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24 March 2007 @ 01:59 pm
A Price Paid in Blood, ch. 2 (DBZ)  
Title: A Price Paid in Blood
Fandom: Dragonball Z
Rating: PG-13 (for thematic elements)
Genre: Drama/Angst
Publish Date: 8/13/2002 to 11/4/2002
Disclaimer: A, B, C, D, E, F, G, I do not own DBZ.




ChiChi set the last of the dishes in the drainer to dry. Through the open window, she could hear her sons laughing.

"Catch me if you can, big brother!"

"Oh no, you’re too fast for me!"

She smiled fondly. Gohan was such a good older brother. Goten was so much like Goku…it was almost like having her husband back with her.

They’d be coming in soon. Then Gohan would tuck Goten into bed and tell him a story about Goku, just like they did every night. It was Goten’s favorite thing in the world, to hear stories about his father and all the adventures he’d gone on. Some nights, ChiChi would stand in the doorway to listen to whatever tale Gohan would weave for them. And he always managed to leave a cliffhanger.

Smiling, ChiChi exited the kitchen and headed for her room. To get there, she had to pass Gohan’s room; as she walked past, she glanced inside, and saw some laundry laying on the floor.

"Oh, that boy," she muttered to herself. "How many times have I told him not to leave his laundry lying around?" She set about picking up the discarded clothing. It was what he’d been wearing earlier when they’d gone over to Capsule Corp to visit with Bulma. He’d changed into his gi right after dinner to take Goten outside and run around for a little while.

As she picked a T-shirt up off the corner of the bed, something shining on the bedspread caught her eye. She leaned forward and picked it up.

A razor blade with a blood-stained edge.

Suddenly, ChiChi found that her legs wouldn’t quite support her anymore, and she slowly sank down onto the bed, still holding the blade in her hand.

Now, now, there’s got to be a reasonable explanation for this, don’t jump to conclusions. But what possible reason could Gohan have for keeping a razor blade around? she wondered as she looked around a little bit. In the open nightstand drawer, she saw a small white box with more blades in it. Her blood ran cold at the sight.

"There’s nothing wrong, it’s all explainable," she said out loud, hoping to convince herself. But it wasn’t working. She decided to ask her oldest son about it as soon as he came inside.

Right after the story, she told herself with grim determination.