“Goten?” I called into the emptiness of the living room, wondering if my uncle had awakened yet. If he didn’t, I just planned on letting him sleep. He wouldn’t wake up, anyway, no matter how loud I yelled.
Besides, I had a lot of thinking to do—thinking that didn’t need Goten’s guidance. I was perfectly capable of handling this myself…I could do it…I could. But I didn’t want to. I wanted someone to help me, maybe take the fall for me. Protect me from the evilness that was obviously coming my way.
I unintentionally dropped the keys into the pile of splinters that used to be my end table. I’d become accustomed to putting my keys there, so I guess it was just a force of habit bit. But they just landed on carpet, strewn among fragments of wood. Peachy, just great. What a wonderful day today was turning out to be.
I sighed in frustration, sinking down onto the couch and raking my fingers through my still-damp hair. How could this possibly be healthy? Too much stress and worrying was being processed in this…this…thing. Situation, relationship, whatever the hell it was. What I needed was music—loud music. But Goten was asleep. My yelling might not be able to wake him, but music definitely could. And, as Bra had said, he probably didn’t sleep much the night before. I preferred not to think of why.
Trunks, in this strange twist of events, was using me. How, I didn’t know. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. No, I didn’t want to know. I only wanted to kiss him again. What was so bad about that?
Yes, Pan, you are completely hopeless, I chided myself. This wasn’t the way things were supposed to turn out. I was supposed to be the heartbreaker here. Thinking back, I remembered a thousand ways I could crush him running through my mind in the middle of the night…but now, I couldn’t come up with even one. All I could think of was ways to deflect the bad news that would try to ruin my life.
No, not my whole life—only my week, possibly a month. I couldn’t be all too traumatized by this. I’d lived this long without him; I didn’t need him.
Yes, I did.
I cursed myself for my weakness.
The rain was over now, subsiding and letting the sun peek through the clouds. Maybe that was the little boost of hope that I needed; maybe it wasn’t. I preferred to believe it was. Maybe, if it was sunny, I could take the bad news and become more cheerful about it, become more positive, and maybe I wouldn’t be as heartbroken as I felt at the moment.
Only then, I realized how much this was going to hurt me…how much it already had. I was aching inside, starting to feel guilty all the same, even though I knew I was innocent. But maybe I wasn’t; I might have been just as cruel as everyone else without even knowing it. They didn’t know they were doing evil until I became upset. They didn’t know I was unhappy with it. Maybe I’d committed a similar crime.
“Pan, you can’t be doing this to yourself,” I murmured, shaking my head distastefully. I couldn’t dwell on this. I had to let it go. I had to.
But I couldn’t. I didn’t want to.
I could live without him. I could. There were plenty of other men in the world. Why did I have to get so hung up on the one that I knew I’d never have? Sure, I was in love with him, and he was in love with me…but he’d said he was using me. How could he do something like that to me? How could he openly admit it, then refuse to explain?
No, he said he would explain. I should have kept him in the car…should have forced him to explain himself. It would be killing me until I found out. I loved him. I wanted to be with him…him, not one of the millions of other men in the world. I was in love with Trunks Briefs. Along with another three quarters of the world.
But what could I tell him? I love you, but I can’t ever see you again because you’re about to hurt me? How was that supposed to work?
What I should do is call my father. Yes, Dad would have the answer. The phone was in the bedroom; Goten was asleep in the bedroom. There was another phone in the kitchen. I’d just use that one.
My kitchen was clean again. Thank the lord. My father finally cleaned it for me, I was in the clear. All I had to do now was not host another huge luncheon for a while. I dialed the number quickly, whispering it to myself as I did. It rang once before my father snatched it up. “Hello?”
“Daddy, I’m distressed,” I wailed.
“Panny, what’s wrong?” he asked, his voice full of worry and contempt toward Trunks.
“Daddy, I’m in love and I think there’s nothing I can do now…I think I lost him.”
“Panny…” My father is psychic, I swear he is. “Does this have something to do with Trunks? He hurt you, didn’t he?”
“Not yet, but he will,” I sniffled. “He said he’s using me…but he didn’t get to tell me how…and Bra told me he’d be using me and I didn’t want to listen ’cause I’m stupid like that. I’m obsessed, Dad, I think I am.”
“Calm down, now, you’re not obsessed. What do you want? Want me to kill him for you?”
“I don’t know, Dad,” I said softly, casting my eyes to the ground. He sounded eager to murder him. “I don’t want you to hurt him, though…so please don’t. I only want to know your view on this. What should I do?”
“I think you should let me kill him!” he said hotly. I could practically see how red his face was.
“No, Dad,” I pleaded, beginning to pace again. I had a habit of pacing while on the phone. “Nonviolent solutions, please.”
He sighed. There was a long silence, during which I started chewing on the phone cord. Most of the phones in my house were cordless, but the one in the kitchen wasn’t. I hardly ever used it; I didn’t think I’d need a cordless. But here I was, chewing off the cord again. I only went through one cord…and that was when Bra called, panicked, thinking she was pregnant. But I was seventeen at the time…I thought I’d outgrown it. I stopped pacing and halted in front of the refrigerator, trying to find something else to chew on.
“You could wait for his explanation,” he said finally. “Mom suggested that one.”
“I don’t want to wait for his explanation,” I protested. “I want to tell him exactly how I feel and exactly how much I love him…how I…” I trailed off, deciding that my father didn’t want to hear this from me about Trunks.
“Go ahead,” he said quietly. I was shocked. “I want to know what you’re going to tell him.”
I lost my voice for a moment. Son Gohan, asking me to tell him how I felt for Trunks!? “Dad, are you okay?”
He laughed. “Of course, I’m fine. Now, anyway, go on.”
“I’m gonna tell him that I love him,” I began, now twisting the phone cord around my fingers. “That I’ve always loved him, and that I wouldn’t trade…our spectacular four days together for anything. I’d thank him a million times for taking care of me on Friday; I was a mess, I hadn’t slept at all, and he didn’t have to do that for me. I would tell him that I was hurt by what he did…and that if he could make it better for me, then by all means…that would be wonderful. But he’s not a miracle worker. I was so stressed over this, and he didn’t have a clue why. But when he did find out, he didn’t make it better right away. Instead, he played into it…just like I was,” I realized, falling silent. I knew we were out to hurt him, and yet I didn’t do anything to cure it. I just sat around and waited for the moment to come…in the meantime, falling hopelessly in love with the man I was supposed to tear apart. I lost. I lost the game…I lost my dignity, my focus…lost everything…
“Panny!” My father’s voice drew me out of my guilt-trip. “This isn’t your fault. It wasn’t any one person’s fault. You’re not cursed or doomed or anything like that just because you fell in love. It happens to the best of us. The only thing you have to regret is not being honest in the beginning.”
“I know,” I mumbled. “But did you just tell me it was okay that I fell in love?”
“Yes.”
I nearly died. This couldn’t be my father talking.
“In fact, I’m kind of proud of you.”
“Dad!?” This wasn’t my father. There’s no way. He couldn’t possibly be proud of me. He hated the thought of me and Trunks together. How did this happen?
“No, let me explain myself,” he laughed. “You didn’t just jump into it. You tried, at least a little bit, to prevent this from happening. But it caught you anyway. So I’m proud.” I didn’t understand a word he said. “But right now, I have to go. Remember, before you go breaking people’s hearts, make sure you know the whole story behind it.”
“Yeah…bye…”
“Bye, Panny.”
“Hey Dad?”
“Hmm?”
I smiled to myself, knowing full well what his reaction to this would be. “Say, if all this does work out, would you be willing to…y’know, walk me down the aisle and everything?”
“Aahhhh…um, I don’t want to get your hopes up. I might not be so happy about this if you end up…eehhh, I don’t want to talk about it. Goodbye, Pan.”
I smiled again. “Bye, Dad.”
I hung up the phone and sighed. I needed a nap or something—but Goten was in my bed. I seemed to have a problem with giving up my places to sleep to various men, whether or not I had any desire to sleep there with them. In Trunks’ case…I couldn’t kid myself. Of course I wanted to be there; I was completely in love with him, no doubts in my mind. Now I had plenty of doubts, though…valid doubts.
“I sorta was.” That was what he said. He “sorta” was using me. For what? I might be able to forgive him, if it was something small. But he was capable of a lot worse, I knew. I’d seen him break hearts and everything in the past. Now it was my turn. I remembered laughing at all those fools who couldn’t see their doom coming. My turn.
I wanted to talk to Vegeta again. He had this way of knowing everything about everyone before they openly admitted it. I remembered my father telling me about all sorts of instances where Vegeta knew things before sometimes even the people he knew them about did.
No, what I wanted was to talk to Trunks. But I couldn’t very well do that when he was nowhere to be found. In reality, I hadn’t even begun to look for him. But he said he had something to do for his company…and I couldn’t sense him; he was masking his ki. Perfect. I was doomed never to speak to him again.
I’d speak to him…just not right at that second. I’d have to wait. I guess it was one of those “don’t call us, we’ll call you” deals—I couldn’t contact him; he was supposed to find me when he wanted to talk to me. Meaning he could actually sit at home forever and make up a story to claim him innocent.
If that’s what he’s doing, I’ll kill him myself, I growled silently, though I knew it was untrue. I was too in love with him to kill him. Hopelessly devoted to a worthless cause…unless he miraculously did love me, and what he was doing wasn’t real…well, wasn’t a good reason. Maybe he was using me to get out of work for an hour every day.
Yeah, that was probably it. Lunch hour. He only wanted to get out for lunch…
No, stupid, that’s wrong. I sighed helplessly. I had no idea; there was no way to find out until he found me. What was I going to do in the meantime? I couldn’t eat—I about killed myself already with all this food poisoning I’d been doing. Who knew cereal could be so dangerous?
I could go online. Or I could practice my speech to him—write it out, maybe. Or I could go shopping.
Not shopping. I didn’t much feel like shopping right then. But my end table was destroyed, and I’d have to get a new one sometime. Might as well get it now.
I snatched up my purse and keys from the ground and left again. It wasn’t raining anymore, to my luck, but it still looked dreary. I kept the top of the convertible up, just to be safe.
I left the apartment building and crossed the parking lot to get to my car. I missed it while it was at Capsule; I was glad to have it back. The interior was still a bit damp from the earlier incident, but I could adjust. I flared my ki enough to dry it within a few moments as I drove to the furniture store. I forgot what it was called, but they supposedly had “the best prices in town” and junk like that. So I went. It took me a while to find it; I’d never been there before.
“Mo Allen’s Super-Clearance Warehouse?” I read the title cynically aloud, lifting a curious eyebrow as I pulled into the parking lot. “This Mo Allen guy’s pretty creative.”
As it turned out, Mo didn’t only sell furniture. He sold appliances and electronics and office supplies and plywood, too. I could save, save, save if I shopped here. There were huge, cheesy adds plastered everywhere. The stupidity of it all forced me to momentarily forget my situation and just laugh.
“Hi!” came an unusually cheerful voice from behind me. I started, gasping slightly as two men whirled into my view. Both were wearing the red-and-yellow “Mo Allen’s” employee uniforms. “I’m Mike!”
“And I’m Brad!” the second one said, flashing a huge smile and showing me his name tag.
“Um…hi,” I said uneasily. These people were scaring me.
“We work here!” they said in unison, striking identical, mirrored poses.
Now they were really scaring me. “That’s great,” I said slowly, backing away. “I have some stuff to buy, so I think I’ll get going…”
“Wait!” Mike cried.
“We have to sell something to you!” Brad pleaded.
“Our jobs depend on it!” they put together, simultaneously dropping to their knees and taking each of my hands.
I yanked my hands away from them. “Fine! You can sell me something, just quit acting so weird!”
“Okay!” they shouted in unison, standing back up and grinning. They reminded me horribly of Goten and Trunks when they were younger, always teaming up to bother some poor, innocent woman. I had a feeling that this was the same motive, but I played along.
“I need an end table,” I said seriously. “It has to match cream well, meaning I don’t want the wood tinted green.”
Mike and Brad exchanged a glance. “Hold on one moment,” Brad said, then pulled Mike aside for a private council.
I thought about eavesdropping, but I thought it would be best to just let them have their privacy. My hearing could have picked it up for sure…but it would have been rude of me.
“We’ve got just the thing for you,” Mike said, in a normal human voice.
“This way,” Brad added, showing me through some aisles.
I shrugged and followed them. They took me through countless departments until we finally reached what I was looking for. Mike pointed to a small, glass table and grinned triumphantly.
“Glass matches anything,” he said happily.
I couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” I commented. “I’ll take it.”
“That’s good,” Brad breathed. “For you, it’s free.”
I stopped fishing through my purse and glanced up. “Excuse me?”
“It’s free,” he repeated. “What, I’m not allowed to give away free stuff?”
“No, you are,” I said heatedly, “but not to me. I’d like to pay for it, please.”
I knew the way this worked. They give you something on discount/for free, then they later meet you in a restaurant or something and say, “Hey, you owe me dinner—I gave you that for free.”
Brad frowned. “Okay, if you really want to.”
“By the way, are you busy tomorrow night?” Mike put in.
I knew it. Typical Trunks and Goten action. “Yeah, I am,” I said seriously, even though I honestly had no idea. “I’ll be at home getting laid by my husband.”
They both paled. Yes, another wonderfully boldfaced lie. They just took the table to the front for me, charged me, and sent me on my way.
I drove home slowly, thinking. I nearly missed the turn into my apartment’s parking lot due to heavy thought. But I got there, took the end table and pretended it was heavy, and trudged up the stairs. Somewhat tired and annoyed, I reentered my apartment for what felt like the hundredth time that day.
“Goten?” I gasped, shocked to see him awake and cleaning my living room upon my return.
“Oh, hi Pan,” he said, barely looking up. He was piling the splinters into a nice, neat ring in the center of a newspaper. “I thought this might be good for you and…oh, you got a table!”
“Yeah, I did,” I confirmed, putting it down beside the couch, in a small area that Goten had already cleaned. “I also dumped some ‘Mo Allen’s’ salespeople.”
“Congratulations,” he said dryly, refocusing on his task.
I was silent for a few moments. “Goten, what do you think about me and Trunks?” I asked after a while.
“Oh, I don’t know,” he said simply, stopping his cleaning for a second to look me in the eyes. “If you love him and he loves you, then I guess you’re good together. Did he propose to you or something?”
“No,” I said, somewhat surprised that he’d ask that. “He said he’s using me—only I didn’t get to hear how.”
“Why would he tell you that? I’ve never known Trunks to tell a girl that.”
I shrugged, also mystified. “I guess he’s changed. When, I don’t know.”
“Marron,” Goten said instantly. “Marron hurt him. He knows what it’s like now—he’s different now.” I was surprised that Goten picked up on that faster than I did. He caught this and smiled guiltily. “Okay, maybe Bra told me that. So what? I still knew before you.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Cheater. You can’t do that, you have to figure it out for yourself.” I switched my tone back to a serious one. “I’m in love with him, Goten. I think he’s going to hurt me…and I’m scared.”
He studied me carefully, looking over my expression to see how serious I was. “You’re hopeless?”
“Yes. Completely hopeless. I can’t imagine myself with anyone else. I want him, and I want him forever. But I think he won’t reciprocate—I think I’m going to be hurt. Badly.”
“First of all, don’t tell yourself that,” he said disapprovingly. “I told myself that Marron would never love me, and she does. So you can’t go doubting things that seem impossible. I told myself that I’d probably break up with Marron within the first week—wrong again. We’re still together. You keep telling yourself you’re going to be crushed. Well, this is just a theory, but I think you’re wrong, too. Next off, don’t treat it like it’s the end of the world. If he hurts you, you can find someone else—someone twice as good, if not better.”
“No, I can’t,” I interrupted sadly. “I told you, I fell for him an no one else. I’m going to spend the rest of my life wishing I hadn’t said what I said…whatever it will be, because I know…” I trailed off, smiling faintly at the glare he was shooting at me. Sarcasm flooded my tone. “Because we’ll be together forever and he’ll never, ever hurt me in any way.”
“That’s more like it!” he cheered saucily. “Now, don’t you feel better?”
“Yes, of course, Uncle Goten. You’ve wiped all the pain away. Now finish cleaning my house.”
“Yess’m,” he said quickly, returning to his splinter collecting.
I snickered and got up, leaving him in the living room. I had a trip down memory lane waiting for me, and now was the time to take it. Now that I needed emotional support. I made my way to the guest room, my memory room, trying to think of something reassuring to reminisce about. But nothing came to me. I could only think of watching Trunks break up with some girl…any girl, they were all the same.
He would tell her that he’s sorry, but he thinks she can do better and he doesn’t deserve someone so exquisite. She would tell him, no, she loved him and she wanted to be with him. He’d come up with another reason that she was too good for him. She would argue again. If all else failed, he’d go to the truth, telling her either that he was actually cheating on her and he thinks she shouldn’t be tied to someone so unfaithful, or that he didn’t love her anymore and to get the hell out of his face. I’d seen it all too many times.
This memory room thing was a bad idea. I should have gone to sleep or something. I glanced at the clock, noting the time. Two PM. It was getting fairly late, and Goten was probably hungry. I thought it best to cook something for him—anything. He’d eat virtually anything.
“Goten?” I called back out to the living room. I got a muffled response. “You hungry?”
“Yes!!” That time he spoke quite clearly, and he was at the guestroom door within three seconds. “I’ll take it, I’ll take it! I’ll clean if you cook really fast.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at him. “I’m not eating. I don’t care how much you clean. But I’ll be nice, because you are my fellow victim here.”
“Yes, Victim’s Alliance of the Used. We’re in this together. Cook.”
I chuckled softly and pushed past him, making my way over to the kitchen. What to cook, what to cook? I didn’t have all that much food left here—and I definitely didn’t feel like going to the supermarket anytime soon. I’d starve before I went back there. Consequently, my poor uncle didn’t get much for lunch, and a late lunch, at that. I was so neglectful…
* * * * *
Goten told me stupid story after stupid story while I was cooking and he was eating. I made him every last bit of food I owned. He even ate all my cereal.
He told me about the time, while I was away, that he and Trunks tried to call me. He said they ended up getting the wrong number—but they got a “free” tarot card reading instead. They were later charged around six hundred dollars because they used up all their “free” time and stayed on the phone for about two hours. He said that the woman told him he was going to meet a long-lost relative or friend and that they were going to change his life forever. I asked him if that meant me, and he said, “No, you’re not lost. You’re right here. I don’t have any long-lost relatives or friends.”
Whatever. I still thought I was the long-lost relative.
Then he told me that she said his friends were going to turn on him and hurt him, and to remember to keep only those who are true to their word close to him. I asked him if that meant us, in this situation. And he said, “No way. I wasn’t hurt, you were.” But I thought he was my fellow victim…? He told me that he wasn’t the real target so it didn’t count. And besides, it had happened years ago. They got the area code for my college wrong and ended up using a 1-800 number instead. So it couldn’t possibly be right.
We talked into the late afternoon—he did a nice job of comforting me. Though I was still stressed and unhappy and tense, I wasn’t quite so fearful…and I was a lot more relaxed.
Goten scratched his head. “Did I ever tell you about the time me and Bra and Marron—”
He was cut off by the buzzing of the doorbell. I frowned, turning to glare at whoever happened to be on the other side.
“That would be for me,” he said meekly. “I got pizza…hope you don’t mind.”
“Oh,” I sighed. “That’s good. I thought…well, I don’t know what I thought. Just high-strung, I guess.”
“That’s probably it, you pansy,” he chuckled, getting up to retrieve his pizza.
“I’m not a pansy! Hey, when did you order pizza? I just cooked you everything I own five hours ago! I hope you’re not planning on me paying for this!”
“I’m not,” he growled, glaring at me as he opened the door. He turned back and yelped, jumping away from the door. “Where’s my pizza, you bastard!?”
“Goten!” I shouted disapprovingly, craning my neck in the direction of the entryway. I couldn’t see the outside, but I saw Goten’s shocked and angry expression at the realization that he wasn’t getting his pizza right now.
Goten pouted and left the doorway, the door still wide open. He slumped down onto the couch. “It’s for you.”
I felt like dying. “What?”
“Door. You. Answer.” He switched on the TV before continuing, “I think you’ll be out for a while.”
Unable to contain my curiosity, I scrambled off of the floor and shot to the door. My face fell. “What are you doing here?”
“What, aren’t you happy to see me anymore?” Trunks pouted.
“No, I’m not! You used me, you…you…!”
“Pan, calm down,” he said, laughing softly. “Come with me, I’ll explain everything.”
I shot a glance back toward Goten, but he was intently watching the television by now. Sighing, I turned back to Trunks and gingerly stepped out of the apartment, as though I expected something horrible to be waiting for me on the other side. Nothing happened; I reached around and closed the door behind me, eyeing him nervously. “Everything?” I questioned quietly, refusing to move until he gave me an answer to at least that much.
“Yep. Everything.”
My shoulders fell as I let out my sigh of relief. He took me down the stairs and outside the building. “Where are we going?” I asked upon realizing that there was no car.
“We’re just going to walk for a while,” he told me. “Okay?”
“Okay,” I mumbled. He wanted to walk, that was fine with me.
It was beginning to get dark, though it was just after seven. It was still warm, however…the sky was turning from its wonderfully colorful sunset to a medium shade of blue. There was a faint glimmer of a star in the sky, soon to be followed by the galaxy of others. I dedicated myself to slowly watching them appear. I didn’t want to hear what he was about to tell me.
“Pan, I’m really sorry,” he said sadly, even as we walked.
“You don’t have to be…” I stopped, upon realizing that he was no longer beside me. I turned back and went to him, taking his hands in mine and trying, ironically enough, to be comforting. “You don’t have to be sorry. I should be sorry, and I am, and I don’t think I want to know what you’re going to tell me. So just don’t.”
“Pan, I have to.”
Not for the first time that day, I felt the guilt start to overcome me for no reason in particular. My eyes, once again, wandered to the ground. It wasn’t carpet this time—it was the pavement of the sidewalk. My heels clicked on it as I took a small step backwards.
He started to panic, like I was going to run. I felt his grip tighten on my hand…I wanted to run, but I knew I wouldn’t. I couldn’t…this was what I wanted to hear. Or maybe it was the opposite of what I wanted to hear. I wanted to hear that it wasn’t that big a deal. I wanted him to tell me that he was using me to get out of the office or something insignificant like that. But I had a distinct feeling that it wouldn’t turn out the way I wanted it to.
“Panny…”
His tone was sharp yet reasonable, his eyes looking deeply into mine. I wanted to cry. But I only whispered a quiet response…I don’t know what I said. I was completely powerless to form actual words in my mouth. And even if I could, I doubt that my lips could have relayed them correctly.
Somehow…he saw through my protective shield of confidence. He could tell I was angry and afraid and that I wanted to say so much more than I was. He pulled me close to him, one arm wrapping around my small self, the other hand still firmly holding mine. I subconsciously let my head rest on his chest. Stupid, Pan. You’re losing it again. You’re completely hopeless. But I couldn’t help it. I didn’t draw away like my conscious was telling me to…though I knew I should have.
Yes, I was losing. I was failing. But at least I was going down happy.
“I’m really sorry,” he mumbled, so softly that I didn’t catch it at first. I felt my eyes grow heavy…why did he have to make me so comfortable in his embrace? Why!? I wanted to fall asleep, now. But that would be impossible…
“I know,” I finally murmured, after a lot of struggle with words and willpower. I didn’t move an inch—I resumed my battle to stay awake.
He must have gotten concerned when I didn’t answer. I suddenly found myself moving…he was gently guiding me off of the sidewalk. Out of the direct light of the street lamps, and near the small cluster of trees. We were nearing the park, I realized sleepily. It was still lit by dull daylight, now conveying a blue hue over the whole area. There were fireflies floating all around. I couldn’t have chosen a better scene if I’d painted it myself.
We stopped moving. I still wasn’t fully awake, or aware of what he was doing. I only looked faintly over the surroundings. “Pan? You okay?”
“Yes…just tired…”
He pulled away from me, an action that nearly caused me to fall over. Startled by my sudden lack of support, I jerked back to attention.
“What are you doing?” I cried.
He laughed at me. “Waking you up.”
I growled lightly, but let it go. “So, what was so important that you had to keep me from falling asleep?” I questioned, lifting an eyebrow, just generally trying to lighten the mood.
“You know perfectly well what we’re here for,” he said quietly, though I caught a slight glare in his eyes.
It was true; I knew what we were here for. I just didn’t want to have to think of it.
“Pan, I love you,” he began, and this was already starting to scare me. “I don’t want to hurt you, and that was never my intent. I didn’t know we’d be thrown into that mess, with all the complications that sort of messed this up. I’d have never told you this if I didn’t know…I don’t know…”
He tore his gaze away from mine, beginning to pace around in the blue grass. He swatted at a firefly that glowed near his head.
“Trunks,” I whimpered, trying not to sound quite as pathetic as I felt, “I want to tell you something. Before I find out what you’re up to, I think you should know exactly the way I feel.”
“I don’t think—”
“No, I don’t care what you think!” I shouted, suddenly angry. “This whole damn week I’ve been doing nothing but worry about how you felt, and now I’m gonna tell you about me. If you don’t like it, I don’t give a shit, okay?”
“Okay. Sorry,” he said quietly. “Go ahead.”
I regained my composure…scared to death, but not letting it show. This was it: this was my speech. I had to word this the best way I knew how…I didn’t want him getting the wrong impression or anything. I wanted the point to come across clearly, without scaring him. I took a breath. “A long time ago, I thought I was in love with you. I could never really focus on any singular person because I was so…infatuated with you. You. Kami, why the hell am I saying this!?”
“Calm down!” He pulled me to him again as I began to get hysterical. I never, ever wanted to tell him how I felt. Never. It never once crossed my mind that I’d be saying all this and using the word “you” in any of it. “Listen, it’s okay, just finish this. You’ll never have to say it again, I promise. I…I want to know how you feel about this.”
“Okay,” I breathed, still clinging to him for all I was worth. But I slowly drew back; my eyes squeezed shut, trying to put all my focus into this. “I thought I loved you, and I thought I could never have you. So I left. I went away for college because I wanted to learn to live without you. And I did, and it wasn’t as bad as I thought. I found out that I didn’t need you, and my life could still feel complete.”
I fell silent again. He was staring into me so deeply…it was almost as if he knew what I was going to say; like he could see through my eyes and into my soul, reading the words before I spoke them. I could barely see his blue eyes anymore—it was getting too dark to see anything. We’d have to go back to the street before long.
“Is that all?” he asked, unmistakable sadness laced in his tone.
“No,” I said softly, somewhat surprised. I thought for sure he’d read my mind. “No, that’s not all. Now I come to the present.” I paused again to recollect myself. “I thought I was over you, and I thought I’d never need to think of you again. And I found out I did have to think about you. I found out that I was over you…but you changed it again. I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it—I became part of the other five-sixths of the planet that has fallen for you. And now I know that I’m totally hopeless and I can’t live without you. I can, I guess, but not happily. So…to sum it up, I love you, and no one else on the planet. Or in the galaxy, for that matter,” I added as an afterthought. “I got carried away. I was supposed to be trying to hurt you, but I didn’t want to and I kept telling myself that the ‘plan’ wasn’t real and I wouldn’t have to hurt you or you wouldn’t hurt me…I wanted…” I trailed off, ready to burst into tears again.
He gathered me into his arms again, letting me cling to him and struggle not to cry. I wasn’t planning on getting so emotional about this; it wasn’t that important. I’d been angry about this all week, and just now all my pent-up anger and sorrow decided to pour out.
“It’s okay, don’t cry,” he said quietly. All I could see, now, with the side of my head pressed against his chest, was the blue velvet of the twilight’s sky, the dark outline of a few trees, and the fireflies that danced before my face. Trunks seemed to bear a hatred toward those insects, as he flared his ki slightly and forced them to flee. “I know, you’re stressed. You’ve been stressed. Just calm down a little bit…I still have something important to tell you.”
I inhaled deeply, closing my eyes and taking in the short moment of peace I had left. “I know. You can tell me…I won’t fall asleep this time. Thank you for listening to mine.”
“Well, this might sound trivial or whatever, next to that, but I didn’t have any interest in you—romantically, I mean—until Tuesday. That was kind of when I realized that you…liked me differently than I liked you.”
I scoffed quietly. “Worded so nicely, Romeo.”
“Yeah, well, save the applause, it only gets better,” he mumbled wryly. “I sort of led you on…because I thought you could help me. I thought maybe, if you were…I don’t know. I thought you could make me feel better about this Marron stuff. Then I realized, wow, I love her. So I wasn’t really using you…not much, anyway. Just for a few days. Not for a matter of weeks or anything.” He sighed again. “I don’t know how to explain this.”
I caught myself smiling, despite the fact that I should have been at least somewhat hurt. “Safe to make fun of you now?” I asked, pulling my head back to look up at him.
He looked surprised that I wasn’t ready to tear him apart. “Yeah, sure. Tease me all you want.”“How could you do something like that!?” I screeched, jumping backward and now fuming. He only laughed, as that was the reaction he was expecting. I brushed it off. “That’s so cold! I thought you saw something in me that you were too blind to before—I thought you wouldn’t straight up lie to me!”
“You lied to me, too!” he shot back.
“That’s not the point! I wasn’t lying to you out of my own free will, I was lying to you because your sister and my uncle were telling me to!”
“Would you jump off a building if someone told you to?”
“Judging by the likeliness that I won’t get hurt, yes, I would!”
He sighed, the contempt leaving his tone. I could only see his silhouette droop slightly, his head cast to the side. “Okay, bad example. I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be rude about this, because I don’t want you to walk away hating me. In fact…I want you to leave here tonight, maybe…loving me more.”
I looked at him sharply. “What are you talking about?”
His shadowed form grew slowly closer, and I could feel my knees go weak. Don’t let this happen to you, Panny… But it was too late; I could feel his strong arms encircle me again, but gently…I could feel his lips touch mine. I was lost, completely lost—scared to death, yet letting myself get absorbed again.
I tried to get myself to pull away—I can’t begin to describe the force I put into backing out of this. But I couldn’t do it. I kissed him back, furiously, trying to find some way to get out of his arms. But I didn’t want to. Why did I fall victim to him so often? And why…why did it always have to feel so right?
He eventually let me go, and I gazed into the faint glint of starlight reflected in his eyes. I sighed. “I’m so weak…”
He laughed. “No, you’re not. You’re the strongest person I know. I have a small confession to make.”
“Another one? Am I going to hate you for this?”
“I hope not,” he mumbled, his intent not for me to hear it. “I’ve brought you here for a reason. Think of it as one last little plot to remember me by.”
My heart sank. Remember him by? This was bad, this was definitely bad. Then something else occurred to me. “Hey, you set me up!”
“Excellent deduction, my dear,” he snickered. I only glared at him. “Okay, I have a little more explaining to do. You thought you were done with this in the morning, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” I growled through gritted teeth, “but that had nothing to do with this.”
He sighed, once again distraught. “Fine. Fair enough.” He paused to closely inspect my expression, noting that I was glaring at him and not having any intention of letting him explain this without feeling guilt. “I had to talk to someone today about a certain young woman that I find very intriguing. Specifically, I had to speak with her father.”
“You…her father…” I trailed off, trying to piece this together. “When?”
“This afternoon, in fact,” he commented. He searched my soul with his eyes, trying to see what I knew about this. “I had to cut off our conversation earlier because of it.”
I fell silent again. Please tell me my father’s not going to kill him, I prayed silently.
“I didn’t want to go,” he grumbled, now lost in his own thoughts and just relaying them to me. “I thought he was going to kill me. But what was I supposed to do, keep looking like the evil, evil one who can’t possibly be any sort of match for anyone? Like, no matter what, I’d end up hurting her somehow? No, I couldn’t do that. So I had to go tell him that. And he didn’t kill me, I’m still alive!”
He was proud of himself now. I sighed. “Just get on with the story. Why did you go over there, and what did you tell him?”
“I told him I wasn’t going to hurt you. I told him that I cared about you very much and that I wouldn’t let…oops, I was supposed to leave that in third person,” he remembered. “Damn. Oh well, you knew I was talking about Gohan anyway, right?”
I nodded. So that was it. He needed to go clarify his innocence in the situation to my father, although he knew the entire thing already. But that meant he was there when I called…and I didn’t hear any panicked whispers in the background while my father was mumbling about murder. Which meant they already had a backup plan in case I called. Which meant…what did it mean? I was beginning to get a headache.
“I basically told him the whole thing,” Trunks continued, oblivious to my confusion. “He wasn’t angry at all. He said he figured something like this would happen.”
And, once again, someone knew something that they didn’t bother telling me. Some friends they were.
“I left Bra to distract you from going over there or calling, and I guess she didn’t quite do her job,” he said dryly. “But anyway, that’s it.”
I wished I could see his face. I wished I could see his expression, maybe be able to tell what he was searching for in mine. But it was too dark; I couldn’t see a thing, save for the stars shimmering from the water of the pond, and their light reflecting through his eyes and back to mine. “He wasn’t mad?” I asked quietly.
“No.”
“Then…you’re not breaking up with me?”
He laughed. “No.”
I sighed, greatly relieved. “Thank you.”
“No problem.” He looked to the sky, as if suddenly realizing it was dark. “It’s late, isn’t it?”
“Only around eight-ish.”
“Why’s it so dark?”
I smiled faintly, though he couldn’t see me. “I don’t know. It’s fate.”
There was a short silence. “You should probably go home or something, huh?”
“Probably. You know…Goten ordered pizza. I think I should make sure he didn’t steal half of my life’s savings to pay for it.”
“Yeah…”
I searched for words to translate what I felt, but none came to me. I hated my inability to express myself at times like this.
“So…”
“Yeah…” I silently cursed myself. What exactly was I trying to say, anyway? Truthfully, I had no idea. I just didn’t want him to leave me right then. “You think you could maybe walk me home?”
I could actually see the faint hint of a smile that crossed his lips. “Yeah,” he agreed quietly. “Poor helpless little Panny couldn’t find her way in the dark, anyway.”
I normally would have flared, gotten at least a little angry at him…but he came up to me, snaking his arm around my waist and pulling me against him. I let my head rest on his shoulder as we walked back to my apartment. Goten would be happy to see everything was okay…he was pulling for us the whole time, I thought. I wondered if he was going to stay at my house forever—or at least as long as the pizza held out. Knowing Goten, he’d stay at my apartment until he found that he’d eaten the last of my cereal in the morning. After that, he’d probably cross town and go to Marron’s hoping she was still nice enough to feed him. Then, in a few days, after he’d eaten everything in the city, he’d go back to his house.
We were such liars. Such chronic liars—but we were good at it. I guess that’s just the way we function around here—lie to each other, only to be later stabbed in the back and, even farther down the line, to forgive and forget and get back on with life.
“And just think,” he commented out of nowhere, “this morning, you were ready to kill me.”
I smiled faintly. “Yeah, I was.”
“And you were completely prepared to request Gohan’s assistance in slaughtering me.”
“No…” I sighed. “I wanted to kill you myself.”
We eventually got there—to the apartment building. I looked up at it, and it suddenly looked huge to me. It looked like a ridiculously tall skyscraper, though it was only five stories up. The light was still on in the balcony doorway—Goten was still in there, eating his pizza and watching TV.
“I think that’s what he does every night,” I muttered to myself, slipping away from Trunks and lifting into the blue, velvet sky. Before all too long, I was on the balcony, looking the long way down to Trunks. “You coming or what?”
He hesitated. “No,” he said finally. “Spend some quality time with your uncle.”
I groaned. All I’d been doing all day was talk to Goten. But if Trunks didn’t want to come in, I wasn’t going to force him. “Okay,” I called. “See you later then.”
He took to the air, too, heading in the direction of his own home. “Bye,” he called back.
I watched him leave, then turned and reentered my apartment. Goten was, as I expected, sitting on the ground and drinking Pepsi and eating pizza and popcorn, making a mess of my living room while completely absorbed in a cartoon. Cartoons, of all things. I chuckled softly and sank down beside him, watching the coyote hurl himself off a cliff.
“Nice date?” he asked after a few minutes of coyote torture, his eyes still fixed on the television.
“Yep,” I replied. “He didn’t break up with me.”
“I didn’t expect him to.” There was another long silence between us. The poor coyote fell off three more cliffs before he spoke again. “You getting married?”
“Nope,” I replied, my hand edging ever closer to the pizza box lying next to me. I didn’t mean to do it—I was still sworn off of food for another day and a half. But, being a Saiyan, I was starving.
He finally took his eyes off the TV and focused them on mine. “You can have some if you want. I had to borrow a little bit of money from you.”
I groaned. “You better pay me back. Don’t you work evenings?”
“Not Saturday evenings.” He paused to laugh at the coyote launching himself from a canon. “Some dude named Taylor called. Said he wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“How did he get my number?” I wondered aloud. Oh, well. Taylor wasn’t all that bad, anyway, plus he already knew where I lived. No big deal. “You going home or are you staying the night?”
“I’m staying, if you don’t mind,” he told me. “I’ll sleep here.”
“No way. My living room will be even more destroyed than it already is. You’re sleeping in the guest room.”
He shrugged, not wanting to argue when he had a better situation given to him. “Fine by me. You gonna tell Gohan?”
I hesitated. “In the morning,” I decided. He didn’t have to know the very moment it happened.
“Sleep, then. I’m getting you up at six to start your fun-filled adventure of breaking the news to my brother.”
I sighed. Maybe this was a bad idea. But no, I loved Trunks, and I was willing to bear this torture for him. Bulma would undoubtedly torture him, as well—just not threateningly. So it was decided. I’d tell my father in the morning, if Goten happened to wake up when he claimed he would. “I can even sleep in my own bed tonight,” I commented to no one in particular. I didn’t have anything to fear…like remembering painful experiences. It was all gone, now.
“Then go. I can finish watching the crafty and evasive Road Runner—then I’ll have to go to bed, too. If we have any hope of breaking the news to my brother within a day. Go to sleep, little Panny.”
I scowled at him, but I complied, leaving the room almost right away (but not before tossing some popcorn at him). I was actually happy to be in my room, for once. I was happy to lay there curled up in the still-disordered blankets. It was stupid, really. It was only Trunks, he wasn’t going to kill me. What was I so worried about, anyway?
I let my fingers run along the silken sheets and pillow, just thinking. I’d been doing too much thinking—I still thought so. I especially thought so, now. This hadn’t turned out as badly as I’d thought it would. It was stupid and insignificant, just as I’d hoped. I mean, it wasn’t like he was using me to get to Goten. That would have seriously scared me. I shuddered at the possiblity. “He better not even try it,” I grumbled to myself, rolling slightly, pulling the blankets around me. Wouldn’t that make the perfect ending to this little story?
Of course it would. But it wouldn’t actually happen. This was over now; I was fine. I’d escaped safely. I had no reason to hate anyone. Marron and Bra…I would forgive them eventually. Sooner than I wanted to, probably. Bra had this amazing ability to plead her way out of just about anything. All she really had to do was quiver her lip a little bit, and almost anyone (including the all-mighty Vegeta) was at her mercy.
How the hell had I managed to land myself in this? He didn’t want to hurt me—he never had any intention of it. I should have done the intelligent thing and just stayed away from the supermarket. I should have been more intelligent and straight up told Bra that her stupid idea was…well, stupid. It was improbable. He didn’t want revenge against anyone—and especially not Goten. Who could possibly want to hurt Goten? I wondered, snorting sarcastically to myself. It was fun, though. I’d gotten to torture him first-hand with this situation. I had to admit, it was hysterical.
He even took it worse than Dad did. Dad was being nice about all this. Maybe he just felt bad for me because I was single all the time…maybe he just wanted me to finally settle down with anyone. But who said I was settling down? I bristled slightly at that thought, all the while falling asleep, not completely together in the head. I was tired—I’d had a long and exhausting day. I went from angry to confused to hurt to in love and back to angry and hurt. I was in love again, now, though. I wasn’t angry or hurt. I smirked subconsciously to myself. I was still okay.
Maybe my father wasn’t actually happy about this—maybe he’d tear me apart the second I set foot in that house in the morning, assuming strange and uncalled for things about Trunks and me. That was the probable reaction; the one I was expecting. He’d instantly assume that we’d gone a little farther than he’d want to know (but it would still be him bringing it up, which was the part that always confused me) and attempt to beat it out of me. Whether or not I’d survive the morning would depend on two things.
First, I’d have to depend on my mother. If she was there, or if she supported me enough, she’d stop him from murdering me. The second was Goten. If he could actually hold off my father for long enough, I’d stand a good chance of living. And if somehow, miraculously, he was able to fend off Dad, I could run for help (namely, Vegeta) or start yelling at him while he was fighting my uncle. Or maybe it wouldn’t get to that. Maybe he’d just smile and accept it.
I snorted. Yeah, right. That was just wishful thinking.
I gingerly reached up and tapped the alarm a few times, assured that it was functioning properly. What time would I have to get up at? If I considered the lenght of time it would take me to explain this to Dad, plus the time for Goten to wake up fully, plus how long I’d have to comfort Dad when he was hysterical and wondering where his little baby had gone…plus the time to calm my mother and get her to stop planning non-existant weddings… This could potentially take forever. I decided to set the alarm for eight, praying silently that Goten wouldn’t wake up at six. I didn’t want to wake up at six. Too early for me—too early for nearly the entire world!
Content with my backup preperation, I drew my hand back and grabbed my sacred blanket, pulling it around me before even touching the others, and then using the other hand to pull the other blankets to join the first. I breathed in deeply, trying to clear my head. I had to sleep if I wanted to get up on time. Much as I didn’t want to, and as useless as it seemed, I had to.
“’Night, Pan,” I murmured to myself as sleep claimed me.
One Simple Little Wish
Fanfics
Go home!
Email Pan no Ojousan