Ch. 1

Gohan touched ground right in front of the front door to his home and looked at it a bit apprehensively. He opened the door silently and slipped inside. Looking around, he crept up the stairs and tiptoed to his room. Just as he passed the threshold and began shutting the door, a slippered foot caught the door. Gohan sighed. So close.

"And just where were you, hmm?" Chi-Chi asked, arms crossed and eyes flashing.

"Umm, just out for some fresh air? And um, to see Icarus! You know I haven't seen him in a long time." He put his hand in his hair, as usual when he was nervous and/or lying.

"So I'm sure you didn't train at all then." Chi-Chi challenged.

"Well, maybe a little bit. But just a teeny bit of training." His voice grew smaller and smaller as he spoke, as if it would keep his mom from exploding as he was sure she would. It was almost funny how scared he was of her, considering he was the one with super strength. But she was his mother, and she controlled the kitchen and the pursestrings.

"And what about your studies, Gohan? You're going to high school tomorrow. Neither of us know what you should expect but I'll be damned if anyone shows my son up academically! I've put too much of my time and effort for you to lose to anyone in grades. Remember that! You have your time to train, but you have your time to study too."

"I studied! I did. I swear! Look!" Gohan rushed to pick up a book haphazardly laying on a chair. "I finished the Physics textbook Bulma lent me the other week. I went to her place earlier today, remember I took Goten too? and went through those chemistry experiments I showed you the plans for yesterday. Those were awesome! Plus, I worked on that English textbook I've been having trouble with. Seriously, if I had someone to practice with, I'd be a lot better." Gohan stopped rambling as Chi-Chi's eyes softened and her entire body became less rigid. Gohan suddenly noticed that she seemed to have more wrinkles than he remembered.

"Okay. I get it. You'll do well in school. I know it, because you're my son. You know why I'm sending you there, right?" Gohan nodded, but she kept speaking anyway, mostly to convince herself. "You don't really have many friends here. And don't interrupt" she said as he opened his mouth. "Your brother doesn't count. Bulma, Trunks and Vegeta don't count. Icarus doesn't count. You don't know how to deal with people your own age. You've never had to. All the Z fighters met when we were young, but you've...been isolated. Here." She sighed. "Make friends, okay? Don't necessarily come straight home if you can spend time with friends. Though let me know if you'll be especially late. Get a study partner to practice English with. Meet a nice girl, maybe?"

"Mom!" Gohan blushed scarlet.

"Oh, honey, you know your father and I met when we were younger than you! Who's to say you won't find your future wife at school? And you're a handsome boy. The girls will flock to you!"

"Mom. Seriously. Stop!" Gohan turned redder.

"You also need to learn to deal with crabby people" She continued.

"You mean like Vegeta?" They laughed.

"Yes, like Vegeta. Except, you can't fight a normal kid who insults you like you can Vegeta. You probably shouldn't fight at all. You know I don't like you fighting, but especially now where you can really hurt people, just- just don't do it. Okay?"

"Yes, mom." It was a reasonable request. Though unnecessary. It wasn't as if Gohan was going to go rampaging on the streets or anything. Conversation over, he headed back to his room and prepared to take a shower before dinner.

After dinner, Chi-Chi remembered something important. "Gohan," she called. "Would you come over here please?" A few moments later and she handed him a clean dish to dry and picked up a dirty dish to wash as they spoke. I just remembered, you know Yamcha's teaching physical education at your school, right?"

"Oh yeah. I feel like you mentioned that a while ago. How's that going to work?" He set the dish down on the drying rack and took another.

"He's going to pretend like he doesn't know you. That way, you won't get any extra attention."

"That'll be weird, though good, I guess. I'll miss talking to him though." Gohan said. He hadn't seen Yamcha in a few years, but he was still a family friend. Not talking to him would be difficult, but worth the lack of scrutiny. Chi-Chi had told him about how Yamcha was pretty famous, even though he retired from being a baseball star a few years back. He thought it would be weird if a nobody from the mountains like him would know this huge baseball celebrity. He wasn't even quite sure what baseball was. Something about a ball and bat and strikes which he knew meant all the pins fell down, which was apparently good. That sounded about right to him.

"Also, I'll write a letter to get you out of the class since you're so worried about being normal. You sure about that though?"

" Well, not every class. Something I can use as an excuse. Like asthma. If I'm going to be normal, I can't sit out everything. But once we get to martial arts, I can't really do that. There only needs to be one person just moderately skilled enough to catch that my stances are perfect. And if they call me out on it, I might get challenged by someone. And I don't want to risk that." Gohan didn't want any extra attention on him without any idea what to expect. He wanted to see what a normal life would be like, since he didn't have one. He wanted to be normal, have normal friends and worry about normal stuff. He could be abnormal back home, or at the Briefs' house. He told himself he wouldn't use even half his strength at school. Maybe not even more than a fourth. He'd have to judge depended on the others in his school and make a decision accordingly.

The next morning, Gohan got up at the crack of dawn as usual. This was the perfect time to train for several reasons: it woke him up, left him feeling refreshed and energized for the rest of the day, gave him a good appetite (not that it needed much helping in the first place), and was sanctioned by his mom as training time. Originally reluctantly given as a way to encourage Gohan to study, Chi-Chi soon saw how happy it made her son and knew she could not take that little away from him, except in punishment. The added bonus was that Goten was still sleeping soundly.

Gohan always started his training session with a seated meditation where he first cleared his mind as Piccolo taught him, and then created a purpose for the day, for the training. Having a clear head to react to anything with was important in general, but especially important when facing a new situation. He got up and stretched and then slid into his fighting stance.

He started slow, a leg sweep here, a chest-level punch there. He moved in all angles and sped up, jabbing punches faster and faster until most people would not be able to even follow the movements. He kicked at the air, or what should've been air, and split a giant tree in two, causing it to crash heavily into the ground.

'Whoops,' he thought. "Didn't mean to do that. Guess I'll just bring it over for firewood or something.' With little effort, he picked the massive trunk and carried it above his head as he flew home. After dropping it off, he continued his training for another hour before his stomach growled noisily and demanded food. He told his stomach to hold on a little longer, then went home and took a quick shower. When walking in, the table had been laden with food, and the smell followed him upstairs. His shower lasted no more than five minutes before he was stuffing his face at the dining room table. Chi-Chi smacked him on the head. "Eat with a little more dignity. Honestly, it's like you've been starved. And you need to be a good role model for Goten."

Goten, awake and eating at the table looked up at the sound of his name, mouth impossibly full of food.

"That's exactly what I'm talking about."

"I can't help it. Your food is too good." Gohan said. Goten mumbled an agreement before swallowing.

"Don't talk with your mouth full!" Chi-Chi screeched. "And thank you, dear," she said much more calmly to Gohan. "Now get your things ready and get going or you'll be late." Her tone sharpened. "And we don't want that, do we." It wasn't a question. Gohan gulped and went up to his room. He grabbed his bag and on second thought, opened it up to make sure he had everything for the tenth time since he packed it the day before.

'Let's see. I've got pens, pencils, a calculator, a dictionary, notebooks, folders, notecards, a highlighter, and my wallet is right there. I think I'm good. I'll be getting my textbooks and schedule at the main office which is...' he checked one of the folders where he had written the room number down on a piece of looseleaf. 'Ah, Room 157. Okay, easy enough.' He kissed his mother goodbye on the cheek, ignoring her sad wistful look, and ruffled Goten's hair.

"See you, twerp. Study well for Mom, and we'll see if I can't find time to play with you after homework tonight, okay?"

"Yay!" Goten cried. "Come back soon!"

"After classes, Goten."

"How long is that?" He asked.

"Um, how about you ask Mom. I've gotta go." The last thing he heard was Goten asking Chi-Chi how long school was and why wasn't he going too.

A/N: 8/28/12. I love the 'Gohan in high school' stories, however most versions are surprisingly similar. While I want Gohan to be found out for the superhero he is, it's often in a too dramatic and unrealistic way where Gohan is always getting the short hand of the stick. Also, there are tons of stories (in general as well with this type) where I can't even get past the first paragraph because of the horrible grammar (Seriously, if you don't know how to use a comma or when to use a capital letter, please at least get a beta reader). So I suddenly got inspired to begin to write a version of my own in the middle of the night (seriously, it's 4am now). Unfortunately, my inspirations don't tend to last long and I tend to drop my work, so I don't know how far into the story I'll actually get. If nothing else, I believe this is a start which shows especially Chi-Chi, but perhaps Gohan as well, in a different light than they are normally painted.