more trouble than he originally bargained for once they discovered their precious daughter's limp body. Oh, why had he agreed to start training her in the first place? It could've been Trunks in this predicament instead, or maybe even Pan… They'd handle it a lot better than he could…

He shoved the door open with his foot urgently (his hands were occupied with Bra's body at the moment), making up his mind to reimburse Bulma for the bills she'd have to pay once she caught sight of the damaged doorway. Once outside, he flew up about two or three stories, trying to figure out where her bedroom was situated today. She'd slept in the Friday bedroom the day before, which meant that she'd be in the Saturday bedroom today. But where on Earth was that room in this unnecessarily massive estate?

"Just go - but don't go into the fifth bedroom to your left on the third floor, or else you'll face one extremely vicious Bra. That bedroom's her Saturday bedroom – there's no doubt that she'll be in there."

He recalled Bulma saying that to him not even a year ago, the very same day Pan had deceived the proud president and launched off into outer space. So Bra's bedroom was on the third floor, the fifth room on the left, he reflected, slipping in through a window on the floor that was conveniently left open. He remembered everything clearly.

Only Bulma had been wrong about her daughter. She wasn't entirely vicious, at least, she wasn't rude and insolent the majority of the time anymore. They'd had many intriguing conversations while his father and the others had been out in space, and she'd been nice to prepare him food on the days when his mother was acting insane. Although he'd received many an insult from her-

"…Who would want to go out with you?"

"You train too hard."

"Of all the intolerable things to say to me, of all people…!"

"I'm not stupid. Go take your own advice."

"You know, life would've been absolutely perfect if you left with Pan."

"What? Did I break the widdle boy's train of thought?"

"Watch what you're doing, stupid!"

"Mind your own business, jerk!"

"Don't you understand anything?"

"Stop mocking me!"

"You know, the fact that I actually want to talk to you sometimes is one of those unsolvable mysteries."

"And you're still as moronic."

"Please. There're much more interesting things in life than you. Sorry to disappoint you."

"I really can't stand you sometimes."

"I don't think I care what you think anymore."

"Who says I'm going to listen to you on that one?"

"I'm doing the best I can. Leave me alone."

"This is so gross – and it's all your fault!"

"You really need to close that mouth of yours sometimes. I'm not stupid."

"I don't need your consent. When did you have the power of telling me whether I should go into my own gravity room or not? …Aren't my parents awake? My dad should've kicked you out of the house-"

"Are you out of your sane mind?"

"Otherwise I would've torn your hand off from my arm and gone after that little-"

"Don't ever touch me again… You know what? I think you've made me lose my appetite for today. No, I regress. You've made me lose my appetite for the rest of this week. I'm going home now, and I don't want you following me. I'll deal with you…later."

"And you weren't of any help… Heck, you're more of a detriment to my health than a benefit. Hmph. 'Oh, Bra, but we touch each other all the time in the GR…' Doesn't that sound in the least bit maybe, I don't know, perverted to you? Or are you too simple-minded to actually understand that your own words have double-meanings to them? And I'll be expecting you at my house at around eleven tonight, of course, unless you want to squeeze in some more shopping for Pan."

- they'd gotten along the majority of the time. Well, he'd never heard her utter his name before (which still managed to confuse and infuriate him to no end), but things were slightly different now. He'd grown used to her condescending attitude, and she'd grown used to his insouciant one. They weren't – dare he say – friends, but they were getting along almost equivalent to how companions did.

Her room wasn't too far from where the window had been. He walked into it softly and shut the door behind him, noticing how she'd neglected to make her bed that morning.

And how she'd neglected to hang up any of the clothes she'd worn the day before.

And how she'd neglected to even attempt to tidy anything up at all.

She was messy and disorganized regarding household duties at times, just like he was. Unlike his brother and her own, who were neat-freaks, he was surprised to see that although they differed greatly in matters of social class and attitudes, they were pretty much the same. He stepped over the clothes that were littering her finely carpeted floor and placed her gently on her bed after softly taking her shoes off for her, hoping that some divine intervention would step in and somehow wake her up. But none came, much to his displeasure. He grabbed the posh stool that sat before her enormous dresser and moved it closer to her bed, sitting down and observing her wan countenance.

He sat beside her silent figure, thinking pensively. Had Poster or Stapler, those meddling boys who happened to be in the same grade with him in school, seen him during such a moment, they would have certainly cuffed him sharply in the head and called him up on his imbecility. Did he not know that there was a beauty lying unconscious right in front of him? Didn't he know the meaning of "take advantage of the occasion?"

But Son Goten wasn't like the other boys in his school, which was probably why he'd allowed himself to be emotionally torn apart by Valese. The other boys she'd gone out with had merely bounced back from their wounds, seeking to go out with her once more, or deciding to date another eager girl. Maybe his sensitivity was far greater than these boys', because he hadn't recovered from the initial shock of Valese breaking up with him so easily. And his mother had given him such a hard time about not getting over the girl quick enough.

He sighed – at least Valese was out of the way now. He wasn't going to think about another girl when there was one lying before him that demanded his full, utmost attention.

It was now six o' clock, and the dimming skies outside were making the fact quite apparent. He stared down at her, taking in her unusually serene appearance.

The strong wind that had been plaguing the entire day suddenly swept in from outside, sweeping and whipping around Bra's azure hair and giving her the very countenance of an ethereal angel.

The light in the massive clouds burning gold and purple from a now invisible sun filtered through her balcony and swept over her creamy white skin, giving it a resplendent glow.

The chilling breeze that usually accompanied evenings whisked inside the room, grazing her pale white cheeks and turning them rose-colored with life, while at the same time tingeing her full lips a lovely reddish hue.

A temporary drizzle began to pour from the skies, the wind blowing it through the balcony window, making the wet droplets coat Bra's long turquoise eyelashes like morning dew.

He'd always known how beautiful she was, but never before had she looked so radiant.

That was a horrible thing to say, he resolved. No one looked more divine in an unconscious state… He directed his glance away from her face, only to stare in bewilderment at what came next: he'd been steadily holding her hand like he did hours ago in the Gravity Room…only he'd been oblivious to it this time. He immediately released his grip on her hand, only to hesitantly enclose it within hers a few minutes later, to check if it was still warm and not cold and lifeless, of course…

As if to add more problems for the dozens he already possessed, the sound of a certain infamous couple arguing came to his ears once again.

"That tux will be worn whether you want to or not! That's my final decision, Vegeta!"

"I don't know if you're planning to wear it woman if it 'will be worn', but count me out. I'm not going to that party. There are better things to do than waste my time being around inferior weaklings."

"Vegeta! You ungrateful – Just where do you think you're going now! I'm still talking to you!"

"I'm just checking on the girl, you wretched woman. I haven't seen her at all today."

"…" Bulma paused in her yelling fit and calmed down. He had a point, no matter how hard she tried to deny it. "You're right, Vegeta," she admitted in a begrudging tone. "She's probably in her room."

The footsteps sounded closer and closer to a flustered, anxious Goten. What would Bulma and Vegeta say when they saw him, a BOY, in their daughter's ROOM, with HER being in a knocked out state on a BED? Too many different possibilities and all were increasingly negative.

He rose from his seat at the stool just as the doorknob began to turn and jumped behind the balcony door in an act of desperation, hoping for the best as he instinctively masked his ki. Maybe Bra would wake up now…or maybe she'd just stay as still as a log like she'd been for the past few hours. He severely hoped the latter wasn't an option for her.

Vegeta and Bulma both ventured into the room, seeing the sight of their daughter lying rather still in her bed, dead silent. "Wake up, girl," ordered the former in a voice that commanded respect as Bulma walked over to inspect Bra's walk-in closet closely. He didn't bother watching to see if his daughter heeded his command, turning instead to Bulma, who had long disappeared inside the massive wardrobe. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Calm down; I'm just looking for her party dress," came the muffled answer. Bulma was deep in the process of hurling article upon article of clothing out of the closet, searching for the one thing she desired to observe. "She doesn't even wear some of these clothes! She's going to have to donate them to shelters or something… Hey, this is mine! Why is it in her room?"

Vegeta was suddenly hit with a skimpy skirt that had been tossed blindly by his wife, which he pried off of his face with a scowling countenance. "Come on, woman. Let's just go," he muttered in a sullen mood, temporarily forgetting that his daughter hadn't woken up yet.

"But I want to know what she's going to wear to the party!" Bulma whined childishly, pouting. But she allowed herself to be dragged out of the closet by her husband, an enormous load of garments within her hands. "She's going to pay for taking these…"

Goten, who had been holding his breath for the entire duration of their visit, exhaled loudly from the safety of behind the sliding balcony door. 'That was a close one…'

Vegeta halted in his path without warning, which allowed a distracted Bulma to accidentally run into him. "Could you at least warn someone before you stop all of a sudden?" she demanded, rubbing at her nose in case it was bruised.

"Shut up." The Saiyan Prince's voice was low and menacing. He frowned deeply as his eyes swept over Bra's room in one last inspection of it. His cold onyx orbs landed on a small stool that sat beside Bra's mattress, and they narrowed in obvious suspicion. "…Someone's been in this room, Bulma."

"What do you mean?" she asked. "It's just you, Bra, and I in this room-"

"And someone else." Vegeta was already near the closet, hurling more clothes than Bulma had done out of it in search of this 'someone.' He moved on to his daughter's furniture, overturning each sofa, chair, and table in search of the culprit and not bothering to right them again.

Bulma frowned uncertainly as he neared the balcony. "Oh, come on, Vegeta. Don't you think you're being a bit rash? Couldn't you have sensed the so-called person if he or she were actually here?"

"Keep quiet if you're not going to say anything helpful. Wait, I take it back. You never say anything helpful." Vegeta, finally finished with searching the entire room and coming up with nothing, pulled back the balcony window shades sharply, allowing the full extent of the chilly wind to blow in.

Bulma shivered, scowling at him. "Are you crazy!" She dropped some of the clothes she had hoarded from Bra's closet and picked up a thin jacket, which she immediately put on. "Watch what happens when no one's here. You'll feel incredibly stupid."

"I won't, because the fool's right behind this door, trust me," came the simple reply.

'Oh, man.' Goten held his breath once more, cursing himself for having been so stupid as to leave the stool where he'd last been. Now he was about to be found out by the most dangerous being to inhabit the earth since his mother, and surely suffer a most horrifying (and certainly painful, considering the fact that it was Vegeta he was thinking about) demise-

Vegeta pulled the door open rather unexpectedly and almost ripped it off of its hinges in the process, smirking in triumph. "I've found you now-"

He was staring at none other but the potted shrubs that stood on Bra's balcony. Bulma couldn't conceal her amused grin as she saw her husband's smirk falter before disappearing altogether to give way to a displeased frown. "Wow, Vegeta, you sure caught them in the act. Tell me, what do you have against Bra's azaleas?"

"Look, woman. There was someone here. I could hear them breathe." And he had every right to claim so, as the magnified senses due to his Saiyan nature allowed him to hear almost everything that occurred within the present area.

Bulma rolled her eyes in annoyance – it was her turn to drag her husband out of Bra's room. She gently placed a hand on her husband's forehead, checking for fever or any other sign that might signify his loss in sanity. The guy was too persistent sometimes. "Well, I'm sure those big, bad azaleas aren't going to take a butcher's knife, chop our daughter into little cubes, and toss the bloody chunks in the nearest ocean while our backs are turned. You need to take a rest, dear – maybe you've been deprived of training for too long."

"Very funny." They walked out of the room (one on her own free will, while the other was literally forced to do so), shutting the door behind them.

Goten waited about fifteen minutes until he was sure he could sense both Bulma and Vegeta's ki levels far, far away from the room. He then crept into the bedroom once more, praising himself for being so clever as to hide under the actual balcony instead of behind the door. He took his seat beside Bra once more and was surprised (and secretly overjoyed) to see that her eyes, although still shut, were twitching all of a sudden – a sign that she was no longer in her unconsciousness, but rather sleeping. 'Thank goodness.'

He gently brushed a few strands of her silky hair from her face, observing at it carefully. Yep, she was conscious – Gohan had once told him that people still blinked even in their sleep. But never mind that: was it healthy for someone to be out cold for that long of a period?

"…I'm just as much a Saiyan as you are, you know."

She had been right. Surely it wasn't extremely abnormal for a Saiyan to be unconscious for a few hours… He looked startled as without warning, she subconsciously rose one arm to rub sightlessly at her cheek. He gazed at the arm in horror, just as she let it fall limply back to her side and breathed softly in her well-deserved slumber. The arm was a rather unattractive sight of black and blue…what had happened?

'I did that, didn't I?' he asked himself morosely, recalling how Bra had sought to conceal that specific arm just the day before, and how he hadn't even given a second thought to the action. He immediately decided right then and there to go relatively easier on her. She might not like it, but if he reminded her what had happened just today, she'd be sure to give in…right?

He sighed and waited an hour more, never realizing just how dark it was becoming…

An hour and fifteen minutes later…

Goten didn't have to wait as long as he'd originally feared. At long last, Bra's beautiful, azure orbs finally fluttered open, squinting up at the half-Saiyan boy's concerned face at first before becoming accustomed to the dark. She blinked several times before finally replacing her confused look with a tiny, misunderstanding grin. "You're…" She stared down at her hand in silence and smiled up at him once more in uncertainty and hesitance.

"Oh!" Blushing furiously, he promptly released his hold on her hand. He laughed sheepishly, placing a hand on his head and laughing the infamous Son laugh.

She didn't join in his laughter. "…What happened? I thought we were training… How come I'm back in my room?" She sat up on her bed and gazed out of the window to observe the darkened skies, not quite believing what she saw. "…What time is it?" She didn't know that she'd been teetering and tottering out of her unconscious state for the past few hours, struggling to open her eyes after a long interval of insensibility but finding that they were almost glued shut.

"I guess you really were tired out, because you fainted while we were training, Bra. And it's about nine," came the simple explanation as she rose from her bed altogether to inspect the starlit sky closer. Something was wrong with her…he'd been expecting another slap or an insult dripping with indignity and outrage for staying in her room for this long. Instead, she'd smiled up at him in diffidence and asked him a few questions.

She nodded at the answer, her thoughts elsewhere. "Who brought me here?"

"Well, I did."

She didn't look at him. "…Shouldn't you be getting home now?"

Goten shrugged as she slowly walked to her balcony, almost in a daze. "I guess I could…but it doesn't really matter how late I come home anymore."

She parted the lavish, silk curtains of the immense window and stepped onto the balcony, gripping the edge of the railing tightly as she observed the still night. "But won't your mother get mad?"

"She hasn't done anything more than yelling and crying, so I think I'm good. Besides, I rarely see her anymore. She's almost always cooking these days, preparing for Pan's big party."

She didn't seem to have even given recognition to the answer. Her big blue eyes instead widened in awe - and very unusually - profound appreciation as vast hazes of gold washed earthward from the star-heavy sky on this unusually silent night. "Look," she alerted him silently, still not locking eyes with him. "There're shooting stars out."

Goten didn't know what to say to that comment. Having lived with the wind and rain, the mountains and the sea for his entire life, he was quite accustomed to natural beauties such as shooting stars appearing, no matter how rarely they occurred. But Bra, although she had a wonderful view of some of these natural sights right outside her window, acted like she only saw shooting stars every blue moon. After a moment of hesitance, he joined her by the foot of the balcony, staring at them. "…You're right."

She nodded stiffly, still gazing up at the skies. "…You stayed all this time…in my room…with me?"

Goten blanched. "Uh, n-no, Bra…not like t-t-that-"

She smiled absently as she gazed up at the nearest celestial bodies, the golden haze of reflecting in her great turquoise orbs. "…I know you a lot more than you think I do. Frankly, I think you lack the required corruption to even think about trying that. Besides, why would I waste all this on you?"

It didn't take a genius to know that she was…teasing him. He grinned, accepting her attempt at not taking things seriously. "…Maybe you're right, Bra. But I don't think I'd want to be the one to waste all of 'that.'"

Her smile grew fondly at his comment but faded almost as quickly as it began; strangely enough, she found this opportunity as good as any to look him straight in the eye. "…Do you make wishes on stars?"

"…Why would I?"

She now avoided his inquisitive gaze, moving her direction back up to the darkened heavens in order to observe them better. "I used to do it all the time when I was younger. I still do it now…occasionally."

He gazed at her face, the radiant silver of the stars shining off of her skin, as she refused to make eye contact with him. "Well, didn't everyone use to wish on stars? I guess I stopped when I quit believing that the wishes would come true someday."

She still sought to avoid all eye contact as humanly possible. A silence accompanied the moment, but finally, she spoke again. "…But I still think my wishes could come true. I know it's a bit childish, but I can't help but think that maybe my dreams will come true someday if I show no wavering faith. But sometimes, it's hard. I can't help but ask myself, 'Why do they all seem so far from my reach?' They're like stars – they're beautiful things that one can see easily, but you can never touch them with your fingertips…or the deepest desires of your soul." A second later, she turned to stare at him, secure in the fact that he probably didn't comprehend any of this sudden, reflective talk. "Were you serious when you meant that you didn't leave me once?"

He'd been profoundly absorbed in what she had to tell him, but just as quickly as she had changed the subject he'd laughed again sheepishly, blushing. "Well, if you don't count the time I had to hide when your parents walked in, that is-"

"I mean, you actually stayed…to make sure I was okay?"

He shrugged – why did she keep bringing it up? "It's not such a big deal…"

She wasn't looking at him anymore; she didn't seem to care what he had to say in the topic any longer. Crossing her arms, she spoke instead to the skies. "Thanks, I guess. Well, you can leave now."

"But you're sure that you're okay?"

"You may leave now."

"But-"

"Please leave."

With that said, she retreated into her room, closed the shades, and didn't look back until she was sure his ki was far within the reaches of central West City. It was only then that she slowly turned from her spot and watched him go, her face reddening almost immediately as she recalled the fact that he'd been holding her hand not that long ago.

But she wasn't angry with him. Not at all. She knew that there had to be some animosity, some violent emotion that she just had to be feeling toward him bottled inside her, some secret pleasure to be felt whenever he was annoyed, but for some strange reason, it wasn't coming out. And she didn't mind it one bit. It was too stressful to constantly think of ways to make Son Goten unhappy.

And that was because he never was. There was some sort of infectious joy carried about in his face, his essence, his smile…

She decided right there and then that she liked Son Goten, although he didn't have anything meaningful to offer at times. He wasn't so bad after all, and it wasn't totally abominable and taboo to admire someone who was actually breathing, relishing, being life.

And what was more, she decided that she didn't mind liking him.

"It's funny. Things like this never happen to people like me…"

-Ending Note-: Please review. Unfortunately, updates will come at an even slower pace because I've decided to delve into writing other fics. The first chapter for my next story and the first chapter for a B/V angsty story will probably be posted before the next chapter of TST.

-The Next Chapter-: Pan's Party!

-Ladii-Chocolate-