Disclaimer: I don't own DB/DBZ/DBGT. It'd be nice, but . . . no.

We all know how close Kuririn and Goku were, but in the anime we don't really see how Kuririn reacts to Goku's death after the Cell Games. (No, this is not a yaoi story.) I wasn't in a very happy mood when I wrote this, but I managed to get through without killing anyone (except Goku, who's already dead). So here we go.

Best Friends

I've sometimes wondered why things happen to certain people, and not others. Like why Nappa killed Piccolo and the others, but not Gohan or me. Why, even though I've died twice I've been wished back each time, when I'm sure there were better things the others could have wished for. Why, even after my less-than-happy childhood, I managed to find the best group of friends a guy could ever hope for.

Or why I just stood there while my closest friend in the universe walked away from us forever.

I keep seeing that day in my dreams -- even when I'm not asleep. I can't close my eyes without remembering what happened. How Goku looked back at all of us and smiled, that famous half-sad, half-happy smile of his, then disappeared.

Disappeared, right. I've been using words like that since the incident, hoping I can convince myself that it didn't really happen, but I can only lie to myself for so long. Bulma tells me I'm a rotten liar, and I know she's right.

Goku is dead. There, I've said it. He's dead, and this time he isn't coming back. He doesn't want to come back -- he says his presence here endangers the Earth, so he's staying away. Whenever I try to really think about it, to get the reality of the situation through my head, I get an empty feeling inside me like my stomach and heart have disappeared. It's a horrible sensation -- it makes me feel like there's nothing left. And there isn't, not really. Goku was -- is -- the world to me.

I'd seen him die once before, when he sacrificed himself in order to let Piccolo kill Radditsu, but even though I cried when it happened, we all knew the Dragonballs could bring him back. Now, it's . . . it's unreal. It doesn't seem possible that Goku could be dead. It's like I'm living in a movie or something, and if I hang in there everything will work out fine.

But that's stupid.

I'm not sure when everyone's attitudes toward Goku changed, but somewhere over the years he stopped being our strongest fighter and became our lucky charm. Our ace-in-the-hole. Our Saiyajin rabbit's foot -- whatever. It was kind of an unwritten rule that Goku would walk away victorious from every battle he fought; bruised and bleeding, but with that trademark Son grin lighting up his face and brightening everyone's lives. Goku couldn't be beaten -- it wasn't allowed. So I took him for granted. We all did.

Boy, did we get a reality check. Maybe this is our punishment, because we were getting too cocky.

I'm still a little mad at Gohan, for not killing Cell when he could have. Ah, who am I kidding -- at first, I was furious. I was almost ready to kill Gohan, when Goku told us his death was the only way out. Isn't that mean? Next to Goku, Gohan is one of my best friends and I would never want to do anything to hurt him. At that moment, though, I was just about ready to try.

But afterwards, when Goku had gone and Gohan burst into tears, I cooled down and told him it was okay to cry, that it wasn't his fault. After he beat Cell, no one was prouder of Gohan than I . . . but I can't help thinking that if Gohan hadn't toyed with Cell, if he had killed him right away, then Goku would still be alive.

Aw, that isn't fair. If I'm gonna' blame somebody, I might as well put it on someone who deserves it.

Like me.

Blast #18. Blast that android and her perfect looks. Blast her kiss, the one that captured me right from the start. If it wasn't for her -- if she wasn't so . . . well, perfect . . . then I could have destroyed her. Cell would never have reached perfection, and Vegeta or Trunks would have taken care of him easily. This never would have happened.

It's ridiculous. I went through hell to save #18, and what do I get? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. My best friend is dead because of it, and the girl I l -- the girl I saved thinks I only did it so she would have to be indebted to me.

Goku's gone, #18 hates me. Way to go, Kuririn . . . double play. I've managed to lose two people I care about in one shot. As for Goku, this will be the first time I've had to deal with life without him. His goofy grin and boyish innocence always made the best out of every situation, and that helped all of us get through whatever we were facing.

I don't know what I'm going to --

Kuririn slammed his journal shut with a bang, and threw his pen across the room. He'd begun writing in a journal since Goku's death, and he'd thought at the time that it would be therapeutic to get his feelings out. Now, as Kuririn flipped through the pages and saw the same subject matter over and over, he wondered how helpful it had actually been.

Page after page about how much Kuririn missed Goku, or his frustration at his own inability to destroy #18 and stop Cell's perfection. Kuririn sighed and dropped the notebook beside his bed, then flopped down on his back and stared at the ceiling. There had to be something he could do to get his mind off his troubles off his troubles, but what? It had been two months since Goku's death, and Kuririn still hadn't managed to move on.

"Goku wouldn't cry for me, would he?" Kuririn pressed a hand to his forehead, grimacing. Gohan told him how Goku had cried when Frieza killed Kuririn -- how his rage and sorrow had caused Goku to transform into Super Saiyajin for the first time. "Well, maybe he would . . . but at least he was able to do something about it. Me, all I could do was stand there!"

Goku turned back, index fingers already to his forehead. He smiled, and though his eyes were sad he silently told them that everything would be fine. "Goodbye . . . friends," the air around him shimmered, and he was gone.

"NO!!" Kuririn screamed feeling like he was being torn in two. He reached out a hand, but it was too late . . .

Kuririn tried to shut off the memories, but they kept coming. He shivered and pulled the blankets up over his head, despite the fact that he was sweating. Goku . . . he thought, you gave your life for the planet, but they all think that idiot Mr. Satan was the one who beat Cell. We're the only ones who know what you and Gohan did.

Against his will, a tear slid down Kuririn's cheek. "Everybody misses you," he declared quietly. "Why do you need to be so noble all the time?"

Just then, the phone in Kuririn's room rang. He jumped and picked up the phone on the second ring. "Hello?"

"Kuririn?" it was ChiChi. "I hope I didn't wake you up."

"Nah," Kuririn propped himself up on one elbow. "I was just sitting here, thinking. Are you all right?"

ChiChi sighed. "Well, that's why I called. I figured you're as upset about Goku as I am, and I just need to talk to somebody, that's all. I don't want to worry Gohan."

There was something odd about her tone of voice that made Kuririn sit up. "Huh? What do you mean? Is everything okay?"

ChiChi began to cry, such a heartbroken sound that it made Kuririn's eyes start to water sympathetically. "O, Kuririn," she sobbed. "You won't believe it, but . . ." ChiChi took a deep, shuddering breath. "Kuririn, this afternoon I found out that I . . . I'm . . . I'm pregnant."

Kuririn's jaw dropped, and his fingers fumbled until he almost dropped the receiver. "Pregnant? Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," ChiChi was crying so hard that it was difficult to make out her words. "I've been getting sick every morning, and my appetite had changed, and I thought I was starting to gain weight . . . so I finally went to the doctor's," she broke down again.

Kuririn wished he knew what to say. "When did it . . . happen, ChiChi?"

ChiChi gathered control of himself. "Before Goku left for the Cell Games . . . I didn't think this would happen, I really didn't! It will be hard enough raising Gohan without a father, but this child will have to grow up without ever knowing Goku. At least Gohan will have memories --"

"Listen, if I start now, I can be at your house in an hour," Kuririn told her. "Do you want me to come over?"

"Would you?" ChiChi made a noise like she was struggling to hold back more tears. "I'd hate to inconvenience you, but I just can't handle this. That poor baby . . ."

"Hey, no sweat. I'll be over as soon as I can. Hang in there."

Kuririn set the phone back in its stand, then opened the window and flew out. On his way to the Son residence, Kuririn shook his head in disgust. Here he was pulling a pity party and feeling sorry for himself when Chichi was faced with raising Goku's child all by herself. The bond between husband and wife was stronger than that of friends . . . Kuririn felt genuinely sorry for ChiChi. He'd been heartbroken when he'd broken up with Maron; but they'd only been dating, and Maron wasn't dead.

ChiChi had lost the man she loved for the second time, and this time it was forever.

Kuririn arrived at ChiChi's house just under an hour later, and ChiChi answered the door before Kuririn could ring the bell. "Hi, come on in," ChiChi had thrown a housecoat loosely over his clothes, and her hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail. She looked very, very tired, especially with the tear stains on her cheeks. "I really appreciate this, you know. You can't imagine how hard this is for me."

Kuririn smiled reassuringly and sat beside her on the couch. He glanced at her and surreptitiously stretched out his senses. Sure enough, there was something strange about her ki sense . . . Kuririn's gaze dropped to ChiChi's stomach, which he thought was starting to strain against the front of her dress.

A knowing look crossed ChiChi's face. "So. You sense it too, then," when Kuririn nodded, she continued. "That's how we first found out about Gohan. Goku told me it was like there was someone else inside me somewhere, and that's when I knew for sure."

Kuririn wasn't sure what the could say or do to make her feel better. "Do you regret the baby?"

ChiChi buried her face in her hands and her shoulders began shaking. "No," she sobbed, "I'm glad I'll have something to remember Goku by, and I promise to love the child, but . . . it's so hard. I don't want to raise a child without Goku to help me."

Kuririn put an arm around her and ChiChi cried on his shoulder. "I'll bet you anything the baby will be a boy, and he'll look exactly like Goku. How will I be able to handle it?"

Kuririn patted her shoulder. "Maybe having the kid will help ease the pain. You never know."

ChiChi nodded slowly, and she rested a hand on her stomach. "Goku's last gift to me, and he'll never see it . . ."

"Yes, he will," Kuririn smiled when ChiChi looked at him questioningly. "Kaio-sama can let Goku see what's happening on Earth. If I know Goku, he'll be right there watching the whole time, and he'll be proud."

"I'll train it," ChiChi vowed quietly, startling Kuririn. "Boy or girl, I don't care. With Goku gone, the child will need someone to train him or her . . . and it might as well be me. Maybe if I train our baby, it'll be almost like Goku is still here with me."

Kuririn squeezed her shoulders. "That's the spirit, ChiChi. Don't think of it as someone who will remind you too much of Goku . . . think of it as a way to keep Goku's memory alive."

ChiChi managed a smile. "Thank you, Kuririn. You've helped me a lot -- maybe more than you'll ever know."

"Yeah, maybe. Maybe it'll be easier to let go, now that you have a piece of Goku to stay with you forever."

Kuririn stood up. "Are you gonna' be okay?"

"I think so," ChiChi favoured him with a grateful smile. "I'm sorry I called you so late, but I'm still glad I did."

"So am I. I'm glad I could help," Kuririn manufactured a reassuring smile, desperately hoping it didn't look as fake to ChiChi as it felt to him. "Well, I really should get back . . . and you need to get some rest, too. You're not just living for yourself anymore," he winked. "Say hi to Gohan and your father for me, okay?"

As he flew home, Kuririn had to knuckle his eyes more than a few times as the wind drew tears from them . . . though he wasn't sure the wind was causing them. He was glad he had helped ChiChi, but he was still in the same frame of mind himself. Goku was still dead, and he was never coming back.

Out of nowhere, Kuririn put on the brakes and landed on the ground, slamming his fists into the grass. Tears streamed down his face. "You know, Goku," Kuririn declared brokenly. "You once told me that dying sucks. Well you know what? Living can suck, too."

Just then, Kuririn caught sight of something glinting in the starlight. Curious despite his memory, the former monk pushed aside the tall blades of grass and reached down to feel his fingers close over something cold and hard. Lifting the object up, Kuririn blinked in shock when he realized it was a Dragonball. Hands trembling, Kuririn counted the stars.

One . . . two . . . three . . . four.

The four-star Dragonball; ojiisan, Goku's favourite.

With a half-choked sob, Kuririn clutched the Dragonball to his chest. "Goku . . ." he whispered. As a child, the 4-star had been Goku's most prized possession; he had talked to it, and even named it ojiisan -- Grandpa.

Kuririn cradled the sphere in his hands, and had anyone been around to witness it, he or she would have seen a small smile cross Kuririn's face.

"Thank you, Goku," he whispered. Goku was still dead, but as Kuririn now realized, he still had years upon years of memories from which to choose. The decision was his -- Kuririn could choose to live in pain and solitude for the rest of his days, or he could forge a new path and honour Goku's memory by living a good and happy life. Goku was gone, but his carefree spirit was something not even death could destroy.

Kuririn held the Dragonball to his heart and smiled, closing his eyes. "Goodbye, Goku; live happily in the other world for me, okay?" Kuririn wiped the moisture from his cheeks. "When the time comes, I'll tell your child all about you. Everyone will. And if I ever have a kid, I'll raise him or her to be friends with yours."

He lifted a hand in salute. "Best friends always, Goku -- nothing can change that. Goodbye."

Flying home, Kuririn glanced at the orb he held in his hands. Though he couldn't explain it, somehow Kuririn knew that somewhere, Goku was smiling.

* * * * * *