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RIP Akira Toriyama. The legend of your being will never be forgotten.


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This article, Depiction in Red, is the property of AkurnaSkulblaka.

Companion read to Sleep My Gohan, it is advised that you read that after this.

Depiction in Red[]

Her hands shook as she tried to carefully pull apart the blades of the vibrant pink razor, hissing when she nicked one of her fingers. Chichi let out a humorless chuckle as she watched the blood seep from the infinitesimal cut.

She never wanted to go this far. It had always been her anger that got her into the erroneous situations she seemed to frequently find herself in. And woe to the one who had the naiveté to prod her abundance of anger, for they would surely find themselves facing a most formidable opponent. But lately her anger had been slowly but surely turning into an unrelenting sorrow. Goku. Why didn't he come back? Why did he have to protect the earth by leaving her and their growing children behind? Chichi should have known what she was getting herself into when she began meddling with a man with heroic tendencies. But frankly, with the love they had built, she thought that perhaps he would pick her over the world. Literally.

Unfortunately, he didn't pick her over the world. And here she was, seeking solace from a blade.


An angry Chichi

Chichi quickly licked off the small droplet of blood and continued pulling apart the razor. When she finally managed to get one of the metal slivers from the pink contraption, she carefully pressed the razorblade to the light, delicate skin of the underside of her forearm. With a slight pressure she slowly slid the blade across her arm, relishing in the pain the cool metal inflicted. She watched as the scarlet liquid seeped from the wound, down her arm, and dripped off to the white tile floor, strangely resembling red paint on a piece of starch white paper.

Placing the blade to her arm she, with more pressure this time, she once again slid the blade along the width of her wrist. Chichi watched as the white slit leisurely filled with blood and poured out. Cutting another slice into her arm her eyes widened as she saw that this cut was not as insignificant as the others she had done. It was about an inch wide and three inches long and was seeping blood very quickly. As she looked upon the rivulets of crimson fluid she suddenly had a desire to taste the blood. She licked the length of her arm, cringing slightly as her rough tongue slid across the edges of the wounds. The taste was wonderful, the slight coppery tang slid across her taste buds like the rarest of delicacies.

Chichi knew that what she was doing was dangerous. She might have some semblance of control, but one day she might just not have the control to stop herself from going too far, too deep. One day she might just kill herself.

She finally came down from her self-induced high, and quickly cleaned herself and the surrounding area of any traces of blood. She wrapped up her mutilated arm with gauze that she had in her bathroom, and put on a jacket, grateful for the cold that gave her an excuse to wear it. She threw away the bloody rags and hiding the razorblade, she walked out of her room.

"Hey Mom," her son Gohan said, completely oblivious to her recent doings.

"Hello Darling," Chichi said "I'm going over to the grocery store to get some things okay, love you." She added, and opening the door walked out into the sunlight, as if nothing ever happened…

"Mom!" She turned and saw her son standing at the doorway.

"I love you so much, just know that." Her son said.

"I love you too." Chichi said, and walking away, she realized just how close she'd come, to rescinding her life.

I know it's a little morbid but I just felt like all the writing I have is happy so I just decided to write an angsty one-shot, hope you liked, please review!

AkurnaSkulblaka signing off!