"Stupid boy, can't you get anything right?!? Get out of here!" The
restaurant owner bellowed loudly in the teen's face. The boy was no older
than seventeen, with short but thick black hair that fell around his face
in spikes. He was fairly tall and well-built, but very clumsy. And
unusually strong. Still he set his jaw in a grim expression and stared
right back at his aggressor.
"Fine. I'll go." He said evenly. There was a time when he would have gotten angry at the man. When he would have tried to hurt him, and probably succeeded too. But he knew better now. That kind of stuff only brought him trouble. So instead he simply shrugged off his apron. The boy thrust it into his former employer's hand, and stalked out of the kitchen. He was careful to step over the mess of broken plates and food he'd made when he tripped over some liquid on the floor. A few people watched his retreating back until he was out the door.
Once away from sight, the boy leaned against a heavy brick wall. His breathing grew rapid as he felt his temper flare. 'Calm down, Gobo. Calm down.' He chanted to himself in his mind. (A/N Okay, I know, his name is REALLY strange. But I actually got it a logical way. See, Goku's Dad was named 'Bardock', which is a variation of 'Burdock', which is a type of vegetable. The Japanese name for the edible kind of burdock is 'Gobo'. *Shrug* I like it better than 'Pete' or 'Joe', so let's live with it, 'kay?) Gobo raised a hand up to his forehead and rubbed his temples lightly. He didn't know where he got his temper from, but he sure wished he could ship it back there. It would make life a lot easier. Although right now he had a lot more to worry about than the prospect of loosing it and throwing a fit. He had no job! What was he supposed to do now? "Great! Now how can I face Grandma?" Gobo wondered angrily. His Grandma was old, and no matter how spirited she was, it still didn't stop her from getting sick. If he couldn't pay for her medicine, she would… He shook his head. 'No. I'll find another job, another way! I won't let this happen. Grandma's all I've got left!" Gobo told himself firmly. She was the only person who remained of his family. Even though he didn't really believe a lot of her stories about what had become of his other relatives. Gobo figured his grandmother had gone a little senile in her old age, and invented stories to comfort herself. Sometimes he pretended that they were real to himself, just to make him feel better. He thought about them now as he dredged his way home through the alley-ways.
His Grandma always told him this impossible tale, of how his Grandfather had been a mighty warrior from another planet. Maybe his Grandpa WAS from another world. After all, the aliens who had taken over earth were. But Gobo sincerely doubted that he was a hero. His Grandma would say how he saved the world, and how Gobo's father, Gohan, was a hero too. She always talked about him destroying blood-cells or something like that. Then she'd go on about his uncle Goten, or his sister Pan, or their friends who owned some place called Capsule Corp. Gobo was fairly certain that most of that was made-up; after all, according to his Grandma, everyone there had either been named after underwear or called something like 'Vegetable'. When he was little he believed her, but around here you grew up fast, and fairy-tales didn't last long.
Although he DID believe what she said happened to them. Many people were taken prisoner by the aliens when they came. It didn't seem so insane to him that when they came, they kidnapped his family for experiments. Lots of people had a similar story. What he couldn't believe was that those they kidnapped were still alive. Or that if they were, they were sane at all. Gobo had a few short childhood memories. They came to him in nightmares sometimes. Fire, and screaming. It had happened fifteen years ago. He remembered a woman thrusting him into his grandmother's arms and shouting 'run'. There had been a blue-haired lady with them too. But the aliens got her as well. Gobo remembered hiding in the dark for a very long time. That was the only piece of his past that he was certain was true.
As he neared the large complex of apartments that he lived in, Gobo passed a young girl lying on the street. He quickly looked away when he saw her blank eyes wide open, and the gash along her throat. 'Look away, just look away…' He told himself. When the aliens took over, they put all the humans into confined spaces deep inside the cities. Well, all the humans they didn't round up from experiments initially. Everyone was tagged with these tracker units that kept them within their area. If you left your area, the units released a poison into your system that killed you in seconds. So people stayed put or died. But there was a lot of crime. A lot of anger that humanity took out on itself. It was the sad truth of the matter. 'You don't know it was a human that killed her. Could've been one of THEM…' Gobo thought to himself. Sometimes a group of aliens would ride in, on these vehicles that made incredibly loud noises. They had massive guns, or sometimes knives. One of the aliens would pick you out on the street, and then the hunt would be on. They'd chase you. They always caught you eventually; Their vehicles were too fast for them not to. And when at last they had you, all you could do was pray that they ONLY decided to kill you.
Gobo made his way inside the building. He pushed past the smell of liquor, blood, drugs and piss, as well as the people that carried the scents and climbed the rickety staircase. There was no railing on it. One time he'd actually fallen, when he was ten or twelve. Gobo never did find out why his skull didn't crack open when it hit the concrete floor. This time he reached the top without suffering a bought of clumsiness. He and his Grandma lived on the highest level of the building, and it always took him a long time to climb the stairs up the fourteen floors. But he did it, everyday like clockwork.
Gobo made his way down five doors to his own. Reaching in his pocket, he pulled out his key and forced open the heavy door. His Grandma had made it out of three other doors, after 'claiming' them from rooms who's occupants hadn't made it. At first the door had been used to keep young Gobo safe while she went to work. Not the tables were reversed. Gobo closed the door shut behind him carefully, being sure to lock it. Inside the little apartment things were very different than outside. The whole place smelled fresh and clean. It was completely spotless; His Grandma wouldn't have stood for it any other way. Gobo took off his shoes and hung his cota up on the wall. The floor had no carpet, but there wasn't a speck of dust or garbage on it. Right in front of the door was a small living-room/kitchen. It was basically a small, square room with a table, chairs, a fridge, a stove, and a small radio. Nothing was big or fancy, but everything was well-kept. A door at the back of the room lead to the single bedroom. It had two mats on the floor and a plastic box full of clothes and a few precious books. Right next to the bedroom was a bathroom, consisting of a simply shower, a sink, and a toilet. Considering the state of the world, Gobo knew he lived very well. And he knew he had his Grandma's cleaning skills to thank for that.
"Gohan!" His Grandmother exclaimed from her seat at the small table. Gobo sighed.
"No, Grandma, I'm Gobo. Gohan was my Dad." He said matter-of- factly. It wasn't that she forgot he existed; It was that she was old, and he knew he looked a lot like his father. 'It must be easy for her to just pretend everything never happened.' Gobo thought to himself sadly. ChiChi smiled at him warmly.
"Oh, of course!" She said. Then she closed her eyes and shook her head, as if trying to banish something away. Gobo looked at her carefully. 'Maybe it isn't easy after all. Maybe it's hard, to keep hoping my Dad will walk through that door instead of me.' He decided. But then ChiChi stood up, and came over to hug him. "I'm sorry dear. How was your day?" She asked instead. Gobo's heart hit the floor. It was just one blow after another, although he knew she didn't mean it.
"I-I lost my job again, Grandma." He said softly. She pulled back and looked at him, a light in her eyes.
"Well, then they don't know who they fired! You just take me down there, and I'll give them a piece of my mind…" ChiChi began. But then stopped as she erupted into a coughing fit. Gobo sighed and carried her over to a chair. He carefully sat her on it and took the one across. Her fits had been getting more and more frequent lately. ChiChi stopped coughing after a few minutes. She looked at the ground dejectedly. He hated it when she got like this; It was horrible to see someone with so much life being slowly drained away. As she recovered, he got up and went over to the fridge. For some reason Gobo needed a ton of food. His Grandma thought it was perfectly normal that he ate about twenty times as much as everyone else, but he hated it. Food burned money faster than fire in his house. After a few minutes deliberation, he pulled out a few pre- cooked chickens and some side dished to heat up. ChiChi saw what he was doing and she laughed.
"Your Grandfather always liked my chicken best too. You're just like him, always digging through the fridge. Here, let me warm it for you." She said, standing up and shooing him away. Gobo let her. He knew that what his Grandma needed, even more than medicine sometimes, was to feel like she was taking care of him. She had probably taken care of his whole family before the aliens came. And she was a better cook than him, even though he was far from being bad. "You go and study, Gobo." ChiChi said. He sighed and nodded. She was always telling him to study his books, to get smart so he could change the world. That was how she thought they would make life better; By getting smart. Sometimes it could get frustrating, having to work and then study all day. But what else could he do? It wasn't like he could fight all the aliens or anything! So he went and got his books from the chest, and sat down at the table to re-read certain parts, and try and figure something else out. They were thick books, and some he hadn't even finished yet. They had belonged to his father. As he read, his grandmother hummed away at the stove. Her grey was bundled up in a tight bun, and her weathered face bore a smile. Gobo focused on the words on the page, but soon he found his own exhaustion creeping up on him. Slowly the words drew closer and closer, and the humming sound of his grandmother faded farther away. Gobo's eyes drooped shut as he fell asleep against his books.
There was fire all around, as well as twisted metal and the sounds of shouts. Gobo held onto the arms that held him tightly, his brown eyes peering out fearfully at the sight around him. He looked up into the clear blue eyes and lovely face of his mother, which was now set in a grim expression. "Who are they, Gohan?" She asked. A strong male voice answered her from a place Gobo couldn't see. He looked over his mother's shoulder and looked at all the people there. His Grandmother, the blue- haired lady, a girl who looked just like her, his big sister, a man with purple hair, his uncle Goten, a shorter looking man with flame-like hair, two blonde ladies, one who looked older than the other, a young man with dark skin and a black mohawk, a very short bald man, and a tall green man. They all looked vaguely familiar to him. Suddenly there was a crash behind him. As Gobo watched, a whole bunch of the people flew up off the ground towards the sound of the crash. His mother thrust him into his Grandma's hands as his sister flew forward as well. "Run!" She told ChiChi. Then she too flew off. Gobo cried for his mother as his grandmother and the blue-haired lady raced away. Then suddenly there was a shout, and his Grandma whipped around as a mechanical snake coiled around the other woman.
"Bulma!" She shouted. Then he eyes widened as she darted aside, barely avoiding a similar machine. Another one zipped out to grab her, but there was a large flash as a bolt of energy smashed into it. The machine burst apart. Gobo looked up and saw his father, floating in the air. His hair was a deep golden colour, and stood high atop his head. Gohan's eyes, once brown, were now a vibrant turquoise.
"Mom, hurry, find cover!" He told them.
"…Daddy?" Gobo whispered. As his Grandma carried him away in search of shelter, he saw his father and a few others go after the machine that took the other lady. But soon there were to many machines. He watched in horror as dozens of metal claws began to wrap around his father, his mother, his uncle, and sister, and everyone else. Tears streamed down his cheeks, and he reached an arm out to them, before his Grandmother pulled them into hiding…
"Gobo!" A loud voice said. He shot straight up, eyes wide and blinking at the sound of his Grandma's angry voice.
"Honestly, how do you expect to learn if you keep falling asleep?" She demanded, lowering a plate full of hot food down in front of him. He sighed and raised a hand to scratch the back of his head, preparing an excuse. But when ChiChi saw the gesture, her features softened. A few traces of water appeared in her eyes. She shook her head. "…Nevermind. Here, you eat up and get strong. Studying can come later." ChiChi told him. Gobo wasn't sure what he'd done to calm her down, but it had worked very well. With a shrug he started in on the food. As he ate, he got the feeling that he'd dreamed something important when he was asleep. But what was it? All he could recall was the fire, and being put in his Grandma's arms. Just like always. So Gobo decided to drop it, and think about getting his new job. That was when he heard his Grandmother gasp for breath and saw her collapse…
(A/N: Any suggestions for a better title are welcome. Please review!)
"Fine. I'll go." He said evenly. There was a time when he would have gotten angry at the man. When he would have tried to hurt him, and probably succeeded too. But he knew better now. That kind of stuff only brought him trouble. So instead he simply shrugged off his apron. The boy thrust it into his former employer's hand, and stalked out of the kitchen. He was careful to step over the mess of broken plates and food he'd made when he tripped over some liquid on the floor. A few people watched his retreating back until he was out the door.
Once away from sight, the boy leaned against a heavy brick wall. His breathing grew rapid as he felt his temper flare. 'Calm down, Gobo. Calm down.' He chanted to himself in his mind. (A/N Okay, I know, his name is REALLY strange. But I actually got it a logical way. See, Goku's Dad was named 'Bardock', which is a variation of 'Burdock', which is a type of vegetable. The Japanese name for the edible kind of burdock is 'Gobo'. *Shrug* I like it better than 'Pete' or 'Joe', so let's live with it, 'kay?) Gobo raised a hand up to his forehead and rubbed his temples lightly. He didn't know where he got his temper from, but he sure wished he could ship it back there. It would make life a lot easier. Although right now he had a lot more to worry about than the prospect of loosing it and throwing a fit. He had no job! What was he supposed to do now? "Great! Now how can I face Grandma?" Gobo wondered angrily. His Grandma was old, and no matter how spirited she was, it still didn't stop her from getting sick. If he couldn't pay for her medicine, she would… He shook his head. 'No. I'll find another job, another way! I won't let this happen. Grandma's all I've got left!" Gobo told himself firmly. She was the only person who remained of his family. Even though he didn't really believe a lot of her stories about what had become of his other relatives. Gobo figured his grandmother had gone a little senile in her old age, and invented stories to comfort herself. Sometimes he pretended that they were real to himself, just to make him feel better. He thought about them now as he dredged his way home through the alley-ways.
His Grandma always told him this impossible tale, of how his Grandfather had been a mighty warrior from another planet. Maybe his Grandpa WAS from another world. After all, the aliens who had taken over earth were. But Gobo sincerely doubted that he was a hero. His Grandma would say how he saved the world, and how Gobo's father, Gohan, was a hero too. She always talked about him destroying blood-cells or something like that. Then she'd go on about his uncle Goten, or his sister Pan, or their friends who owned some place called Capsule Corp. Gobo was fairly certain that most of that was made-up; after all, according to his Grandma, everyone there had either been named after underwear or called something like 'Vegetable'. When he was little he believed her, but around here you grew up fast, and fairy-tales didn't last long.
Although he DID believe what she said happened to them. Many people were taken prisoner by the aliens when they came. It didn't seem so insane to him that when they came, they kidnapped his family for experiments. Lots of people had a similar story. What he couldn't believe was that those they kidnapped were still alive. Or that if they were, they were sane at all. Gobo had a few short childhood memories. They came to him in nightmares sometimes. Fire, and screaming. It had happened fifteen years ago. He remembered a woman thrusting him into his grandmother's arms and shouting 'run'. There had been a blue-haired lady with them too. But the aliens got her as well. Gobo remembered hiding in the dark for a very long time. That was the only piece of his past that he was certain was true.
As he neared the large complex of apartments that he lived in, Gobo passed a young girl lying on the street. He quickly looked away when he saw her blank eyes wide open, and the gash along her throat. 'Look away, just look away…' He told himself. When the aliens took over, they put all the humans into confined spaces deep inside the cities. Well, all the humans they didn't round up from experiments initially. Everyone was tagged with these tracker units that kept them within their area. If you left your area, the units released a poison into your system that killed you in seconds. So people stayed put or died. But there was a lot of crime. A lot of anger that humanity took out on itself. It was the sad truth of the matter. 'You don't know it was a human that killed her. Could've been one of THEM…' Gobo thought to himself. Sometimes a group of aliens would ride in, on these vehicles that made incredibly loud noises. They had massive guns, or sometimes knives. One of the aliens would pick you out on the street, and then the hunt would be on. They'd chase you. They always caught you eventually; Their vehicles were too fast for them not to. And when at last they had you, all you could do was pray that they ONLY decided to kill you.
Gobo made his way inside the building. He pushed past the smell of liquor, blood, drugs and piss, as well as the people that carried the scents and climbed the rickety staircase. There was no railing on it. One time he'd actually fallen, when he was ten or twelve. Gobo never did find out why his skull didn't crack open when it hit the concrete floor. This time he reached the top without suffering a bought of clumsiness. He and his Grandma lived on the highest level of the building, and it always took him a long time to climb the stairs up the fourteen floors. But he did it, everyday like clockwork.
Gobo made his way down five doors to his own. Reaching in his pocket, he pulled out his key and forced open the heavy door. His Grandma had made it out of three other doors, after 'claiming' them from rooms who's occupants hadn't made it. At first the door had been used to keep young Gobo safe while she went to work. Not the tables were reversed. Gobo closed the door shut behind him carefully, being sure to lock it. Inside the little apartment things were very different than outside. The whole place smelled fresh and clean. It was completely spotless; His Grandma wouldn't have stood for it any other way. Gobo took off his shoes and hung his cota up on the wall. The floor had no carpet, but there wasn't a speck of dust or garbage on it. Right in front of the door was a small living-room/kitchen. It was basically a small, square room with a table, chairs, a fridge, a stove, and a small radio. Nothing was big or fancy, but everything was well-kept. A door at the back of the room lead to the single bedroom. It had two mats on the floor and a plastic box full of clothes and a few precious books. Right next to the bedroom was a bathroom, consisting of a simply shower, a sink, and a toilet. Considering the state of the world, Gobo knew he lived very well. And he knew he had his Grandma's cleaning skills to thank for that.
"Gohan!" His Grandmother exclaimed from her seat at the small table. Gobo sighed.
"No, Grandma, I'm Gobo. Gohan was my Dad." He said matter-of- factly. It wasn't that she forgot he existed; It was that she was old, and he knew he looked a lot like his father. 'It must be easy for her to just pretend everything never happened.' Gobo thought to himself sadly. ChiChi smiled at him warmly.
"Oh, of course!" She said. Then she closed her eyes and shook her head, as if trying to banish something away. Gobo looked at her carefully. 'Maybe it isn't easy after all. Maybe it's hard, to keep hoping my Dad will walk through that door instead of me.' He decided. But then ChiChi stood up, and came over to hug him. "I'm sorry dear. How was your day?" She asked instead. Gobo's heart hit the floor. It was just one blow after another, although he knew she didn't mean it.
"I-I lost my job again, Grandma." He said softly. She pulled back and looked at him, a light in her eyes.
"Well, then they don't know who they fired! You just take me down there, and I'll give them a piece of my mind…" ChiChi began. But then stopped as she erupted into a coughing fit. Gobo sighed and carried her over to a chair. He carefully sat her on it and took the one across. Her fits had been getting more and more frequent lately. ChiChi stopped coughing after a few minutes. She looked at the ground dejectedly. He hated it when she got like this; It was horrible to see someone with so much life being slowly drained away. As she recovered, he got up and went over to the fridge. For some reason Gobo needed a ton of food. His Grandma thought it was perfectly normal that he ate about twenty times as much as everyone else, but he hated it. Food burned money faster than fire in his house. After a few minutes deliberation, he pulled out a few pre- cooked chickens and some side dished to heat up. ChiChi saw what he was doing and she laughed.
"Your Grandfather always liked my chicken best too. You're just like him, always digging through the fridge. Here, let me warm it for you." She said, standing up and shooing him away. Gobo let her. He knew that what his Grandma needed, even more than medicine sometimes, was to feel like she was taking care of him. She had probably taken care of his whole family before the aliens came. And she was a better cook than him, even though he was far from being bad. "You go and study, Gobo." ChiChi said. He sighed and nodded. She was always telling him to study his books, to get smart so he could change the world. That was how she thought they would make life better; By getting smart. Sometimes it could get frustrating, having to work and then study all day. But what else could he do? It wasn't like he could fight all the aliens or anything! So he went and got his books from the chest, and sat down at the table to re-read certain parts, and try and figure something else out. They were thick books, and some he hadn't even finished yet. They had belonged to his father. As he read, his grandmother hummed away at the stove. Her grey was bundled up in a tight bun, and her weathered face bore a smile. Gobo focused on the words on the page, but soon he found his own exhaustion creeping up on him. Slowly the words drew closer and closer, and the humming sound of his grandmother faded farther away. Gobo's eyes drooped shut as he fell asleep against his books.
There was fire all around, as well as twisted metal and the sounds of shouts. Gobo held onto the arms that held him tightly, his brown eyes peering out fearfully at the sight around him. He looked up into the clear blue eyes and lovely face of his mother, which was now set in a grim expression. "Who are they, Gohan?" She asked. A strong male voice answered her from a place Gobo couldn't see. He looked over his mother's shoulder and looked at all the people there. His Grandmother, the blue- haired lady, a girl who looked just like her, his big sister, a man with purple hair, his uncle Goten, a shorter looking man with flame-like hair, two blonde ladies, one who looked older than the other, a young man with dark skin and a black mohawk, a very short bald man, and a tall green man. They all looked vaguely familiar to him. Suddenly there was a crash behind him. As Gobo watched, a whole bunch of the people flew up off the ground towards the sound of the crash. His mother thrust him into his Grandma's hands as his sister flew forward as well. "Run!" She told ChiChi. Then she too flew off. Gobo cried for his mother as his grandmother and the blue-haired lady raced away. Then suddenly there was a shout, and his Grandma whipped around as a mechanical snake coiled around the other woman.
"Bulma!" She shouted. Then he eyes widened as she darted aside, barely avoiding a similar machine. Another one zipped out to grab her, but there was a large flash as a bolt of energy smashed into it. The machine burst apart. Gobo looked up and saw his father, floating in the air. His hair was a deep golden colour, and stood high atop his head. Gohan's eyes, once brown, were now a vibrant turquoise.
"Mom, hurry, find cover!" He told them.
"…Daddy?" Gobo whispered. As his Grandma carried him away in search of shelter, he saw his father and a few others go after the machine that took the other lady. But soon there were to many machines. He watched in horror as dozens of metal claws began to wrap around his father, his mother, his uncle, and sister, and everyone else. Tears streamed down his cheeks, and he reached an arm out to them, before his Grandmother pulled them into hiding…
"Gobo!" A loud voice said. He shot straight up, eyes wide and blinking at the sound of his Grandma's angry voice.
"Honestly, how do you expect to learn if you keep falling asleep?" She demanded, lowering a plate full of hot food down in front of him. He sighed and raised a hand to scratch the back of his head, preparing an excuse. But when ChiChi saw the gesture, her features softened. A few traces of water appeared in her eyes. She shook her head. "…Nevermind. Here, you eat up and get strong. Studying can come later." ChiChi told him. Gobo wasn't sure what he'd done to calm her down, but it had worked very well. With a shrug he started in on the food. As he ate, he got the feeling that he'd dreamed something important when he was asleep. But what was it? All he could recall was the fire, and being put in his Grandma's arms. Just like always. So Gobo decided to drop it, and think about getting his new job. That was when he heard his Grandmother gasp for breath and saw her collapse…
(A/N: Any suggestions for a better title are welcome. Please review!)