Piccolo's eyes widened as she saw her life flash before her eyes as Bulma drove at ridiculously high speeds, cursing all the while. Her hands were gripping the sides of her chair as she leaned back into the seat, trying desperately to not scream or voice any sound of protest. However, Piccolo had been to drivers training and knew the way Bulma was driving was not only fast but reckless as the car speed through red lights and turned corners in tight turns, nearly flipping the car over as it lost contact with the road with two of the tires.

Piccolo closed her eyes as she clenched her teeth together, forcing back the scream that threatened to burst forth as she felt her body being tugged suddenly and violently to one side as Bulma took another turn.

Memories of long ago assailed her mind, from when he had first been born and had discovered himself all alone with the knowledge and memories of his father his only clue as to why he even existed. He remembered his first actions being to explore those memories, to find out what awaited him in this world... Only to see mass murder and torture done to thousands, maybe millions of humans at his fathers claws. To feel the overwhelming anger and hatred that had permeated that soul, to feel the utter disgust and revulsion it had towards it's counterpart, the Kami of Earth. And, weirdly enough, a deep feeling of betrayal and sadness hidden below the disgust, revulsion, hate, and anger, all directed back at the very being that had deemed it needful to throw away this part of a whole, never once regretting it, to shun this part of itself.

And he had felt the overwhelming need of his father's to make Kami feel the exact same betrayal he felt. And the only way the crazed half-soul could think to do that other than causing himself to die was to cause pain to those his other half protected.

That was when the true horrors had begun. Whole cities burned alive, the butchering of an infant in front of the very eyes of it's parents, playing a cruel games of cat and mouse with anyone that dared to resist him after murdering their loved ones.

And then had come the long years trapped inside the Denshi jar. Slowly going insane with boredom. Having the prime years of his life stripped away while confined to a dimension of infinite darkness, with no hope of getting out. And still having that terrible hate and need for revenge towards the Kami. Wanting, NEEDING to strike back.

And then the day had finally come and he had been released from that Kami damned jar. Only to find out that his body had aged and become decrepit, with not even one sixteenth of his original power remained.

Then he had remembered about the dragon balls. Oh, what a delicious irony that would be! Using his counter parts own creation to restore himself to his youth!

And the rest, you could say, was a known story.

Pine squeezed her eyes shut as another scathing profanity that she had never heard before left Bulma's lips. Oh, was she ever late...

*---*---*---*---*

Pine handed the slip of paper to the teacher with her head held high as she refused to feel ashamed for Bulma not letting her fly to school. Why couldn't she?! Gohan did it everyday, dang it, and the boy was for Dende's sake four years younger than her biologically, thousands of years mentally.

[And Gohan got caught and ended up having to teach that bitch to fly. Well, actually I had to. Do I really want to waste my time having to explain myself to these ignorant idiots?]

Pine glanced quickly around the room then back to the teacher who was giving her a speech on how important it was to be punctual.

[No. Why is that Videl girl always staring at Gohan anyhow? It makes me want to strangle the little bitch. He's MINE!] Pine blinked. [Where in the name of Kaiou-shin did THAT come from?]

Pine blinked startled as the teacher's voice changed into an annoying high pitched tone as he screamed bloody murder. Focussing on the teacher she noticed that she had his wrist in a vise like grip and it felt as if given just a hair more pressure she would break it. Apparently she had spaced out and he had noticed and waved his hand in front of her face, causing her to reflexively grab his wrist and squeeze gently. Well, at least gently for her.

Quickly she let go of his hand and crossed both of her arms over her chest in her usual position. Well, at least she hadn't lost her edge...

*---*---*---*---*

Pine looked up from under the bill of her school baseball cap. Why, again, did she have to wear the stupid thing? She briefly considered tearing the stupid thing off, but decided it would be too much effort on her part. After all, every one else was being forced to wear the stupid thing to, even Gohan.

Apparently wearing head gear when outside was a weird rule humans had. Not that she was one to complain, after all, she had been wearing a turban for almost every minute of her life. But then again, there had been a training reason behind wearing the weighted piece of clothing.

Pine winced a little as a shrill noise less than four meters away punctured her sensitive hearing. Again. She was on the side lines, waiting for her turn at bat, and it seemed to her that the school coach was just a little to found of his noise making device called a whistle. Every chance the stupid prat had, he was blowing on the damn thing, making it sound, to Pine at least, that she was experiencing Frieeza's ship flying over head repeatedly.

Although at that time she hadn't shown it to the other's, when Frieeza's ship had flown over head with Frieeza and King Cold inside, the noise of the heated object hurtling through the atmosphere had made him want to fall to her knee's screaming in agony. In fact, the pain had been so immense, she had bitten through her bottom lip while trying not to scream in pain.

And now, just like then, she had pierced the skin with her sharp fangs and two thin streams of red-purplish blood were trickling down her face to her pointed chin to drip silently unnoticed onto the grass.

Another sharp whistle brought her attention back to reality as she jerked. [Kaiou-shin above, if I lose my hearing because of that asshole, I'm going to ask Dende to try dropping anvils on him for a day.] She snickered slightly to herself. Although dropping anvils was kind of childish, Dende had watched a few too many Bugs Bunny cartoons while watching over some kids and insisted on using this method with what he termed 'bad people'. Seeing that the child was adamant, Piccolo had hesitantly agreed with him, after extracting the promise that Dende would not be aiming at the person but at the ground in the person's general vicinity.

"Daimao! Your up," hollered the coach.

Standing up sharply from where the end of the bench in the dug out, Pine whipped her lower face off with her sleeve and went to retrieve a bat.

Stepping up to the plate, Pine looked over at the coach out of the corner of her eye. Ah, or perhaps she could get back at him right now...

As one of the opposing teams players pitched the ball at his fastest, Pine angled the bat just 'so' as she connected with the ball, using the smallest fraction of her speed in swinging the bat. After all, she didn't want to KILL the guy...

She nearly crowed in delight as the ball arched off and flew right at the coach, who was looking down at his clipboard at that precise moment so he never saw what hit him.

--To be Continued.