a/n: Wow, what a tough crowd. A shout out to those who reviewed and followed and faved so far. You're all awesome and kind. Thank you!
disclaimer: I don't own anything. Writing disclaimers never failed to make me feel miserable.
Chapter II
A pinging sound interrupted the professor's lecture. There was a split-second pause, and then the whole class turned on her direction. Videl rolled her eyes, receiving the radio transmission from the SCPD with a click of her communicator. The update was brief, and Videl unceremoniously stood from her seat to give the old teacher a look. The man nodded, turning back to the whiteboard behind him as VIdel proceeded to half-run through the aisle of the classroom. Her classmates watched her as she went, still as unaccustomed and awed at her regular swift dismissal, regardless of the situation in the school, as if it hadn't been three years already since she started doing so.
Videl smirked at herself as she increased her pace, dashing towards the front lawn of the institution before throwing her dinocap ahead of her. It exploded in a cloud of smoke and she boarded her jetcopter without stopping. Half a minute and she's already in the air, navigating the vast expanse of the sky in the direction where the radio had indicated.
Although she hated the downsides of her father's fame and popularity, Videl couldn't hide the fact that she absolutely reveled at the privileges of being the World Savior's daughter. Like the top-of-the-line jetcopter she was using—the model wasn't even out on the market yet—and her special psuedocop badge that allowed her to help the police and beat up bad guys. Never mind the annoying paparazzi that shoved cameras on her face whenever they got the chance, the boring, unending number of formal parties and galas she had to attend to keep appearances, the gold-digging, superfluous vultures of society, and the creepy as hell stalkers.
Videl loved fighting; it was her whole life. Even before her father won the 24th World Martial Arts Tournament, she was already invested on it. It was only when Hercule was hailed as a Savior that she'd decided to really follow her father's footsteps. After all, despite his faults and idiosyncrasies, Hercule Satan was Videl's hero. She was proud to be his daughter.
There were times, however, when she resented it. She hated the fact that some people saw her worth as nothing more than that—Hercule Satan's daughter. She had to live in the shadow of her father's fame and achievements, never really seen as someone with her own accomplishments and individuality. She did love fighting, but she didn't want the tag of her father's name attached to her forever; she wanted to be remembered by everyone as her own person, too. When she won the very first Junior Division in the 25th WMAT three years ago, it opened a lot of doors for her. She was finally acknowledged as the strongest young adult in the world. It was also after that when she started assisting the police, gaining a reputation as Satan City's very own teenage crime fighter. She felt like she's finally getting somewhere.
Satan City was her home. It had been her home even before it was renamed after her father. The fact that she could alleviate the crime rates and minimize the casualties every time she went out was enough reason for her to risk her life. The popularity and gratitude of the city's residents was just a bonus.
When she landed her jetcopter, Lieutenant Foster, her immediate superior, was already approaching her. A couple of police cars were in front of a small boutique, the uniforms communicating with the two masked robbers taking refuge inside the structure. Videl scrunched her forehead, fighting the urge to scoff at the incompetence of the city's police force. It was no surprise that the very city of the World Savior was a nest of criminal activities when the law enforcers and so-called peacekeepers needed a teenage girl to do their jobs for them.
She slammed the door of her jetcopter close and it poof into smoke, reverting back to a capsule on her hand.
"What's the situation?" she asked.
"Videl," the lieutenant greeted, his face a mask of indifference. He didn't look happy to see her. "Why are you here? The transmission didn't request for your assistance, if I'm not mistaken. I told you countless of times not to appear in the field unless you were expected. How many times do we have to go through this?"
Videl scowled. The teenage girl had always had the distinct impression that the man had no love for her or her work, although the success rate of the department's operations had improved ever since she joined the force. Videl couldn't fathom why.
Lieutenant Foster was like her custodian in the department. Since she was just a psuedocop—a vigilante with a license, apparently—she had no real authority within the force. Some of the officers might respect her for being her father's daughter or her abilities as a martial artist, but beyond that, she was treated as more like an intern than an actual officer was. Although, she could waggle and blast her way through annoying procedures when she wanted with her father's influence, and she'd get away with anything short of murder. Lieutenant Foster, however, should be hailed as the stick-in-the-mud extraordinaire. The man had never let her have her way, stopping her every attempt to get more action on the field. What was the use of her communicator when she'd only get out a third of the times it reported crimes?
"Yes, why do we have to go through this every time?" the small girl argued, her hands fisting. "I can help! I can take those guys easy, no sweat!"
"I don't doubt your capabilities, young lady," he started, "but you can't just disregard protocols and rush to an operation whenever you want. You didn't have to come here. It's just an armed robbery. The men can handle it on their own."
"Look, sir, instead of lecturing me about stupid protocols and whatever regulations, I could've already ended this mess!" Videl stubbornly debated. She was about to say something more when the officer's hand radio buzzed with static.
Lieutenant Foster raised a hand to her face, effectively shutting her up, and then answered the radio, listened to his men on the other end of the line, and gave an order. Videl glanced at the commotion in the department store. His men followed his instructions to the letter; there was a bit of scuffle inside and a brief exchange of gunshots, and then it was over. The three officers who had conducted the arrest accompanied the two robbers out the store with handcuffs locked on their wrists while one of them recited the Miranda Rights.
This time, Videl didn't stop the unimpressed scoff that escaped her mouth.
"We'll talk about this later," Lieutenant Foster dismissively addressed her. "And I'm reporting your conduct to the Chief, Ms. Satan." The man squared his jaw. "I suggest you go back to your class. God knows you've missed enough lessons with your unauthorized escapades." Videl reminded herself that this person was her superior, so she can't punch him in the face for being a stiff chump.
The uniformed lieutenant gave her a stern look, before walking back to his vehicle and driving away. The man really hated her guts… What a douche. He succeeded one operation without her help and he's already smug. And what did he say? He'll report her back to the Chief?
Videl smirked. Good luck with that.
That little man was a sucker; he practically worshipped the path her father walked on. She was more than sure that someone will do get a mouthful from the Police Chief, and it won't be her.
She clicked her tongue, throwing her dinocap to rematerialize her jetcopter, again. She went all the way here for nothing; damn, she didn't even get to punch a face. What a waste of time.
.oOo.
Videl Satan had all but a couple of friends her entire life. Despite her status as a celebrity, she could only really tolerate two people with genuine appreciation and trust.
The cafeteria was a buzzle of activity, but when she entered, everyone seemed to blink and pause for a second. Videl ignored the rest of them for the two heads of bright blonde hair at their usual table, walking confidently in the middle of the large room towards her two friends. Erasa waved her over while Sharpener gave her his signature grin.
Erasa Rubba and Sharpener Pencil had been her friends even before the fame and popularity. Their childhoods had been spent together, and they'd stuck by her even when her life turned into a turmoil of glitters, conspiracy, and gossip. When they enrolled in OSH with each other three years ago, they instantly gained the center of attention.
Erasa was a beautiful girl even then; with her shiny blonde locks and bright blue eyes, she was already the darling of the crowd. The girl absolutely loved the spotlight, and she'd soaked it all in but never let it get to her head. Her popularity only multiplied when she gained her womanly curves, and she flaunted it shamelessly. People might peg her for a ditz, but Erasa was far from it. She was smarter than she appeared, and her reputation was a product of her own schemes. Underneath her innocent façade, seemingly sweet personality, and glamorous exterior, she was a cunning and manipulative witch. She was caring and affectionate, though, and it was her that anchored Videl to something akin to normalcy. Videl wouldn't want her any other way.
Sharpener, on the other hand, was like the brother she never had, and he'd settled on that role quite comfortably for the past years the three of them knew each other. Well, if brothers flirted with their sisters, anyway. He could be handsome, she supposed, his own fans club and his numerous affairs spoke truthfully of that fact, but Videl just couldn't see him that way. He was a social butterfly, and he could get along with anyone pleasantly as long as they didn't push his wrong buttons. Like Videl, Sharpener loved martial arts as well; after all, they actually first met each other in a dojo. He focused mainly on boxing nowadays; still, the stocky jock could give her a workout whenever they sparred in the ring.
"Hey, V," Erasa greeted her best friend when she'd finally seated herself on the chair across from her and Sharpner. "Back so soon, aren't you? Had a quick work with the baddies?"
"Oh, please," Videl said with a scowl. "Lieutenant Uptight got on my case again. Didn't even let me bust a face."
Erasa giggled.
"Poor pwincess," Sharpener teased. "I guess not everyone in this city is completely wrapped around your father's little finger."
Videl glared at him; Sharpener shrugged. He's probably one of the few who could get away with teasing her like that. Well, most of the time, anyway.
"Whatever," Videl said with a harrumph, glancing at the tray on her table. Erasa had already ordered for her, and the muck the cafeteria called food stared back from her platter. Most prestigious school in this side of the Earth and they served garbage. Tch. "So, what did I miss during class?"
"Nothing interesting, that's for sure," Erasa supplied.
"Yeah," Sharpener seconded. "Maybe except mountain boy showing off his ridiculous brain again," he added as an afterthought, discretely nodding in the direction of the far corner table where a lone student sat eating his own lunch.
Videl looked over her shoulder to follow Sharpener's gesture although she already knew of whom he was talking about, and as if he'd known their attention was on him, he glanced up and easily caught her eyes. Dark pools of obsidian held her gaze, the depths of it unfathomable. She felt like she might drown in the abyss if she stared too long so she looked away—equal parts relieved and disappointed.
Son Gohan, aloof and standoffish as always. The boy had kept to himself throughout the three years she'd known him, holding everyone on arm's length. He had never sucked up to Videl, didn't try to flirt with her, and he didn't even attempt to befriend her. He had enrolled in the middle of the semester during her freshman year, with perfect admission exam scores and the recommendation of her own father, no less. How the heck did he get that?
He appeared out of nowhere—from the middle of a desolate mountainous region if her facts were correct—three years ago in his ratty clothes and lanky form, standing in front of her class with generous praises from her professors. He was shorter then, even shorter than fifteen-year-old Videl if not for his spiky hair, so he was an easy target for bullying, never mind that the guy was so shy and lacked a backbone to speak of. It was only after this summer when his growth spurt hit hard, coming back with a foot added to his height in a little more than two months. He was always nice, at least, and maybe if it wasn't for her clique's meddling, he might've became one of the popular guys in school. Currently, he's known as the resident weird, eastern mountain nerd.
He didn't seem bothered that his social status in the school was ruined. The lonely aura that surrounded him just added to his mysterious character, if anything, he seemed to have become more detached and unapproachable.
"Stop being a jerk, Sharpie," Erasa scolded with a roll of her eyes. "You're just jealous 'cause mister tall, dark, and mysterious over there is smarter than you."
Sharpener flicked his long blonde hair from his shoulder. "Babe, you're supposed to be on my side. You're hurting my feelings here," the jock said, his mocking tone wounded. "Maybe he's smart, I'll give him that, but he got nothing on my guns," Sharpener bragged with an easy grin, flexing his bare arms on their faces.
"He's a better person, though, and cuter, too," Erasa defended, glossing her lips methodically. "Maybe we should befriend him. He'd turned into a hunk in one summer. I'd like to see how much he'd grown in other places, too."
"Erasa!" Videl reproached in embarrassment. The voluptuous blonde only gave her a sultry smirk.
Sharpener snorted at that. "E, stop patronizing the nerd just because you want to get in his pants now," he derided. "I bet Brains don't even like us; we've initiated the bullying three years ago."
"He's different now, though," Erasa reiterated. "I'm sure V agrees with me on this."
"Don't drag me in your silly conversation," Videl muttered, unknowingly tucking a loose hair behind her ear at the feeling of someone intently watching their table.
"See? I don't even know how you dragged me in this conversation," Sharpener said indignantly.
"Well, forgive me when you're hanging out with two beautiful ladies and you squeal sharper than a girl," Erasa reasoned, her eyebrow raised.
"That was one time, one time, I tell you!" Sharpener glowered. "I was a kid and my voice was starting to crack! Besides, it's a lady and a half; I'm hanging out with a lady and a half."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Videl growled.
"Exactly what it means, babe," Sharpener answered with a wink. "Not that I don't like a strong and tough girl—Owww!" the jock's sentence ended with a yowl of pain, his chair falling backwards when Videl kicked it from under the table. The poor guy was sadly ignored by the rest of the eating students in the cafeteria. It was a semi-regular occurrence, after all.
"Fine," Erasa said, rolling her blue eyes. "Let's just stop talking about the mysterious cutie to avoid more touchy subjects and casualties, and just talk about the upcoming event!"
"What event?" Videl asked.
"Duh, your father's special day, of course. Hercule Satan's Day? Celebrated every year in honor of your own father's heroic deeds? On the day of the Cell Games, which, I might add, is next month already?" the blonde girl said.
Videl's eyes considerably dimmed at the reminder. Damn, so it's that time of the year again, huh? She's going to have a very long month.
"We need to go shopping, like, ASAP," Erasa continued, now starting to polish her nails. "You'll need tons of gorgeous dresses, the salon—you badly need it, V, and your nails—OMG, I know just the place! I have it all planned out, so you don't have to worry."
Sharpener stood up from the floor, his arms raised above his head in a gesture of surrender. "That's it, I'm out of here. I've just hit the girl talk dose limit for the day."
Erasa watched him walk away with a coy smile.
.oOo.