Author's notes: So this one came fairly quick since the previous chapter was quite short.

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PIKACHU: Thanks for the review! Don't know what you mean about your father but it's nice to know you like it.

Black Seconds

Yamcha parked in the appointed place for visitors. At his left lay an indoor pool. The smell of chlorine infiltrated his nose and woke up mixed memories of his own time of going to school. The school existed out of several brown bricked buildings, but Trunks Vegeta Briefs was situated in the main building. The door of the class room was opened by a thin, gangly boy in jeans. Yamcha's uniform made him step back.

'Trunks Vegeta Briefs?' asked Yamcha.

The boy yelled something to the class. According to his face he was aware of what was going on, he knew about the bond between the Briefs' family and Marron's. A moment later Trunks appeared. His face paled slowly.

'I have to talk to you for a moment', said Yamcha. 'Let's go sit in the car. It will only last a couple of minutes.'

Trunks followed, dazed. He put his fists deep in his pockets and stepped, almost with distaste, in the car. His eyes glided over all the devices on the dashboard, he was startled. Yamcha turned down the window and lit a cigarette.

'Because your family is close to the Chestnuts,' he said. 'And because you live in the same neighbourhood. Moreover you are often away with your car.'

A lot of thoughts flitted through Trunks' head. He was the brother of Marron's best friend. But he now found himself thinking that the expression 'Brother of best friend' sounded suspicious, that such an affinity could be used against him.

'On the first of September you were also gone,' said Yamcha. 'You drove to the centre of town at around six o' clock in the evening.'

Pause. Trunks was forced to nod an affirmative. He had the feeling as if he was confessing.

'To visit an acquaintance?' asked Yamcha.

'Yes,' said Trunks.

'What's his name?'

Trunks didn't get why Yamcha would want to know that. But he could easily answer that. It wasn't a secret after all. Still, he was surprised at what they all wanted to know.

'His name's Goten,' Trunks finally said. 'Goten Son.'

'Right,' said Yamcha. He grabbed a note pad and scribbled down the name.

'Would you describe yourself as perceptive?' he asked.

'I don't know,' Trunks mumbled. He stared at a point on the dashboard, about the place where the airbag was situated. He wanted to have one right now. A big pillow that covered his whole face.

'If I ask you what you have seen during that ride, what can you remember?'

Trunks searched his memory, but stayed silent.

'Everybody who was around that area on the first of September has been asked to report himself. Everyhting is important, especially sightings of motorists. We didn't hear anything from you.'

'I haven't seen anything,' Trunks said simply. 'I didn't have anything to report.'

'So you didn't pass any cars?' asked Yamcha.

'It was very quiet on the road,' Trunks said. 'I'm sure I may have passed some car, but don't ask me any types. I was playing music,' he said.

'What were you playing?' Yamcha asked, interested.

'Gee, several,' he said. 'Lou Reed. Eminem.'

'Alright', Yamcha nodded. Even this he wrote down.

Again a pause. This one lasted longer. Trunks became nervous of the quiet.

'Why did you drag me out of class?'

'I didn't drag you,' said Yamcha. 'You came voluntarily.'

He started another subject.

'You had had an accident that day with the car? Did that happen in Capsiglass?'

Trunks studied his own filthy sports shoes on the bottom of the car.

'No, in the town. It sucked real hard,' he said, angry. 'I was driving on a roundabout. Some idiot cut me of, and I was pushed to the side and my right fender made contact with the guardrail. The worst thing is that he just drove away. Didn't even stop.'

'Which roundabout?' aksed Yamcha.

'Which?' Trunks breathed deep. 'The one near the bridge of the centre. In the centre.'

'Is there a guardrail?'

'Yes. It follows the river.'

Yamcha thought about it, in order to remember the right roundabout. Then he nodded.

'Yes, that's true. Did you come from the centre or were you on the other side?'

'I was driving in the direction of the centre.'

'So we're talking about the part of the guardrail in the turn toward the birdge?'

'Yes.'

'Was there a lot of traffic on the roundabout?'

'Some.'

'Witnesses?'

'Witnesses?' Trunks asked unsure. 'There were some cars. But I don't know how much they saw. It was dark,' he explained.

'And the fender? A lot of damage?'

Trunks nodded. 'Yeah. The dim light is broken. But the dent is the worst.'

'By what kind of car where you cut of?'

'Didn't see that. He was large and dark. Looked kind of new.'

'And it happened in the evening, you said?'

'Yes,' said Trunks.

'What did you do after the accident? Your mother said you only came home very late. Around one am?'

'I went back to Yajirobe,' Trunks said.

Yamcha stayed quiet and tried to put the information in order. The note pad helped him. On the sheet before him stood: Goten Son.

'Back to Yajirobe?' he asked aloud. 'I thought you went to visit Goten?'

'Yes, yes,' Trunks said. He was confused. 'I was wrong.'

'Is that the Yajirobe who's helping you to repair your car?'

They talk to each other, Trunks thought, they note it down and report. Nothing leaves their attention.

'And the car that was driving unresponsibly, so that he damaged your car?' asked Yamcha. 'Do you want to charge him?'

'I already said that he drove on,' mumbled Trunks, irritated.

'Alright. What were you going to do on the highway?' Yamcha asked patiently.

Trunks hesitated. 'Nothing,' he admitted. 'I just like to drive. On the highway. Then I can just open him up completely.'

'Yes, alright,' Yamcha nodded, understanding. 'Now, about something else,' he said. 'The bike of Marron. Do you know what kind of bike it is?'

'I have no idea.'

'You probably don't hang around with her often, she's only ten after all. I understand. But she visited your house a lot. And the colour? Do you remember that?'

'I believe he's yellow.'

'That's right.'

'But I know that from the papers,' Trunks said. 'They're always talking about that yellow bike.'

'And you didn't see her on the first of September?'

'Then I would have reported that,' Trunks said.

'Yes, you would have reported that, wouldn't you?'

'Off course!' Trunks became agitated. It was very cramped in the car, he felt himself being pushed in the proverbial corner.

'How long have you know Yajirobe Sandwell?' asked Yamcha.

'A while,' he said. 'Why do you interrogate me like this?'

'Do you find this annoying?' Yamcha queried, while he kept the gaze of Trunks.

'Yajirobe has nothing to do with this,' Trunks said evasively.

'With this?' Yamcha asked innocently. 'You mean Marron's disappearance?'

'Yes. And we don't hang with each other very often. He's only helping me with my car.'

Yamcha threw the stub of his cigarette out of the window. Then he nodded toward the school building. 'Do you like it here?'

Trunks made a face. 'It goes. I'm done next spring.'

'What kind of plans do you have after this?'

'You're even worse than my mother,' Trunks said with chargin. 'I don't have any plans. Maybe get a job,' he said. 'Most of all in a records store. Or a video library.'

'The searching for Marron will continue,' said Yamcha. 'Are you going to participate, you think?'

Trunks turned away and looked out of the window. 'If my mother asks me,' he said. 'But I don't really want to.'

'A lot of people think a search party is exciting,' Yamcha said.

'I don't,' Trunks answered.

Author's notes: So now, about the results of the poll. So far, Black Seconds is in the clear (though it doesn't have the highest votes). But everything could change. The poll will last to the end of January. Then I will post on evey story which one will be finished first and which one will be temporarily put on hiatus.

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