Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Without Peer ❯ Chapter 2 ( Chapter 2 )

Title: Without Peer (2/5-ish)

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ or any of its characters. Don't sue; you'll get nothin' anyway.

Rated: Teens and up

Summery: Pan enters the Tenkaichi Budoukai to gain someone's recognition and reap a little revenge on the person who took her Grandfather away.       I fell in love with Piccolo when he came to my fourteenth birthday party. And my feelings took me by complete surprise, let me tell you. At the time I had no use for boys. While my girl friends swooned over some immature boy at school I was finding new ways to get out of homework to go do cooler, more exciting things. After all, my whole life I heard about the adventures the adults around me went on as kids. I wanted the daring-do my Dad and his friends took for granted when they were my age and younger. I didn’t want the world to constantly face utter devastation or anything like that—not that I couldn’t handle it—but it seemed unfair I was born after my family and their friends brought Earth to a lasting peace where nothing dangerous or remotely edgy happened anymore.   On the day of my fourteenth birthday party I wanted to be anywhere but at home. I never got any fun presents. I had to pretend to gush over the clothes and books my folks always give me; and while on occasion my Grandpa Satan doled out a few hundred Zenni, most of that went into my college fund.   Marron and her folks showed up and I was happy about that, since her family and mine didn’t get together like we used to and Marron was like my super-cool cousin. She was beautiful and wasn’t boy crazy like most girls I knew, she dated when she felt like but could go months without a guy in her life and she couldn’t care less.   Eighteen, Marron’s mother, was an older version of her; equally as beautiful and the exact opposite of the women in my family, myself included. Eighteen rarely spoke unless she had something to say, at which point everyone listened, even Vegeta paid attention though he tried not to let on. She was unsettling in a way; those smooth, perfect features eternally young, never cheaply displayed emotion. It was scary to me not knowing when someone’s mad or happy—or ready to kill or hug you—since people in my family pretty much wore their hearts on their sleeve. How Krillin wrangled a loving marriage out Eighteen, I’ll never know.   Though I never considered Eighteen aunt material, Krillin was very much like an uncle to me. I remember growing up how he’d regal me with bawdy tales of my Grandpa, Bulma, Yamucha, Oolong and him when everybody and their mother wanted to find the Dragonballs. He wasn’t afraid to be silly and act out the stories just to make me laugh. And he taught me how to be a smart ass, too. For a guy so good-natured most the time, Krillin had a scathing, sarcastic wit. He always had a good zinger or two to sling discreetly behind Vegeta’s back.   I may have been willing to crawl out of my skin to get away from the party, but my extended family made my wanderlust bearable.   My folks decided to hold my party at Grandma’s house. Goku hadn’t returned from training Ubuu at the time and Uncle Goten moved out the year before and I guess they thought she’d appreciate the company even though Great Grandpa still lived with her. Chi-Chi’s house was way out in the middle of god’s nowhere—the nearest Cineplex was like fifty miles away! Which totally made me resent all the times my Dad reminded me he had to study ten hours a day when he was a kid. Well, what else did he have to do? I had movies and video games and an honest to god social life, and he had, what, trees to climb and a pet dragon to occupy his time?   It was prettier out there, I admit, and quieter, too, than in Satan City. I guess that’s why we held the party outside. Grandma had tables set up not far from the house one long wooden table where we all sat and another small wooden table where she and my Mom placed the steaming pots of stews and plates of sliced roasted meats. Chi-Chi never really got out of the habit of cooking up meals big enough to feed a small army and so there was plenty to eat for everyone, and though Goku wasn’t around between Goten, Dad, my brother Leurc, Great Grandpa and myself I doubted there’d be any leftovers.   Marron and I sat next to each other. I don’t remember exactly what we talked about, I recall bitching about Leurc and her saying something about this guy who was chasing her at school. My parents chatted with hers, Eighteen look really bored, but I wasn’t sure. Leurc was quietly fooling around with his laptop ignoring everyone else at the table while he leisurely shoveled stew into his mouth. Grandma was busy going back and forth into the house to bring out more food and asking everyone if they were good before joining us at the table beside her dad to eat.   Then I noticed all at once every one got quiet. I looked at my folks and saw my Dad with an expression I recognized as pure joy, his gaze focused behind me. Both Marron and I turned and I think my eyes got wide, comically wide. Out of all my Dad’s friends I knew Piccolo the least. I think I knew more about Vegeta. I can count on one finger the times I’ve seen him, that one time being at the last Tenkaichi Budoukai I went to and competed in when I was five. Piccolo cuts an impressive figure: tall, really tall, only my Great Grandpa towered above him, green and powerfully built. He’d come to remind me of Eighteen, in that neither was talkative and the least excessive people I knew.   One way they were different beyond the obvious was that I found Piccolo more mysterious. Eighteen was unfathomable at times, don’t get me wrong, but Piccolo was a real alien. He didn’t eat food, had two different entities merged inside his body and he didn’t think like a human.   Like a big elf, a big green elf, at least that’s how I thought he looked when I was a kid. Older now, I thought he looked like one of those dark elves I read about in mangas: full of potential wickedness and exotic beauty. Piccolo was attractive in an unusual way.   I liked unusual.   “Piccolo-sama! I’m glad you decided to come after all,” my Dad said getting up from the table and walking over to the Namek-Jin.   Piccolo nodded curtly. “Dende suggested it. Apparently he thinks I’ve been cooped up on the Lookout too long.”   Dad laughed. “Wow, you think?”   Piccolo out and out growled at Gohan. I didn’t image there are very many people who could get away with laughing at Piccolo the way my Dad just did. “I’m glad you are amused, Gohan.”   My Dad chuckled then stepped next to the Namek-Jin and then they began walking towards the table.   “He’s a tall drink of water, isn’t he?” Marron whispered in my ear.   I was startled and glanced at her. She was smiling at me like she knew something I didn’t. “What?”   “Piccolo. You know: tall, dark, handsome and antennae?”   For some reason I felt my face go prickly with heat. “He’s not…”   “Not what?” Marron was still whispering, we both were, but I couldn’t figure out why.   “Nothing,” I said, looking away.   Marron was quiet and I hazarded a glimpse at her. Marron’s head was tilted to the side, her own long beautifully styled hair draping over her face, then she swept her locks away and grinned at me. She pushed my bangs off my forehead like she had her own and said, “Happy birthday, Pan-chan.”             & nbsp;         **********    ******************   ***************  **********   *********       The party wound down, culminating in me opening presents. I got the standard clothes and books from my folks, my Grandma and her father; I was ecstatic, of course. Uncle Goten, in-between jobs, promised to take me fishing the next day. I got Five hundred Zenni in an envelope my Grandpa Satan, sent in lieu of showing up. Once he heard Eighteen was going to be at my party he decided not to come. Marron bought me the best gift, a one-year pass to the movie theatre chain I liked. It must have cost a fortune! Krillin and Eighteen got me a collection of DVDs, which was also pretty cool in my book.   Piccolo was the only one to not bring a gift, well, besides Leurc, whose gift I would have promptly dunked in water in case it was the kind of present that exploded.   “I was not aware a tithe was needed,” he said, sounding truly baffled by the expectation.   “T-That’s okay,” I said. I think my head was about to burn right up. I was sitting on the grass, surrounded by my presents, thumbing the edges of the laminated pass Marron got me, doing everything in my power not to look at the green man.   “Sorry, I forgot to tell you people get gifts on their birthdays,” Dad replied.   “Mmm, I see. Stand up, Pan,” Piccolo said.   I looked at Piccolo’s expressionless face and gulped, and I thought I heard Marron snicker from somewhere. I steadily rose to my feet and gulped when he walked towards me. I tried not to flinch, but did anyway, when he placed his talon-tipped hand on top of my head. I felt a strange fluttering of air on my body, as if for an instant I was naked and bared to the open air, then it was gone. Replaced with the sensation of a tremendous weight on my shoulders and I had to strain muscle to stay on my feet.   “Grow stronger and you’ll earn what I have given you,” Piccolo said. Still trying to find my balance, I looked down at the clothes I now wore. Gone were my red tank top, blue jeans and high tops, instead I found this huge weird white cape thing over my shoulders, a loose purple one-piece with no sleeves, a red cloth belt around my middle and brownish loafers.   I looked back up at Piccolo but he’d already turned to my Dad. “Goodbye, Gohan,” he said, and then he floated up into the air and flew away.   “So long, Piccolo-sama,” Dad cried out, waving at the Namek-Jin’s retreating figure.   I just stood there, not knowing what I felt besides like falling on my ass under the weight of my new clothes. I was almost sure he called me weak before he left and I should have been angry with that, but I wasn’t. It was true. I wasn’t exactly the best I could be I knew, but I got by. Goten and Trunks and I were equals in strength and they were way older than me!   Later that night on the drive back to Satan City I couldn’t stop thinking about Piccolo’s words—his accusation. It was at home laying on my bed dressed in PJ’s, the strange purple and white outfit folded in the back of my closet, when I decided to get stronger. So strong that cape would be weigh nothing, so strong I’d make Piccolo notice.         Piccolo quickly finished off his opponent. He was a study in perfected motion and economic energy usage. I detected his movement (it was a little disconcerting, and thrilling, to know I was actually stronger than him) but no one could deny he was an excellent fighter.   I hide my excitement when Piccolo stepped off the stage and approached me wearing a gi nearly identical to mine, the number 40 taped across his broad chest. I was mindful to keep my head held high, though I was far from reaching Piccolo’s stature. He stood before me, looking down at me thoughtfully, evaluating like Vegeta had earlier. Only I didn’t feel like he was hunting a hundred and one ways to kill me. Waiting for him to speak was the longest thirty seconds of my life.   “I see you’ve utilized the last two years well. I look forward to seeing how far you’ve progressed.”   Before I could respond he walked away, the crowd of fighters parting before him as he made his way to a secluded corner of the room and sat down cross-legged. He then crossed his arms over his chest and closed his eyes. I guess he was in that position the whole time before his match and that’s why I hadn’t seen him.   I was flabbergasted. Our exchange was so brief and I expected more. I never hoped for gushing from Piccolo, nothing like that, but I wanted a chance to tell him all the training I did was inspired by him; that I was worthy of his respect now. Then it occurred to me he did say he wanted to see how good a fighter I’d become, which meant he’d be watching me during the Tenkaichi Budoukai. I had to prove myself in the ring if Piccolo was ever going to acknowledge me. I had to! I rejoined my Grandpa and the others and waited for my prelim match, more determined than ever.   Finally my turn came to get on the stage. The crowd shouted catcalls and whistled, but it didn’t bother me. I waited for my opponent to take the stage with me. He was a large man, not uncommonly so, but he had three feet and two hundred pounds on me. He was blond and wore a white karate gi. He smiled, no grinned, at me and I had the feeling he wasn’t taking me seriously. For a moment I decided to take him out instantly just to rub his face in how weak he was compared to me, then I decided to keep to my plan instead.   The referee blew his whistle and the fight began. The blond rushed me and it was at this juncture my fighting differed from the others. Goku and them used their highly advanced skills to deal with their opponents; I decided to use basics. I held my ground until the last second when the man was right on top of me, his arms outstretched to grab me. I stepped to the side took his arm and easily flipped over then tossed him into the crowd.   I won the match and left the stage. A few members of the crowd helped the blond to his feet; the rest laughed at him. It wasn’t as though I was conserving my energy. Any ki I might have used would have been miniscule. I just didn’t want to give Goten, Trunks or especially Ubuu information about my prowess. Utilizing a simple throw technique was enough to win so that’s what I used. Besides it was good to use regular martial arts since I’d depended on the inherent power of my Saiya-Jin heritage for so long, and very little martial skill.   Another hour passed and the original count of two hundred and eight fighters had been cut down to twenty-six. Goten’s match had ended without much ado, with Goten as the winner. We’d all qualified for the semi-finals. Now we’d fight in front of hundreds of excited spectators waiting to see the best fighters in the world challenge the unbeatable Mister Satan. The remaining combatants traveled to the main stadium, breaking up into small groups.   A lot of the contestants knew each other from previous Tenkaichi Budoukai and were friendly to one another though it was possible their friend could be the one to knock them out of the Tournament. It was the sportsmanship the Tenkaichi Budoukai was famous for. I hung out with Goten and Trunks, though I could have done without watching them make idiots of themselves as they harassed every good-looking young woman who caught their eye. They were my only choice since Ubuu never left Goku’s side. I could have gone into the stands and found my folks, but Dad still gave me a hard time about fighting.   I was standing behind Trunks and Goten, my arms crossed over my chest and leaning against one of the outside railings the concession stands used to keep customers in orderly lines. The boys chatted up a couple of scatter-brained girls and I was very, very bored. I was grateful when Marron came up to me.   “Hey, Pan.”   “Oh, thank Kami!”   “The guys ignoring you?” Marron asked, quickly grasping my situation.   I glared at the ‘guys’ and said, “It’s what they’re not ignoring that’s getting to me.”   “Really, what’s that?”   I turned to Marron with what I’m sure was a nasty grin on my face. “Their dicks.”   Marron laughed.   “Pan!” Goten shouted. Oops, they heard me. The girls he and Trunks had been talking to were clearly embarrassed and scampered away, shooting them suspicious glances. When they were at a respectable distance, the girls ran.   Goten glowered at me. “Gohan is going to hear about your language, young lady!”   “I’m sorry, Uncle Goten!” I said as sweetly as I could. Adding a big eyes stare and some rapid blinking. It was a killer expression and Goten was always helpless before it. I’m just glad Marron didn’t laugh; Goten might have cotton to my tried and true swindle.   “Well… okay, just don’t use that kind of language again.”   “What!” Trunks exclaimed. “She just chased away some potential tai--” Trunks stopped abruptly and looked at Marron and me before quickly modifying his rant to Goten. “Um, er, dates. Dates! And that’s all she gets?”   Yeah, right, like the good looks and multi-million dollar trust fund limits your opportunities, I thought bitchily at the lilac haired man.   “Oh, boo-hoo,” Marron said, not without bitchiness herself.   Trunks gave the blond a heated look. “Don’t you have another poor guy to grind under your heel?”   Marron and Trunks dated briefly last year. The relationship hadn’t ended well. I love Marron dearly but she totally worked Trunks over. She thought he was attractive like most women in the free world, but unfortunately Trunks was all too aware of how women saw him and let it go to his head. Marron ended up taking him down a peg or two before their split—mostly for her own amusement.   I still think Marron likes Trunks but let his arrogance blind her to his better qualities. “Not really,” Marron said with an indifferent tone, a small smile on her lips, “I’m still cleaning bits of you off my pumps.” I said she liked him, not that she was warm and cuddly about it.   “Ice queen!”   “Momma’s boy.”   “Ball buster!”   “Spoiled, narcissistic slacker.”   “You--” Trunks started but Goten dragged him away. I was doing the same with Marron, but she wasn’t exactly digging in her heels. She came along easily, a cool satisfied smile on her face.   “Come on, Trunks, lets go check out… something,” Goten muttered feebly.         “Trunks is a nice guy, you know,” I said.   Marron and I were walking to the stands; our destination was the section where her mom and dad sat. I figured I could hang out with them until the semis began. I knew I’d avoid lectures from either Krillin or Eighteen. Krillin would probably wish me good luck and say he couldn’t wait to see me in action. I wasn’t expecting much conversation from Eighteen, but she sure wouldn’t tell me I should be focused on getting astronomical grades instead of fighting.   “Sure, he is,” Marron replied noncommittally. I thought she was being remote because she didn’t want to talk about Trunks, then I realized she was actually distracted. Strange, Marron wasn’t easily distracted from anything. She saw and heard everything, and her focus was sharper than any blade.   “Hey, what’s going on in your nippy brain now?”   She didn’t respond at first and it looked like she wasn’t going to answer, then she looked at me and said, “Is… Is Goten seeing anyone?”   “No. What does he have to do with…?” Oh.   “Well, is he?”   “He’s Trunks best friend,” I said carefully, trying not to sound judgmental. Actually, those two were more like brothers and it was icky to think about Marron going out with one then moving on to the other.   “It’s not that gross,” Marron said after seeing the disapproval on my face. “It’s not like I ever had sex with Trunks.”   “You didn’t have sex with Trunks?” I may not have been wild about boys until I discovered my adoration for Piccolo, but even I had to acknowledge Trunks was physically appealing. I wasn’t blind after all.   “Yes, he’s surprised by that, too,” Marron said, smirking. She sighed then went on to say, “I always thought myself a sophisticated and modern person and that I wanted a man who was the same, but most of them are so full of themselves.”   “So Goten’s just the rube you’re looking for,” I said hotly.   “It’s not like that!” Marron exclaimed.   “Just because Goten didn’t go to college or have some fancy job that doesn’t mean he’s beneath anybody!”   We’d stopped walking and were facing each other. I felt insulted and I wasn’t afraid to show it. I always knew Marron had a superiority complex, and why not? She was remarkably beautiful, highly intelligent and always knew what she wanted and exactly how to get it. She owned herself.   I admit I laughed all the times she used men and discarded them, even when she did it to Trunks because he needed a kick in the pants, but the thought she might hurt Goten made my blood boil. He reminded me so much of Grandpa Goku. He wasn’t the least bit sophisticated and there wasn’t an unkind bone in his body. And he was content with his lot in life, which might not have been as successful as my Dad’s or Trunks’, but he was happy. No one had the right to look down on him, not even Marron.   Marron’s mouth was a thin line and that meant she was beyond angry, but being the kind of person she was she wouldn’t unleash her anger uncontrollably, she really didn’t know how. She turned away for a second then back, and that thin line of her lips was gone. “I… see my parents and how happy they are and I want that. So far I haven’t even come close and I think I’m looking in all the wrong places.”   “And going out with Goten is what, testing out the shallow end of the pool?” I know I was being a complete wench to her, especially after her confession, which I know killed her to say. But we were talking about my Uncle and I couldn’t let her off so easily.   “You’re really going to make me say this, aren’t you?” Marron said and began combing her fingers through her hair, straightening out imaginary imperfections. I’ve never seen her so shaken before. I was almost afraid of what she was going to tell to me. “I always thought Goten was… attractive.”   “Why didn’t you say anything?”   “Because of this very conversation,” Marron said. “Being with Trunks was a mess from beginning to end like every other relationship I’ve had. I’m tired of making the same mistake over and over. Goten… Look, you know how I am—was—I probably would have wound up toying with Goten and lost you as my friend, so I locked him away in my ‘no dating category’. Now… I think Goten and I can make each other happy.”   Marron smiled wistfully and continued, “I’ve known him almost my whole life and… I did think he was too ordinary and laidback and thought I wanted somebody challenging, somebody not afraid to stand up to me. I figured only intense, assertive guys could give me that.” Marron fell silent and looked miserable.   I knew I could keep giving Marron a hard time, guilt-free, but she was serious about starting something with Goten. If she was, then I wasn’t going to stand in the way. I smiled broadly at her and said, “Okay, go for it, but can I be there when you ask him out?”   Marron looked relieved. “Why?”   “I’ve never seen anyone have a coronary before.”   “You talk like he’s already agreed to going out with me,” Marron said as we began walking again.   “How can he possibly resist?” I asked cheerfully, I was getting into the idea of my best friend and Uncle becoming boyfriend and girlfriend.   “My reputation might scare him, not to mention the things Trunks told him about me. Maybe I’m not his type,” she said while compulsively running her fingers through her hair. I didn’t believe my ears; Marron was insecure about a guy? That was both disturbing and endearing.   I waited with Marron’s family until the announcer called out for the contestants to come to the ring. I joined the other fighters and let the cheers from the audience wash over me. The announcer introduced each of us; Grandpa Goku got the loudest ovation as a former two-time Tenkaichi Budoukai champion. I received the next loudest as granddaughter of Satan, the World’s Savior. But our ovations were nothing compared to the one Grandpa Satan received when he walked on stage. Cries of Satan-kun shook the stadium, as the adulation from the crowd grew more and more frenzied. After a few words from Grandpa Satan the semi-finals began.