Chapter 1: Fantasies

As the sun sank into the horizon, an orange and pink glow tinged the sky. The last buttery rays of the sunset were extending themselves above the hills, like sleepy children with raised arms, as if to say goodbye to the earth until the next day. Wispy clouds streaked the canvas, and as the night got progressively darker the stars began to twinkle in the distance. A soft breeze kept the air comfortably cool. Tree branches swayed gently. Crickets chirped a pleasant serenade. The world was at peace.

Crash! Except in a small wooden home, located in the southwestern district of a forested continent. There, a full-fledged ruckus was taking place. Pots and pans clanged against each other noisily in a steamy kitchen. Voices could be heard bellowing from upstairs. There was also the sound of water splashing and running feet. Dinner was being prepared, and it was a noisy occasion as usual.

Of course, the food was always worth the cacophony. Upon a rectangular table in the living room, a beauteous, three-foot, glazed fish rested on a silver platter, surrounded by bowls of white rice, vegetables, and noodles. Each seat had its own ivy-lined placemat, a thick, round plate, shiny silverware, and spotless glass. Nothing was beyond the inspection of the woman who had arranged it all. Her purple kerchief had given way to a few tangled bangs and her apron was smeared with grease, but after she wiped a bead of sweat from her brow she smiled. Everything was perfect. She shouted through the ceiling, "Dinneeeeeeer!"

Hurried steps rumbled down the stairs, accompanied by laughter and chattering. A small boy and two tall men promptly entered the kitchen and took their places at the table, breathing in the wafting scents of the cooked food. The little boy giggled with excitement, tugging on one of the men's shirt sleeves and pointing eagerly at the fish. The other man put his hands on his hips and admired the sight. "It looks fabulous, ChiChi!" He offered the woman a slightly lopsided grin. Chichi smiled in return.

"It's your favorite—roasted haddock in a butter garlic marinade. I've been basting it for nearly 3 hours now, so it should be nice and juicy. Of course, it didn't hurt that you happened to catch it earlier."

"Yeah, but that's the easy part. No fish raw tastes as good as one that's been under the broiler!" Goku (that was the man's name) smacked his lips and pulled his chair out. As he grabbed his fork and knife, he exclaimed, "Well, what are we all waiting for? Gohan, Goten—come on and dig in! Eat the fish while it's warm!"

The brothers didn't need to be told twice. Fast as lightning, they got in their chairs and started dueling for the best pieces of meat, jabbing each other with their forks. Goku had already gotten a substantial helping of fish onto his plate and was digging in gratuitously. Chichi sat at the head of the table, smiling sweetly at the scene of her happy family. Noisy and barbaric as they could be, she loved them. And, for the first time in years, they were together. Finally, ChiChi thought.

It had hardly been six months since the defeat of Majin Buu. For the umpteenth time, ChiChi witnessed as her husband, Son Goku, and his fellow Z warriors saved the Earth from devastation. She could hardly remember her own death – only that she had died and was eventually brought back to life. There had been horror at the prospect of either one of her babies dying, but somehow she managed to pull through, just as she had pulled through when Gohan had gone to Namek or fought Cell.

What she wasn't expecting following the battle was the return of her husband. Son Goku and she had been married for over two decades but had hardly been together for half of it. Goku was usually dead, training, eating, or sleeping. 'Twas the life of a warrior, she surmised. She fixed his meals, raised his children, cleaned his home… it was exactly what she had always wanted. Chichi's elbows slumped on the edge of the kitchen table as she gazed absent-mindedly at her gorging boys. Was it what she wanted?

She could recall carefree days as the princess of the Ox-King. Her father's kingdom was large and his subjects respected her. Most of the time, she wandered through the forests along the perimeter of the castle grounds. She liked to hunt small animals for game or collect interesting looking rocks, but her favorite thing to do was visit the storyteller.

The elderly woman lived secluded in a small cabin about a mile off from the Ox-King's castle. Her home was filled with all sorts of mysterious herbs and trinkets. ChiChi remembered how wary she had been the first time she had knocked on the door. A bough of wild corn and dried flowers had been shoved into her arms and the old witch had demanded, "Quick, bury these in the ground!"

"Why-?" ChiChi had started to ask, but the witch cut her off.

"Not time for questions! Just do it!"

So, ChiChi dug a hole in a soft plot of dirt using the tip of her boot, then dropped the corn and flora into it. When she had covered the plot back up with dirt, she realized the witch had gone back inside the house. She had left the door a smidgen open, so ChiChi decided to enter. Inside, a dense ruby fog had filled the room; it smelled of lavender and mint. While ChiChi could hardly see through the dense miasma, she could hear the old woman's voice muttering words in a foreign language. As ChiChi approached, she saw the crone had a cauldron bubbling. She had heard terrible things about witches from her nursemaids, but she was too curious to leave at this point.

"Welcome child," the witch cooed. "Welcome to my humble home of magic and whimsy. If I read the lines of your face correctly, you are the noble offspring of the local Ox-King, yes?"

Young ChiChi gasped. How did this woman know who she was? The crone chuckled.

"Don't be afraid, child. I know lots of things without asking. Part of it is magic; part of it's age." She offered ChiChi a wide, toothless grin. "Tell me something I don't know – what is your name?"

ChiChi reluctantly replied. The woman's grin broadened.

"ChiChi…It means milk, doesn't it? Sweet and warm. How suitable for a girl of your demeanor. What brings you to my abode, Lady ChiChi?"

ChiChi blushed. She rarely heard her name spoken. Most people simply referred to her as "Princess" or "Ox-King's daughter." She liked the gentleness with which the crone emphasized both Chis. Drawn to her, ChiChi answered, "I am searching for my handsome prince."

"A prince?" the crone cackled. "And a handsome one no less? Well, you certainly found the opposite of that. Are you disappointed, dear?" The woman gave her a sly grin.

"No, not really." ChiChi shrugged. "I've been looking for a long time, but usually I don't find anything. I suppose an old witch is better than nothing at all."

The old woman chuckled. "You have a worthy attitude, my dear. Tell me, how old are you?"

"Eleven," ChiChi admitted shyly.

"Eleven and already on the prowl for true love!"

"My nana has told me lots of stories about princes," Chichi suddenly burst with excitement. She felt it was very easy to talk to the crone. "They are tall and dashing and they save beautiful girls in distress from dragons and evil wizards!"

"Oh? Is that so?"

"Yes! And at the end of every fairytale the prince marries the princess and they live happily ever after." ChiChi felt proud at how well versed she was in her folk stories.

The old witch nodded solemnly, but did not say anything for several long moments. Suddenly, she snapped her fingers and all the floating, magical fog disappeared. ChiChi could see the outline of the furniture and other articles of the room more distinctly now. In the corner, there was a rocking chair. The old woman beckoned ChiChi to it.

"Lady ChiChi," she murmured, "I am going to tell you a story that will even give your old nana a run for her gold pence. Listen carefully if you may."

So, ChiChi kneeled at the feet of the crone as she rehearsed a tale very similar to the ones she had heard before. A beautiful princess lived in a beautiful castle in a beautiful kingdom. All her subjects worshipped her and the king doted on her constantly. One day, however, a terrible dragon swept down upon the kingdom and snatched the princess right from her balcony window. The king and his subjects were in a state of terrible distress. A rally was held to urge all the knights of the castle to take their turn at fighting the beast. One by one, they went to the dragon's lair – and, one by one, they returned with broken bones, open wounds, and swollen bruises. Despondency fell upon the kingdom as it seemed no one would be able to save the princess fair.

But then one day, a knight from a visiting kingdom appeared. From head to toe, the knight was covered in glittering mail and armor. Before the king, the knight declared, "Upon my honor, your highness, I will retrieve your princess and slay the dragon beast." At this point, the king's hopes were all but lost. Casually, he granted the knight permission to enter the dragon's lair, but with little hope of even seeing the fighter again.

So, the foreigner entered the dragon's cove and discovered the imprisoned princess. The dragon was a ferocious monster, to say the least, but the knight was brave and determined. As the beast swung its scaly tail, the knight dodged. When the beast released a burst of hot flame from its mouth, the knight deftly rolled past it. When the beast roared, the knight wielded his shield against the thunderous waves. The battle was one of attrition, but as the knight waltzed around the dragon's attacks, the beasts grew more and more weary. Eventually, the dragon could not even stand on its own four claws and toppled to the ground, allowing the knight to drive a blade through its skull. The princess was finally saved!

Of course, the princess was instantly smitten with her rescuer and demanded the knight remove his helmet. While the prince protested at first, the princess's stubbornness eventually forced him to cave into her demands. Slowly, he lifted the helmet off with both hands—but when his face appeared it was revealed that the knight was not a he, but a she!

"What!" ChiChi suddenly interrupted the story. "That's not how it goes. A knight is always a boy and a princess is always a girl!"

The witch shook her head. "Not so! In this story, both the princes and the knight are female. And after the princess's surprise wears off, they both fall in love and get married. And," the witch grinned, "they live happily ever after."

"I have never heard such a silly story!" ChiChi protested, giving the crone a childish glare. She stood up and promptly exited the witch's dwelling, intending never to return to such a nonsensical place again.

But ChiChi did return—many times. Each time she returned, she had the old woman tell her a new story about the same princess and knight. Their adventures grew wilder over time, as the sailed the seas together and trekked deadly deserts and scaled towering mountains. And while ChiChi never shook the fantasy of falling in love with an indubitably masculine hero, neither did she shake the tempting fantasy of a daring knight-ess. She too couldn't help but notice that each time she returned to the crone's hut, a sapling was growing ever taller where she had planted the corn and the flowers. She wasn't entirely sure what kind of sapling it was, what fruit it would bear, or why the witch had wanted her to plant it, but she had a fondness for the little plant as it always reminded her of the witch's kindness to her.

Since she married Goku and gave birth to her two boys, the crone had passed away. The last time she saw her was shortly before the 23rd World Martial Arts Tournament. She remembered the crone being in a state of unusual grumpiness. She had told her no stories, failed to wish her luck at the competition, and sent her away early, claiming her joints were aching too badly for company. ChiChi often wondered if the crone's disappointment in her marrying Goku was the cause of her death. She knew the witch disapproved of the match since she had met him as a girl, but she never realized to what extent the crone felt spurned. She had always gone back once a year to honor the witch's grave (conveniently right next to the hut), to annually replace her gift of corn and dried flowers. She couldn't help but notice at these times that her sapling was now a tree, but not nearly as tall or green as it had promised to be in her youth.

Clatter! ChiChi was drawn out of her reverie as her boys noisily backed out of their chairs and dropped their silverware gruffly on their plates. "Thanks for dinner, ChiChi!" Goku waved his arm at her as they walked off. "We're off to wash up now."

"Huh?—oh, okay!" ChiChi said, a bit startled. She stared at the table now that everyone had finished eating. The beautiful fish she had spent hours tending to was now a pile of sad looking bones. Only tiny leaves of broccoli and grains of rice remained at the bottom of the bowls. The clean plates and silverware were covered with remnants of dinner, and the placemats needed a good rinsing. ChiChi sighed. She could hardly restrain her tears when Goku announced he would be home for good after Majin Buu's defeat. She would finally have the family she had always dreamed of having!

But somehow that dream faded as meal after long-prepared meal, she was left with mess to scrub and clean. The piles of smelly, sweat-soaked laundry never seemed to disappear, even as she spent all day soaking them and wringing them dry. The bathrooms were persistently messy. The vestibule floor always needed a mopping. And even after she and Goku made love at nights, all she could think about was his incessant snoring.

Was this the life she really imagined for herself? She had her rescuer, but where was the adventure, the passion, the long lasting bliss? And why was it those hard packed muscles and ripped abs of her lover no longer set her aflame? In fact, ChiChi began to wonder, did they ever truly ignite her? She buried her face in her hands—there were too many conflicting thoughts at once. She gave too much credence to the silly stories of a witch from her childhood. She was letting them infiltrate her reality.

Or perhaps she'd never given them credence enough.

Chapter 2 to come…

~Fina Arvanthol