Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonball Z, or any of its characters. They belong
to Akira Toriyama. I own this plotline, however.
AU plotline: What if Chichi had died having Goten, and Gohan blamed himself for everything?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
THE SHADOWS OF MY HEART
Prologue-- Goodbye to One, Hello Another
Eleven-year old Gohan paced impatiently, eyes glued to the white tile floor, mind a million miles away. He worriedly gnawed at his bottom lip, not even aware of the action that had become habit. The other people in the room radiated a similar anxiety, except for Piccolo and Vejiita, who were meditating and leaning against the wall by the door, respectively.
They were in the hospital, and Chichi was somewhere in the rooms beyond the said door. Pretty soon, Gohan was going to have a little brother or sister. They hadn't wanted the doctors to tell them which.
//Mom hasn't been the same since Dad died,// Gohan thought, still pacing. //She never really got over it, and she's not well. I don't know what I'd do if she doesn't make it through this.// Gohan didn't give form to the thought that he, too, was different since Gokuu's death, everyone was.
//She took it hard when she found out he was gone,// Gohan remembered, and his gnawing increased speed. He could see it in his mind's eye, like it was yesterday. He had been tearful himself, hesitating, not quite ready to tell his mother the news, though he knew he had to. The admittance to Chichi would be like acceptance, acknowledgment that Gokuu was gone for good, and Gohan didn't think he'd ever be ready for that.
He had done it anyway, his already bleeding heart stomped even further as the words passed his lips; "Mom, I-I don't know how to say this, but..Dad didn't make it." Chichi's eyes, so filled with gladness when her son had come home, drained slowly of the emotion, replaced with one he knew was reflected in his own eyes.
"What?" she'd whispered, her hands falling to her sides as her father, the Ox-King, cried out.
"W-when Cell was going to self-destruct a-and blow up the Earth, h-he took him away with Instant Transmission a-and was caught in the b-blast." The words came haltingly, unwillingly, but he forced them past the sudden lump in his throat.
Gohan had lowered his head painfully, heard the dull thud as Chichi fell to the ground and began weeping.
She'd grown thinner since then, and quieter. He'd pass by her door sometimes at night and hear sounds of muffled sobbing. Only sometimes. She went about normally most of the time, nagging at him to study and reproving him when he came home from sneaking out to train. A smile played across Gohan's mouth at the memory and his pacing slowed slightly.
She'd gotten worse, not better, when they found out she was pregnant. He had a feeling she spent most of her time thinking of how Gokuu would never get to know his second son, or vice versa. He worried about her constantly, and here they were.
"Gohan." His head snapped up and he jerked to a halt in his pacing as he heard his name. Bulma gave him a wavering smile, and said, "You're going to wear a hole in the floor if you keep that up." He stared blankly at her. What did the floor matter when his mother, his only living relative since the Ox-King had died six months ago, was probably wailing in pain at that very moment? When it was possible she wasn't going to live through the next few hours? His mind couldn't seem to register that she was joking.
Bulma sensed this and tried again. "You look like you're going to bite through your lip, Gohan." He released his lip in surprise, just realizing that he had been chewing on it. Running his tongue over the inside, he tasted blood. Bulma got up and came over to him in concern. "You *did* bite through it!"
Gohan shrugged sheepishly and waved her hand away as she went to look at it. "It's nothing, Bulma, really. It doesn't hurt at all, honestly, I had no idea what I was doing." He struggled to smile at her and came up with a half grin that clearly showed his anxiety.
"Oh, Gohan," Bulma murmured compassionately. "Don't worry about Chichi, she's been through this once already, remember? She's a tough girl, your mom, and she can take it. If a fragile, untrained woman like me can have a half-saiyajin kid, then it's gotta be no sweat for her."
Gohan, amused at the thought of Bulma being described as *fragile*, nodded distractedly, but was betrayed by how his eyes flickered to the doorway. Bulma sighed when she realized he wasn't going to be able to settle down, patted his shoulder, then went over to speak to Vejiita quietly.
The young saiyajin glanced at his mentor with envy; he didn't know how Piccolo could possibly meditate, looking so calm, at a time like this. Then again, it wasn't his mother who was in danger here.
Struck by a sudden thought, a shadow passed over Gohan's eyes. //I'm responsible for Dad's death, my own stupid pride and saiyajin bloodlust. He told me that Cell was still a threat, even when I was so much stronger. What did I do? Ignore the advice of the one so much older and more experienced than me, and cause his death. Him dying, in turn, caused Mom to become so weak with grief. If she dies now, it will be my fault, too.//
He closed his eyes painfully, echoes of his own thoughts reverberating in his mind. //It'll be my fault..// He couldn't escape his own guilt even now. Because of him, his little brother or sister would grow up without a dad, never knowing the great man from which their awesome powers came. Gohan had sworn to himself that he would be as good a father figure as he could possibly be at his young age. He would comfort his sibling in any times of loneliness, and retell them of all the adventures of their sire.
It was part of the reason why he never went out and contradicted Hercule when he went out and declared that he had defeated Cell. Since Gohan took absolutely no credit for it, the man who had truly defeated the monster was dead, as good as by Gohan's own hand. How could he possibly deserve the gratitude of millions when his own desire for pain had cost his father his life?
He hadn't even thought about consequences; *everything* was about consequences. He had seen the naked fear and helplessness on Cell's face and *reveled* in it. The pain he had inflicted was sweet joy. How could he claim to be a hero when he was tainted with such a feeling? What made him any different than all the countless enemies he fought if he purposely drew it out, taunting the weak? If Cell could be called such a thing. Before his transformation, he himself knew the agony, the fear of being that powerless. Then the second he had more power it went straight to his head and he turned around and inflicted the same feeling on someone else? What kind of person was he? That stupid, *useless* power, which so many would kill to have, still couldn't prevent the one he loved most from slipping forever beyond his grasp.
"Hey!" A gruff voice and a green hand shaking him knocked him roughly back to reality. Gohan looked up to see Piccolo staring at him.
It was then Gohan noticed that he was surrounded by a white aura, his whole body was tense, and he had powered up, as high as he could go without turning super saiyajin. Still pounding with remorse and anger against himself, he dropped his power down to normal and nodded slightly to Piccolo in apology.
"You okay, kid?" Piccolo said, searching his face.
"Just a little strained, is all," he replied, his voice strangled.
Not used to giving any words of comfort, and certainly not able to break through his hard exterior enough to offer solace, Piccolo merely nodded and clapped Gohan on the shoulder. His dark eyes spoke volumes of his concern, however, and Gohan felt a sudden rush of gratitude to his teacher. He knew when to stay silent and let a person alone with their thoughts, something that wasn't true about Bulma.
Knowing that he wouldn't be able to go back to his former line of thinking without getting worked up again, Gohan dropped into a seat along the wall and put all of his concentration into his hearing. Saiyajin hearing was quite a bit more keen than human, more like a wolf's, so Gohan knew that he might be able to hear something from where his mother was being kept. He knew he should just wait for the doctor like a good little boy, but he couldn't stand it.
Unfortunately, the waiting room was located just outside the rooms where the newborns were kept, and their cries stifled any of his attempts to hear further. Straining a bit harder, Gohan managed to pick up faint footsteps, coming closer. It sounded like..a rather sturdily built male, judging by the footfall..around thirty years old..with a slight limp in the left leg. It had to be the doctor taking care of Chichi. He had observed all of the above qualities in the man when he'd brought his mother to the hospital.
Gohan stood up and walked to the door just as it swung open and the doctor, looking startled that someone knew he was coming, came through. Everyone in the room looked their way and half rose out of their seats, but waited for Gohan to make the first move. He didn't. He waited, too, watching the doctor carefully, his whole body tense.
The doctor smiled broadly, but with a tinge of sadness that Gohan's sharp eyesight didn't miss. "Congratulations, young man," he said to Gohan. "You have a brand new baby brother!" Sounds of happiness were heard through the room, and Gohan himself gave a slight smile before worry came over him again.
"How's my mother?" he asked immediately. The doctor didn't seem to hear him.
"Yes, he's a healthy little tyke!" he announced, grinning, but still with that hint of remorse. "Good set of lungs, too!"
"How. Is. My. Mother," Gohan repeated tightly, spacing each word slightly apart. The man glanced at Gohan, then quickly away, which was all the painful confirmation that the boy needed.
"I'm sorry, sonny," the doctor said regretfully. "But she was awfully weak, and not very well prepared for the onset of labor. She didn't make it. I'm so sorry."
There were gasps of shock all around the room, but Gohan didn't hear them. A strange ringing was chiming in his mind, and his chest was getting tighter and tighter. His mother.dead? _That just can't be,_ he thought dazedly. //She was..is..the strongest woman in the world! She couldn't die from bringing a life into the world..She wouldn't...She can't- She can't do this to me..//
Murmurs of "Oh, God, Chichi.." and "Poor Gohan." were echoing in the room, going in one ear and out the other of the young saiyajin. All he could see was his mother's smiling face, scolding, laughing, and crying as flickers of memory came to him from who knows where. Then she was gone, and his father's face replaced her. Serious in the face of battle, comically stuffed with food, then giving the handsome, slightly silly smile that Gohan himself had inherited.
Gohan's throat constricted unexpectedly as his thoughts from earlier came back to haunt him. //My fault, my fault, my fault, my fault, my fault, my fault.....//
"IT'S ALL MY FAULT!" he screamed suddenly, and, not wanting to see the others' reactions to his shameful outburst, he blurred out of sight, streaking down the hall, desperately seeking his mother's life force, but knowing that he would never find it. He would never feel it again.
Tears dimmed his vision, but he didn't need his sight to feel what he did next.
He stopped suddenly and stared at the door to the left of him, feeling the vibrant new life force within the room on the other side. It felt strangely familiar, but yet Gohan was convinced that he had never felt it before in his life. Hesitantly, he pushed open the door and saw that his mother was lying peacefully, utterly still, under the pristine sheets of the hospital bed. Vaguely, Gohan realized that they must have moved her, because she would have been surrounded by blood if she had given birth there.
There was a strange ache at the bottom of his heart and his throat constricted. The words he couldn't express howled in his mind, coming out as a muffled choke. Then Gohan did what he had trained himself to do over the years- he took all of the pain, grief, and self-revulsion and rolled it into a little ball and buried it deep in the recesses of his consciousness. But this time, it wouldn't go deep enough.
There was a small bundle placed in Chichi's motionless hands, and it was stirring restlessly, a thin, but noisy voice clamoring to be placated. Gohan approached the bed slowly, knowing that he might not like what he saw. Standing right next to the bed, he still couldn't see his little sibling underneath the cloth it was wrapped in, but he took his mom's hand nonetheless. He flinched- not quite yet the icy cold that it would be in time, her hand was a lot chillier than he knew it should be, and limp. She was gone.
Finally letting the tears he had been holding back flow over his numb cheeks, Gohan laid Chichi's arm across her stomach gently. Then he picked up his brother, and the moved the blanket to uncover his undoubtedly wrinkled, newborn face.
He nearly dropped the tiny boy when he found himself staring into his father's smooth, clear face, but his arms had luckily frozen up in shock. The baby had stopped wailing, and was staring at Gohan, quiet.
Moved by the memories inspired by that familiar gaze, Gohan couldn't help give thought to the ridiculous idea that his brother his father's reincarnation, somehow come back to give him another chance at making up for all of his past mistakes.
"Goten," he breathed, his exhalation stirring the young one's downy hair as he remembered what they had been going to name the child if it were a boy. Gohan smiled, ever so slightly. He may not be able to forgive himself just yet..Maybe not ever..But he could make sure to try, by giving Goten all his love that had no other outlets.
His eyes misty again, Gohan bent over and pressed a final kiss to Chichi's forehead. "Bye, Mom," he whispered, feeling another hit score against his battered heart. "Say hi to Dad for me."
Gohan straightened, cradling his precious bundle carefully. His parents might be gone.But he could already feel Goten filling the place they had left. Maybe.Just maybe his little godsend of a brother could heal his soul completely. Giving one last, tiny smile, the young saiyajin hero blurred out of the hospital, and into the next epic saga of his life.
-------oooo000oooo-------
A/N- Who should I pair Gohan with? Videl? An original character? Or an old character that I'm bringing into the story whether you like it or not? (No, I'm not going to say who she is. Guess.) Please let me know your opinion. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ RaliNeoBlade: Thanks for reading! Review!
AU plotline: What if Chichi had died having Goten, and Gohan blamed himself for everything?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
THE SHADOWS OF MY HEART
Prologue-- Goodbye to One, Hello Another
Eleven-year old Gohan paced impatiently, eyes glued to the white tile floor, mind a million miles away. He worriedly gnawed at his bottom lip, not even aware of the action that had become habit. The other people in the room radiated a similar anxiety, except for Piccolo and Vejiita, who were meditating and leaning against the wall by the door, respectively.
They were in the hospital, and Chichi was somewhere in the rooms beyond the said door. Pretty soon, Gohan was going to have a little brother or sister. They hadn't wanted the doctors to tell them which.
//Mom hasn't been the same since Dad died,// Gohan thought, still pacing. //She never really got over it, and she's not well. I don't know what I'd do if she doesn't make it through this.// Gohan didn't give form to the thought that he, too, was different since Gokuu's death, everyone was.
//She took it hard when she found out he was gone,// Gohan remembered, and his gnawing increased speed. He could see it in his mind's eye, like it was yesterday. He had been tearful himself, hesitating, not quite ready to tell his mother the news, though he knew he had to. The admittance to Chichi would be like acceptance, acknowledgment that Gokuu was gone for good, and Gohan didn't think he'd ever be ready for that.
He had done it anyway, his already bleeding heart stomped even further as the words passed his lips; "Mom, I-I don't know how to say this, but..Dad didn't make it." Chichi's eyes, so filled with gladness when her son had come home, drained slowly of the emotion, replaced with one he knew was reflected in his own eyes.
"What?" she'd whispered, her hands falling to her sides as her father, the Ox-King, cried out.
"W-when Cell was going to self-destruct a-and blow up the Earth, h-he took him away with Instant Transmission a-and was caught in the b-blast." The words came haltingly, unwillingly, but he forced them past the sudden lump in his throat.
Gohan had lowered his head painfully, heard the dull thud as Chichi fell to the ground and began weeping.
She'd grown thinner since then, and quieter. He'd pass by her door sometimes at night and hear sounds of muffled sobbing. Only sometimes. She went about normally most of the time, nagging at him to study and reproving him when he came home from sneaking out to train. A smile played across Gohan's mouth at the memory and his pacing slowed slightly.
She'd gotten worse, not better, when they found out she was pregnant. He had a feeling she spent most of her time thinking of how Gokuu would never get to know his second son, or vice versa. He worried about her constantly, and here they were.
"Gohan." His head snapped up and he jerked to a halt in his pacing as he heard his name. Bulma gave him a wavering smile, and said, "You're going to wear a hole in the floor if you keep that up." He stared blankly at her. What did the floor matter when his mother, his only living relative since the Ox-King had died six months ago, was probably wailing in pain at that very moment? When it was possible she wasn't going to live through the next few hours? His mind couldn't seem to register that she was joking.
Bulma sensed this and tried again. "You look like you're going to bite through your lip, Gohan." He released his lip in surprise, just realizing that he had been chewing on it. Running his tongue over the inside, he tasted blood. Bulma got up and came over to him in concern. "You *did* bite through it!"
Gohan shrugged sheepishly and waved her hand away as she went to look at it. "It's nothing, Bulma, really. It doesn't hurt at all, honestly, I had no idea what I was doing." He struggled to smile at her and came up with a half grin that clearly showed his anxiety.
"Oh, Gohan," Bulma murmured compassionately. "Don't worry about Chichi, she's been through this once already, remember? She's a tough girl, your mom, and she can take it. If a fragile, untrained woman like me can have a half-saiyajin kid, then it's gotta be no sweat for her."
Gohan, amused at the thought of Bulma being described as *fragile*, nodded distractedly, but was betrayed by how his eyes flickered to the doorway. Bulma sighed when she realized he wasn't going to be able to settle down, patted his shoulder, then went over to speak to Vejiita quietly.
The young saiyajin glanced at his mentor with envy; he didn't know how Piccolo could possibly meditate, looking so calm, at a time like this. Then again, it wasn't his mother who was in danger here.
Struck by a sudden thought, a shadow passed over Gohan's eyes. //I'm responsible for Dad's death, my own stupid pride and saiyajin bloodlust. He told me that Cell was still a threat, even when I was so much stronger. What did I do? Ignore the advice of the one so much older and more experienced than me, and cause his death. Him dying, in turn, caused Mom to become so weak with grief. If she dies now, it will be my fault, too.//
He closed his eyes painfully, echoes of his own thoughts reverberating in his mind. //It'll be my fault..// He couldn't escape his own guilt even now. Because of him, his little brother or sister would grow up without a dad, never knowing the great man from which their awesome powers came. Gohan had sworn to himself that he would be as good a father figure as he could possibly be at his young age. He would comfort his sibling in any times of loneliness, and retell them of all the adventures of their sire.
It was part of the reason why he never went out and contradicted Hercule when he went out and declared that he had defeated Cell. Since Gohan took absolutely no credit for it, the man who had truly defeated the monster was dead, as good as by Gohan's own hand. How could he possibly deserve the gratitude of millions when his own desire for pain had cost his father his life?
He hadn't even thought about consequences; *everything* was about consequences. He had seen the naked fear and helplessness on Cell's face and *reveled* in it. The pain he had inflicted was sweet joy. How could he claim to be a hero when he was tainted with such a feeling? What made him any different than all the countless enemies he fought if he purposely drew it out, taunting the weak? If Cell could be called such a thing. Before his transformation, he himself knew the agony, the fear of being that powerless. Then the second he had more power it went straight to his head and he turned around and inflicted the same feeling on someone else? What kind of person was he? That stupid, *useless* power, which so many would kill to have, still couldn't prevent the one he loved most from slipping forever beyond his grasp.
"Hey!" A gruff voice and a green hand shaking him knocked him roughly back to reality. Gohan looked up to see Piccolo staring at him.
It was then Gohan noticed that he was surrounded by a white aura, his whole body was tense, and he had powered up, as high as he could go without turning super saiyajin. Still pounding with remorse and anger against himself, he dropped his power down to normal and nodded slightly to Piccolo in apology.
"You okay, kid?" Piccolo said, searching his face.
"Just a little strained, is all," he replied, his voice strangled.
Not used to giving any words of comfort, and certainly not able to break through his hard exterior enough to offer solace, Piccolo merely nodded and clapped Gohan on the shoulder. His dark eyes spoke volumes of his concern, however, and Gohan felt a sudden rush of gratitude to his teacher. He knew when to stay silent and let a person alone with their thoughts, something that wasn't true about Bulma.
Knowing that he wouldn't be able to go back to his former line of thinking without getting worked up again, Gohan dropped into a seat along the wall and put all of his concentration into his hearing. Saiyajin hearing was quite a bit more keen than human, more like a wolf's, so Gohan knew that he might be able to hear something from where his mother was being kept. He knew he should just wait for the doctor like a good little boy, but he couldn't stand it.
Unfortunately, the waiting room was located just outside the rooms where the newborns were kept, and their cries stifled any of his attempts to hear further. Straining a bit harder, Gohan managed to pick up faint footsteps, coming closer. It sounded like..a rather sturdily built male, judging by the footfall..around thirty years old..with a slight limp in the left leg. It had to be the doctor taking care of Chichi. He had observed all of the above qualities in the man when he'd brought his mother to the hospital.
Gohan stood up and walked to the door just as it swung open and the doctor, looking startled that someone knew he was coming, came through. Everyone in the room looked their way and half rose out of their seats, but waited for Gohan to make the first move. He didn't. He waited, too, watching the doctor carefully, his whole body tense.
The doctor smiled broadly, but with a tinge of sadness that Gohan's sharp eyesight didn't miss. "Congratulations, young man," he said to Gohan. "You have a brand new baby brother!" Sounds of happiness were heard through the room, and Gohan himself gave a slight smile before worry came over him again.
"How's my mother?" he asked immediately. The doctor didn't seem to hear him.
"Yes, he's a healthy little tyke!" he announced, grinning, but still with that hint of remorse. "Good set of lungs, too!"
"How. Is. My. Mother," Gohan repeated tightly, spacing each word slightly apart. The man glanced at Gohan, then quickly away, which was all the painful confirmation that the boy needed.
"I'm sorry, sonny," the doctor said regretfully. "But she was awfully weak, and not very well prepared for the onset of labor. She didn't make it. I'm so sorry."
There were gasps of shock all around the room, but Gohan didn't hear them. A strange ringing was chiming in his mind, and his chest was getting tighter and tighter. His mother.dead? _That just can't be,_ he thought dazedly. //She was..is..the strongest woman in the world! She couldn't die from bringing a life into the world..She wouldn't...She can't- She can't do this to me..//
Murmurs of "Oh, God, Chichi.." and "Poor Gohan." were echoing in the room, going in one ear and out the other of the young saiyajin. All he could see was his mother's smiling face, scolding, laughing, and crying as flickers of memory came to him from who knows where. Then she was gone, and his father's face replaced her. Serious in the face of battle, comically stuffed with food, then giving the handsome, slightly silly smile that Gohan himself had inherited.
Gohan's throat constricted unexpectedly as his thoughts from earlier came back to haunt him. //My fault, my fault, my fault, my fault, my fault, my fault.....//
"IT'S ALL MY FAULT!" he screamed suddenly, and, not wanting to see the others' reactions to his shameful outburst, he blurred out of sight, streaking down the hall, desperately seeking his mother's life force, but knowing that he would never find it. He would never feel it again.
Tears dimmed his vision, but he didn't need his sight to feel what he did next.
He stopped suddenly and stared at the door to the left of him, feeling the vibrant new life force within the room on the other side. It felt strangely familiar, but yet Gohan was convinced that he had never felt it before in his life. Hesitantly, he pushed open the door and saw that his mother was lying peacefully, utterly still, under the pristine sheets of the hospital bed. Vaguely, Gohan realized that they must have moved her, because she would have been surrounded by blood if she had given birth there.
There was a strange ache at the bottom of his heart and his throat constricted. The words he couldn't express howled in his mind, coming out as a muffled choke. Then Gohan did what he had trained himself to do over the years- he took all of the pain, grief, and self-revulsion and rolled it into a little ball and buried it deep in the recesses of his consciousness. But this time, it wouldn't go deep enough.
There was a small bundle placed in Chichi's motionless hands, and it was stirring restlessly, a thin, but noisy voice clamoring to be placated. Gohan approached the bed slowly, knowing that he might not like what he saw. Standing right next to the bed, he still couldn't see his little sibling underneath the cloth it was wrapped in, but he took his mom's hand nonetheless. He flinched- not quite yet the icy cold that it would be in time, her hand was a lot chillier than he knew it should be, and limp. She was gone.
Finally letting the tears he had been holding back flow over his numb cheeks, Gohan laid Chichi's arm across her stomach gently. Then he picked up his brother, and the moved the blanket to uncover his undoubtedly wrinkled, newborn face.
He nearly dropped the tiny boy when he found himself staring into his father's smooth, clear face, but his arms had luckily frozen up in shock. The baby had stopped wailing, and was staring at Gohan, quiet.
Moved by the memories inspired by that familiar gaze, Gohan couldn't help give thought to the ridiculous idea that his brother his father's reincarnation, somehow come back to give him another chance at making up for all of his past mistakes.
"Goten," he breathed, his exhalation stirring the young one's downy hair as he remembered what they had been going to name the child if it were a boy. Gohan smiled, ever so slightly. He may not be able to forgive himself just yet..Maybe not ever..But he could make sure to try, by giving Goten all his love that had no other outlets.
His eyes misty again, Gohan bent over and pressed a final kiss to Chichi's forehead. "Bye, Mom," he whispered, feeling another hit score against his battered heart. "Say hi to Dad for me."
Gohan straightened, cradling his precious bundle carefully. His parents might be gone.But he could already feel Goten filling the place they had left. Maybe.Just maybe his little godsend of a brother could heal his soul completely. Giving one last, tiny smile, the young saiyajin hero blurred out of the hospital, and into the next epic saga of his life.
-------oooo000oooo-------
A/N- Who should I pair Gohan with? Videl? An original character? Or an old character that I'm bringing into the story whether you like it or not? (No, I'm not going to say who she is. Guess.) Please let me know your opinion. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ RaliNeoBlade: Thanks for reading! Review!