AN: Not only have we hit 200k words but this fanfic is now three years old. I haven't thought of much to celebrate. Perhaps I'll have a contest? If you're interested, submit fanart of a scene you want to see most or your favorite to thenextdimensionover at tumblr. Of the former category the one I like the most will make it (somehow, some way) into the story, while the runner up will get a one-shot about it. Of the latter...basically the same thing, except it'll be whatever request instead of re-creating an already written scene. Does that sound good, or should I do a different thing?
Note that if you wanna do that (or submit anything TNDO related) it needs to be through Tumblr. FFnet isn't for contests or showcasing cool things.
The Next Dimension Over
Chapter Eighty-Eight
"No. No. No! I absolutely refuse to accept it's you!"
The damn phantom laughed right in his face. Which, considering the last time she'd punched him in the face...was a step above previous experiences.
It did not make him feel remotely better.
The woman tilted her head to the side, purple hair bouncing slightly as she planted her hand on her hip. Somehow every little thing about her - even the most minute and innocuous thing - just seemed to piss him off more. Maybe the punch to the face and the kick to other places from their last meeting had something to do with that.
Maybe she was just the infuriating kind of person that any normal person just had the urge to punch in the face? Coulda been that. A little.
"Wow. You know what, Pretty Boy? I'd almost forgotten about you entirely." She laughed, eyes crinkling up so much he briefly hoped they'd just disappear entirely and forget about her like he wanted to. "Mm, well, I guess I'll consider it flattering you remembered. And fortunate you survived, considering the way that base went up not long after I left. Guess it means you got smart and got out, too?"
"No." Well-wait. Not the smart thing, the-
He refused to get drawn into this woman's game again. He's lived with an actual psychopath of a woman now, alongside living with Bulma and Sakura. He'd definitely wrestled the particular anxiety she represented into complete submission.
"Normally with such a lingering impression I'd expect you to be a lovesick little puppy, but..." She turned her gaze over his shoulder, to the blue haired woman (fortunately quiet still) standing behind him. "It looks like you've got yourself a replacement girlfriend."
He sputtered and coughed a moment, caught off-guard by the ridiculous leap of reasoni-girlfriend?! That woman? What kind of death-seeker would even try?
"Oh, no!" Launch squeaked from behind him, cheerful and helpful as ever. "We live toge-"
"Stop talking!" Admittedly, he felt a little bad for startling the girl behind him...and not just because that sometimes caused her to sneeze. No matter how terrifying her alter ego could be, this half of her really was a nice, helpful woman. She simply couldn't know how evil the purple one before them was.
Who looked at him in an altogether too satisfied way. "Ooh, he's gotten more dominant. I like it. Though, usually I'm the one barking orders. When it comes to that."
...No. No, she was derailing him again, and he refused to allow it.
"Look, I don't have time for this. Get out of my way or I'll seriously move you myself this time."
Her lips quirk into a short smirk again before she responds. "Mmh. As fun as it'd be to see you try, are you sure that's what you want? It'll be hard to get you that dragonball you're looking for if I'm not here to retrieve it for you."
Just when did this woman figure out what they were doing out here, and how? It...no, it really didn't matter. If she thought she could make a lucky guess and get in on his private circle of trust when he'd literally watched her loot and desert her previous allies, she'd clearly gotten a skewed view of him.
"Dragonwhat? Look, lady, I don't know what you're-"
"Oh!" Launch chirped up again, completely ignoring what he'd just told her. "Dragonball! We're looking for a dragonball! Just like you said!"
(*)
"...Me." When before his smile didn't hold any amusement - or true emotion - at all, now some sort of sneering amusement did seem to creep into his expression as he tilted his head to examine her closer from where he sat. "Sorry, if you expect me to know who you are, you're going to need to jog my memory a bit."
Jog his memory? Oh, she'd sure as hell do more than jog it. Of course, there's no reason he'd remember her at all. Tienshenhan fought a woman who was long dead and looked nothing like the one standing in front of him.
But her? She could use the stress relief of a rematch. Especially one where she didn't need to worry about rings and holding back.
She crossed the distance of the room in a breath. One of her gloved hands clasped over his throat and neck, forcing his chin up slightly, and her other fist slammed into the wall beside his head. Knees pressed into the wooden bench on either side of one of his legs to keep him from escape - and threaten a very effective attack if he tried to knock her away to escape. Finally, she leaned close enough that her angry hiss could be an attack itself, breath splashing against his face like a whip, a warning of the beating she'd unleash on him if she had even an inkling more provocation.
"You. Don't say. Another word."
Up close, the cruel smile on his face looked just a touch feral. Feral, and that much more insufferable. Utterly confident and at ease despite how close she was to ripping his throat out from his body and forcing it through another cavity of his.
Yet, as if he were humoring her, he remained silent. His eyes sparkled with challenge, and her fingers dug into his skin just that much more.
One of his hands clasped over her wrist.
"You looked better blonde." The grip on her wrist tightened slightly, fingers digging into soft flesh just a bit too much. Nothing followed after, however. Perhaps he didn't want to destroy his house the way he destroyed the ring. She was still debating whether or not to do it herself.
Regardless...he seemed to recognize her identity quite readily somehow. She found that odd, given it couldn't be because he didn't often make enemies.
"You looked better in the ground."
He scoffed, tilting his head slightly as he looked up at her. "If you wanted a rematch so badly, you should have won the tournament. Someone who's afraid to be the champion doesn't interest me."
...Definitely, definitely leaning toward breaking his house like the ring. The only trouble was that in doing so she might accidentally bury the dragonball in the rubble. And that demon king was...just slightly, higher priority than her cocky opponent.
Even if he was...
Even if he'd made strong contributions to Krillin's death.
...If time weren't so tight...
She grit her teeth and tightened her grip on his neck. Just a touch, a response to his own threatening hold, and then stepped away from him, yanking her hand away from his. It was that or escalate to homicide, and then she'd just be wasting her time. Aside from self-satisfaction, anyway.
"Look, I don't have time to trade barbs or punches. If you don't already know where the dragonball is, I've got other things to do."
He arched a slim brow. "The dragon's what?"
...So.
No, then.
Before she could respond or even turn to leave, another voice spoke from the door. "Invading a man's house and demanding his property is robbery, you know." The voice was...old. Unfamiliar.
She frowned and turned her gaze from the man still sitting on the bench to the doorway. Through the steam and the glare if the light outside...she couldn't make out anything about him except that he was physically as unfamiliar to her as his voice.
"Master, you've returned early." The voice behind her identified the figure before her. And didn't describe them in any helpful manner. Expecting that one to be helpful though, might as well be expecting that demon lord to lay down and die on his own.
"Have you become so lax-?"
"You know where the dragonball is?" She didn't have time to wait for some vaguely sinister exchange between Tienshinhan and whoever might have intentionally taught him to be such scum. The idea of leveling the place and looking through the rubble for the dragonball sounded almost tempting enough to do it. But if the plane were damaged somehow in the process, there'd be no way to get back to the others in any kind of timely manner.
The figure came closer, breaking through the fog. Old. Short. Ridiculous crane hat. Actually...it did seem like she'd seen him before? Had she noticed him at the tournament at some point? "I'm afraid there's only one sort of gift reserved for unwelcome guests here."
Like lightning, the guise of old and wisened man shed, frail form lancing forward from his slightly hunched posture, leaping through the air with as great speed as Tienshinhan had shown in the tournament. One hand clawed, lifted above him as he flew in for a strike.
Finally.
Steam exploded outward, crashing against the walls of the sauna almost audibly, rushing through the open doorway in the distance with enough force to make a sound like crashing, rather than howl. Perhaps if she hadn't known the turtle hermit at work she might have found the strength and speed shown by this old man a surprise. As it stood...
It was a gift.
"Thank. You."
(*)
Unfortunately, the second dragonball wasn't quite as easy as picking a random tree and climbing it. Although he did have to give Goku the credit of checking quite a few without any visible damper in his enthusiasm. If they were going to handle the Demon King Piccolo, then they'd all need so much determination.
Well, unless everything just continued to sail along as smoothly as it had so far.
He'd only been around for...eh...a century? Or so? He'd settle on a cool 111. At least for a while.
Anyway, that was plenty of time for life to throw some unexpected twists and turns at him. Like a perfect run, easy dragonballs, easy demon vanquishing, maybe even a few easy women.
No, no. A few easy women?! Was he going senile already? If it's perfect, he'd need to expect at least-
"Master Roshi!" Goku suddenly spoke up from beside him, interrupting that train of thought. "Do you smell that?!"
"Ehh-?" Before he could ask - because, no, not really - the small boy sprinted on ahead. He frowned a moment, sniffing at the air again. "...Do they have a smell?"
They weren't actually...they didn't smell like dragons, right? No, he'd been around a few and there definitely wasn't anything suspicious about them other than the eerie glow. Clearly, it was something else. He sighed, stretching a little to uncramp his back, and sprinted after his most rambunctious student.
Whatever it was that Goku smelt, he didn't seem interested in elaborating on it. Probably because the kid still seemed to think everyone could smell the same way he could unless it was directly pointed out otherwise. Branches whipped by his face, a twig or two nearly managing to slice his head like the worst combination of a splinter and a paper cut, before the trees broke open at a cliff side. Which Goku immediately leapt from.
Eh. At least it wasn't a tall cliff. He could probably make the same if he wanted to show off. And from the vantage point it afforded him, he could clearly see now what lured Goku.
In retrospect...maybe he was getting a bit senile after all. Of course it would be grilled fish, not dragonballs. He shrugged as the kid zoomed up directly to the lone fish carcass perched on a stick over an unattended fire. If luck held out, maybe the person who cooked it might have an idea where the next ball was.
"...I should probably keep him from eating that fish."
AN: Can you believe this guy went and pre-empted literal heated hate sex?
Crazy.