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Crossworlds (DBZ style)

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Summary: Post-Gift. Buffy ends up in Mirai Trunks 'world

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Anime > DB/DBZDelphineFR1555,2061166,15310 Sep 0418 May 09No

Chapter One: A New Start

Author’s Note: Took me a while but I’m finally back with the next chapter. Hope you all like it. Just be warned that I don’t have a beta so there might be a mistake or two. Anyone wanting to use the prologue as a beginning to your own fan fic is welcome to, just make sure to give me credit and let me know so I can read it. ^_^



Thanks to Twinnie, rickW22, Saint Maverick, David, and Iceflame for your reviews.



 


Crossworlds (DBZ style)


Chapter One: A New Start


By Delphine Pryde


Rated PG-13


E-mail: DelphinePryde@aol.com







"I came to this land to protect you.


I was born to meet you.


The moment I wake,


Prisms start to spin around me.


I'm here now to love you.


I was born to hold you.


Lies and truths...


All lies within me.”


- “Successful Mission,” Hayashibara Megumi



Black hair, wild and falling in every which way, reached almost all the way to the figure’s waist. A single brown-furred tail curled and uncurled, lazily. Buffy paused in her movement in front of the mirror. It might be interesting to have a tail. Judging from the muscles on her counterpart’s body, she’d still be a fighter. Well, why not? With a shrug, Buffy stepped through the mirror and everything went black.



A cool, wet cloth was being placed on her forehead with gentleness. Instinctively, Buffy grabbed her caretaker’s hand by the wrist. “Oh!” cried out a surprised female voice.


Black eyes opened letting the transformed Buffy, get her first look at her new world. She was in a bedroom. An empty desk was placed on the opposite from the green sheeted bed she was lying in. Pictures hung on the walls in simple silver frames. Most were of a black haired, wide eyed child, while some where of a young man that could have been the same child as an adult, and the last were of the child with what could only be his parents, a man with untamed black hair and kind, ebony eyes and a women that had silky, jet black hair pulled into a bun. Finally, Buffy looked at the owner of the wrist she was holding. It was the same woman that was in the pictures only older, judging from the gray that was mixed in with the black hair pulled into a bun. Crows feet cornered dark eyes that were inset in a sorrow filled and weathered face. Her figure, though no longer young, was kept in shaped judging from the muscles poorly hidden under the plain, scarlet red Japanese dress. It was easy to see that while she had aged gracefully, time had not been kind to this woman.


Flushing in embarrassment, Buffy released her. The woman rubbed her bruised wrist to get the blood flowing again. Wincing at the damage she’d caused to a perfectly kind person, Buffy said, “I’m sorry.”


The woman waved off the apology. “I should know by now how trigger happy Saiyan-jins are.”


“What is a Saiyan-jin?” Buffy wondered.


“You don’t know?” The woman’s eyes softened. “You poor girl, that bump on your head must have given you amnesia.”


Puzzled, Buffy raised her hand to her head, feeling for any damage. She hissed in pain as she brushed across a particularly sensitive bruise hidden under her mass of hair, just above the back of her neck. She opened her mouth to tell the woman that she didn’t have amnesia, but thinking better of it said nothing. If she pretended to have amnesia, she might be able to get away with not knowing much about the world she was in.


Giving a sad look, she asked, “Do you know who I am?”


“I am afraid not. I found you not to far from here, passed out.”


“Oh.” Buffy gave a fake disappointed look. “Well then, who are you?”


“Oops, I forgot to introduce myself.” The woman gave a quick bow. “I am Chichi Son. Welcome to my home.”


Feeling that following local customs would be best, Buffy stood up quickly and bowed back. “Thank you for having me.”


Giving a thoughtful look, Chichi asked, “So don’t remember anything, not even you name?”


“No…”


“Then I suppose we should start off by giving you a temporary name.” She paused, thinking. “Saiyan-jins are generally named after vegetables and since you are one-”


“Uh, no,” Buffy cut her off, not wanting to even go down that alley. Changing the subject, she said, “You never explained to me what a Saiyan-jin was.”


So Chichi told her about the powerful race of tailed warriors, from their known beginning to their civilizations end by the cruel alien Frieza. Chichi then went on to give Buffy a short history lesson about the world she was on, including the fact that the woman’s deceased husband had been a Saiyan-jin. The story about the androids Seventeen and Eighteen struck Buffy hard; it reminded her about the Frankenstein creation Adam. At least they had already been defeated, so she wouldn’t have to fight them.


“…and so I’m afraid you and Trunks are the only ones with Saiyan-jin blood alive.”


Buffy remained silent as she digested all that she had learned. It seemed that the planet Chikyu-sei, though at peace now, would more than likely require a protector in the future. Sure there was the demi-Saiyan-jin Trunks, but as Buffy knew very well, fighting alone was much harder than when you had someone with you.


“I think I know a good name for you,” Chichi said. “Shori, it means ‘victory’ and if there is one thing I’ve learned about Saiyan-jins is that the need to be victorious is strong in whatever walk of life.”


“Shori,” the former Slayer repeated and then nodded. “I like it. From now on the world will know me as Shori. But don’t I need to fill out papers or something? Oh, I’ll need a family name as well.”


“I have a friend who can take care of any paper work. Considering how many documents have been destroyed, creating a new identity shouldn’t be too hard. Now about your last name, I would be pleased if you would take mine. I have always wanted a daughter.”


Unsure about how she felt about the prospect of a second mother, Shori said, “I would be honored.”


Smiling the woman drew her out the door and down the hall towards the master bedroom. “Then come, Shori, let us find you some thing better to wear. Running around in my nightgown won’t do at all. I think I have some of my training outfits from my younger days somewhere around here.”



Flying was one of the few ways Trunks Briefs could get away from the pressures of every day life in a post-apocalyptic world. He had finally finished helping to rebuild Peppermint Town and had left the surviving inhabitants to get settled into a life without having to worry about whether they’d be killed by rampaging androids or not. Though looking forward to returning home, Trunks decided to stop by the Son house to check upon his former mentor’s mother. With her son, husband, and father all dead Chichi Son lived alone. His mother, Bulma, had tried to get the widow to come live with them at Capsule Corporation. Stubbornly, Chichi had refused, wanting to stay in the house that her husband had built for her.


When he finally came to the Son house, he landed on front porch and knocked on the door. When the door opened, it wasn’t Chichi standing in the frame. He found himself breathless at the vision before him.
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