Akira's Anime Fan Archive
Ordinary Day: Chapter 1

Balls

A/N: After reading several 'what-if-DBZ-characters-somehow-ended-up-in-the-real-world' fics, *shrugs* I decided to make my own. But there's difference. In every one I've read, the character(s) know something, perhaps several things, about the show. Well as goes my fic, this character knows NOTHING about it. Except for the fact that a sibling watches something about balls. O.o
 
DISCLAIMER: Don't own the anime or its characters. I own my characters though.
 
*shoves Bally in front of her*
Watch it lawyers, I've got a female Saiyan, and I'm not afraid ta use er.
*she gives father's glare aimed at author *
SEE! You're tickin er off already.
*I smiles cheesily*
"Don't. Touch. Me"
"Ha."
Let's go.

I pulled up into the driveway in my black Viper. My system blared Rob Zombie.
I turned off the car, shutting the music down with it.
It had been a long, hard day.
I may have gotten to school earlier, but from there it had all gone down. I had caught my ex, and ex-best friend in a make-out session outside homeroom. I had been able to ignore them with dignity, but I was still disturbed, and later on it just pushed open the old wound. Which had taken me just two months to close.
<Oh, good for you. You're ex-best takes your boyfriend and yet you still choose to be friendly. How pathetic can you get?!>
I growled, my mood had just gone from bad to worse.
Opening my door, and slinging my weighed-down backpack from the passengers seat, I hopped out. My combat boots allowing me to grip the concrete.
Letting the thing hang down from my arm, not far from the ground, I took my free hand and slammed my door shut. Then locking it with the automatic on my keys, I trudged to the front door, the old feeling of betrayal coming back full force.

I opened to the door to my parents' mansion, suddenly feeling exhausted.
<Too bad you've got ten pounds worth of homework, and only one, five-pound textbook worth of it. >
I trudged down the long hallway, making a left some ways down and into a large kitchen that was open to a playroom.
The TV was loud, REALLY loud.
I lifted my backpack up as high as I could, then dropped it, the sound of heavy cardboard and title colliding.
The sound was immediately turned down.
"Hey sis!"
The enthusiastic voice showed a face as a six-year-old boy ran toward me.
His jet-black hair and baby blue eyes alight with his youth.
I gave a smile for his sake.
Though by the dull in his eyes, it must've not been much.
"Yeah, Hunt, it's me."
I turned my attention toward my burden on the floor. Snorting, I decided to leave it there, for now.
"Are you okay?"
I frowned at the bag, then turned toward him.
"I've just had a long day."
He accepted it, then took off running back to the TV.
I walked after him.
Sitting closer to the TV then I would have liked, sat his 12-year-old look alike brother.
"Blake, what are you watching?" I asked with a motherly tone.
I made a face.
That wasn't good.
"DBZ Cham."
I stiffened.
"Ju, only family call me that, and you are not bloodly related to me," I hissed.
The 13-year-old Korean smiled flirtatiously at me as he came from a hall off of the playroom.
I scoffed, feeling violent.
"Don't piss me off, I've had a VERY bad day," I growled.
He raised an eyebrow, then walked to sit by his best friend.
"And what's DBZ?" I growled.
"Dragonball Z" Blake answered absent-mindedly.
"What..."
"Just watch!" my brother shouted, turning up the sound in order to drown me out.
Growling, I walked cautiously over to a couch by the surrounded television.
Two over muscled men began exchanging heavy blows.
Their forms turned into a blur, then stopping some minutes later completely. They just stood there, staring.
<Correction. One is an over muscled man, pumped up with steroids, going bald, and with the ugliest looking mug I've ever seen. The other is a taller green bug that reminds me of a cockroach. >
They started up again.
"What is this?" I growled.
Silence ensued.
It was then, to my relief, that the doorbell rang. Well, not really relief, but at least I had something other to do than watch this.
Getting up, I walked back through the kitchen and down the hall.

Stopping at the door, I caught my reflection in the mirror.
I wasn't bad looking. No, not bad at all. My hair was black brown, long, medium curled, and silky. My honey skinned glowed, and my dark eyes exotic. At 5"5 I wasn't tall but short neither.
Today I had chosen a form fitting, black, peasant shirt and black baggy army pants.
<So why did he leave me? >
Another knock ensued, this one harder.
I growled, not happy about being stolen from my thought.
<Eh, maybe whoever did me a good thing? >
I brushed my hair back with my hand, and opened the door.
 

Hmm, horrible start, I'm aware. This falls into the 'I-just-got-the-idea-and-don't-know-what-else-to-do-with-it' category. Or you might accept this, I was bored. Okay, you're welcome to tell me how it is. I don't care WHAT you say. Have fun.
-O2
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Home

Epics | Long Stories | Short Stories | Favorite Links | Contact Me | Submission Rules