Hope!
Disclaimer: The following story and all of the chapters to come are based on the works of Akira Toriyama. The writer makes no claim to any of the concepts, characters, or settings used. Please enjoy!
Chapter One
She could barely see her sleeping child behind the deeply tinted, purple windows of the pod, but she knew that she was protected. It hurt to sit; she winced in pain as the raw, tender wound on her abdomen burned and pulsed while she slowly slid her back inch by inch down the side of the pod. A relieved sigh escaped her lips when she touched down, finally able to relax her sore muscles. Her automatic rifle, supported over her shoulder with a sling, now rested on her lap.
'Hello, Pain? It's me – Videl. Can you do me a favor? Can you just go away? Because you've been all over my body for the past few hours and I am seriously sick of it.' Videl let out a groan as the lesions on her waist began to flare once more. 'I mean, buy a girl dinner first or something.' As the aches began to subside, she whispered, "Thanks…"
Videl. She had a last name, but that sort of thing stopped mattering a long time ago. 29-years-old. 30 by the time September rolled around. It was August now. Age 786. Of course, the only reason she ever kept track of the months and years was because of her sleeping bundle of joy in the weird pod. Videl reached into the pocket on her denim jacket, producing from it a miniature projector. Upon activating the machine, a holographic globe appeared before her.
"We're a little ways north of West City, Pan," she said quietly, despite knowing her daughter most likely could not hear her. Even so, it was a comforting reminder that she wasn't alone. "Nearest populated area is…Ginger Town." Videl sighed. 'Low priority reconstruction…' she thought. 'Doubt it'll be completely safe there…'
Videl growled as her body complained of its injury once more. 'But I need help,' she conceded. Her first aid could only keep her going for so long. She pulled from the opposite breast pocket of her jacket a small case. The Capsule Corporation's logo, faded and partially scratched away, decorated the major face of the little box.
Inside the Cap-Case were a lot of empty spaces. There was but one Dyno-Cap remaining in her months of travel. Model 772-T, it read. A donkey. More specifically, a hover-donkey. Nothing more than an unmanned cargo mule used to move heavy loads from place to place. Would have been useful if it was still programmable and automated, but that wasn't the case. The guiding chips were dead long before the Watchers got a hold of an abandoned store of the stuff. They used them as gurneys and hover-barrows, led from place to place with ropes and a degree of physical labor – useless to Videl at the moment.
The pod was something. She didn't know what it was or its place of origin, but it was sturdy and weapons didn't seem to work near it. She squeezed the trigger of the rifle in her hands, only to hear empty clicks in return. She and, more importantly, her daughter, were safe. 'Strange,' she thought, her mind focusing on the alien ball. 'It looked like something that's just been sitting there for more than twenty years, and still not like anything I've ever seen before…'
"Twenty years…Wow," she murmured to herself. "You know, Pan? That was when the world ended. I was only ten years old at the time." Really, it was nineteen years and some months. Her father had just won the Grand Martial Arts Tournament, becoming the most famous person alive and the strongest-known fighter on the planet. 'When was that?' she asked herself. 'April, I think?…Age 767?'
The androids came just a few weeks after Mark "Hercule" Satan won it all. He was all the news would ever talk about. The publicity and the tournament winnings earned him the money to finally start a martial arts school. Her father had only just bought the new gym. New students were lined up outside the door when…
Videl didn't want to think about it. She tried to think of a happier time. Anything to distract her from her barely dressed wound, or the fact that she brought her daughter to the desert lands where night was as cold as those few days they spent in the Northern Mountains. Oddly enough, she wasn't cold. Perhaps it was another effect of the weird pod? It was so alien…so mysterious…Her mind soon began to drift into another memory.
He stood in the rubble when it was all over. Sunset. A pink and purple sky colored the world behind him. His arm was broken, his clothes were torn, and his hair was no longer the shining gold it was just a minute ago. Videl pushed away some of the debris between them, holding her free hand up to her mouth to amplify her calls.
"Hey, you!" she shouted, running straight towards him as soon as the path was clear. He turned to look at her, and she saw that the man fighting the androids couldn't have been any older than she was. Like her, he seemed to be no more than a teenager.
She completely froze at the sight of him and she had no idea why. He looked thoughtfully toward her for a single moment before slowly ascending to the empty skies and flying west – straight into that beautiful sunset.
The memory wasn't sickening or horrifying as her father's death, but it troubled her nonetheless. Her meetings with the boy didn't stop there. They brought her the greatest joy she had felt in years. He made her feel like there was something waiting for them beyond the Onslaught, and she loved him for it. Still, Videl refused to keep thinking about it. She knew the outcome of those memories. Instead, she tried to focus on her destination.
West City. A lot of people in the world have been calling it 'Utopia.' It makes a certain sense, considering its reconstruction has been much faster and less hectic than the reconstruction of other major cities. It's also the safest place on the entire planet, considering Bulma Brief – also known as the Savior of the Earth – lives there. It was thanks to her genius that the Onslaught ended a little more than a year ago.
Other cities weren't so fortunate to have the once beautiful, now aging genius to oversee the reconstruction when the Onslaught ended. The former District Capitals – East City, West, North, and South – were the priority areas for rebuilding. It wasn't a decision made by any governments or committees – those were more inconsequential than ever – and the smaller towns ended up neglected for it. Orange Star City was one of them. It wasn't long before her hometown became ground-zero for the power struggle between various gangs and outlaw organizations. That was one of the reasons she had to leave.
The roar of motor engines and wild hollering could be heard faintly in the distance. 'Sounds too chaotic to be mercenaries…' she noted, trying to assess the threat. 'Gangs, then…Damn.' The sounds were gradually becoming clearer. They were coming close. Videl clutched at her side, her injury starting to act up as she scrambled to her feet.
"Damn it. Come on out…" she muttered weakly. Videl swallowed whatever moisture was in her mouth and gritted her teeth. "I'll take you all on."
The lights of their wheeled motorcycles and customized trucks blinded her so that she could only see in her immediate area. A black silhouette stepped forward. She brought her right hand up to shield her vision while her left hand gingerly hovered over her wound.
"Look what we have here…" It was a male speaking. His voice was cold and clear. "With that jacket and that bandana…Brothers and sisters, I think we have ourselves a Watcher!"
The gang's response was a cacophonous symphony of laughter, whooping, and cackling. The speaker, whom Videl assumed to be the gang leader, stepped forward more, allowing Videl a clearer image of his body. Another member followed from behind. Despite the blindingly bright lights of their vehicles, Videl could soon make out the two figures approaching her.
The speaker was a young man with jet black hair and an orange bandana fashioned as a scarf. His face was dirty, his hair looked as if it were blow-dried with a grenade, and his scarf featured ugly bloodstains that he most likely treated as trophies. The other figure turned out to be a young woman with bleach blonde hair, similarly ragged and dirty looking, and sporting a denim jacket with cutoff sleeves.
'Terrors…Shit.'
"Our new recruits here would love to earn their stripes, so to speak, so if you could just let us have our fun and kill you, we'll be out of your hair in no time," the blonde stated with a cruel smile playing at her lips. The young woman brushed a lock of hair behind her head, revealing her ears and the macabre accessories that hung from them – teeth. Her own collection of trophies from her victims, no doubt.
"Oh, I don't know if we should kill her so soon, sister," the dark-haired one interjected. "I can imagine a number of ways to have fun with this one…"
It wasn't the first time Videl had ever faced Terrors. However, this was the first time she had to face them while surrounded and badly injured. 'At least Pan is safe…' she thought, clenching her teeth and getting ready to throw a punch.
"You have a sick mind, brother…I like it…Although, she is quite old…" the blonde commented before noticing the large ball behind Videl. "And what's this? Hmm?" She took a step forward, only for Videl to obstruct her path with an outstretched arm.
"Stay away," ordered Videl, her eyes unwavering as she shot a piercing glare to the Terror leaders. The blonde stood above Videl by a few inches. She looked down upon her with that same playful smirk, keeping completely still for a moment. She couldn't have been more than 20 years old, Videl observed. In gleeful defiance, the younger woman took a step forward despite Videl. In response, Videl used her outstretched arm to shove the blonde back toward her "brother."
"I said stay away!" she shouted, glaring daggers at the gang siblings. It didn't matter that her gaze didn't affect them; she just wanted to make sure they received the message.
"Well, well. I wonder what's gotten you so heated?" asked the male Terror. He turned to the blonde. "Sister?"
She laughed. "I didn't see a thing. Maybe an ugly little monkey. Hard to tell with the purple glass and old lady in the way."
"Well, whatever is in there, the ball itself looks like something expensive." He turned to Videl, his lips curling into a confident and vicious grin. "Why don't we cut a deal? You can have your monkey. All you have to do is give us the ball and be our…toy."
"And the alternative is, of course, death," added the blonde, her tone eerily nonchalant and dismissive. "We kill you, your monkey, and we take the ball anyway. Your choice."
Again, the illuminated desert plain was filled with the cacophonous hollering and cheering of the members of the Terrors beyond the artificial lights, sounding their collective approval for either option.
'Of all the times for a gun not to work…' Videl thought wryly. Terrors don't use firearms. She would have been able to scare them off with the repeating sound of gunfire, but that was unfortunately not one of her current options. She had to think quickly. Ways out? There were none. Use reason? Videl was never a great communicator. Her mind repeated the same five-letter word over and over as if it were her mantra. However, the word was no key to inner calm. Rather, it was the only option she had.
'Fight.'
Power surged throughout her body as she rammed her clenched fist into the male leader. She felt the satisfying impact from his face reverberate in her balled hand in that single instance of contact before he was sent sprawling across the dirt and sand, desperate to find his footing. She lowered herself into her fighting stance, but found something in it wrong.
Videl couldn't pose her body in a proper form, her injury limiting her movements far more than the level to which she was accustomed. 'Come on, Adrenaline…!' she urged with both silence and desperation. 'Shouldn't you be kicking in right about now?'
Videl swung her right leg around to strike the blonde from the side, but the electrical shock-like pain of her wound prevented her from rotating her hips fully into the kick. Although the female leader was staggered by the attack, she quickly recovered and stood herself straight, walking toward the already fatigued Videl.
The blonde gang leader looked upon Videl with cruel eyes before shoving her knee into the raven-haired woman's stomach. Videl doubled over, feeling almost paralyzed from the impact. The male leader finally stood up and regained his balance, only now holding his hand over the bloody mess that took the place of his face. With a brisk pace, he advanced toward Videl and jammed his foot hard into the woman's now undressed wound.
"You bitch! That was my fucking face!"
Her eyes fought away the tears welling up with a hardened leer. Videl looked up to him, trying her best to sustain her false courage. His nose was completely broken; it looked like it was crushed flat against his face with the force of a small claw hammer. Her lips curled their way to a smile before she spat blood at the Terrors' feet.
"It's quite the improvement."
That final comment was all she could manage before Videl blacked out completely.
Six years ago…
"…explosions in the direction of Pepper Town can only lead us to assume that another attack is taking place. If you or your loved ones live near Pepper Town, you must evacuate immediately. I repeat, a series of explosions in the direction of Pepper Town can only lead us to assume – "
"WILL SOMEONE SHUT THAT DAMN THING OFF?!"
"Okay, Videl? I need you to relax. Do you remember the breathing exercises?" asked an older man in a medical mask, peering over at Videl from behind her legs. "Hee-hee-hoo…Okay? Hee-hee-hoooo…!"
She reached over to her side and grasped at whatever substantially heavy object she could find and hurled it at the radio.
"…This is Watchers West. A series of explosions in the direction of Pepper Town – "
The emergency broadcast was cut short with a loud crash as the fake plant and flowerpot that Videl threw slammed into the radio. The radio's casing split open as it hit the ground, startling the other two people in the room. Dr. Derry, the man beyond Videl's legs overseeing the birth, remained unfazed.
"Videl, calm down," said Derry in a pacifying tone. "I promise that this will all be over soon."
Her cries echoed throughout the rundown office.
…
…
"Doctor, it…has a tail…" the female assistant commented, shocked to see the furry brown appendage wriggling and curling around the body of the newborn.
"…She. She's a girl," Derry corrected his young doctor-in-training. He handed the child to her mother, who was now resting quietly in her bed, softly and slowly panting from the exhaustion. "I don't know if we should remove the tail…I've never seen anything quite like this."
"If you think it'll be harmful to the baby…" Videl started, staring contemplatively at the infant in her arms. It was so small. So fragile.
"Your baby," the doctor supplied. Videl responded only with silence.
"…My baby…" she continued, softly, "If you think you shouldn't remove the tail, then…it's fine…"
"I'm sorry; if my little office were better equipped, maybe we could have run tests…"
"It's fine, doctor."
The assistants left the doctor and his patient alone. The room was completely and deafeningly quiet. Videl couldn't keep her eyes off of the baby. She held her finger to its tiny hands and felt the touch of her child as the baby attempted to enclose its own small fingers around Videl's long, slender ones.
"…You should be happy," the doctor said quietly. "She's the first child born in Orange Star in years. Even in this day and age, life still finds a way to go on."
"If you can call it a life…" she replied, almost bitterly. The doctor didn't have a response. Instead, he walked to the far end of the room, picked up to busted radio, and placed it back on its stool. In its upright position, its lights began to weakly flicker for a moment before slowly dying down once more. He stared at Videl and her newborn for a moment before turning around and leaving them to rest.
Videl's eyes wandered about the little office. Everything was confined in this one room – the operating table and the patient bed, the doctor's desk, a power generator, and a large construction lamp that provided the only light, night or day. Then there was, of course, the radio. It faced her from where it sat, and her eyes stopped wandering when her gaze landed upon it. She felt like she had been staring at it for hours.
Her baby's grip on her finger pulled her from her trance. She looked at her, loosely swaddled in its blanket. The unnamed infant weakly wriggled on her mother's lap, her tail practically dancing with each little movement.
"So…you have a tail," said Videl, using her free hand to lightly hold the furry appendage. "How'd you get this thing anyway? Your dad? He is a weirdo. But I…don't want to talk about that. Hell, maybe you're just special and we live in strange times. Who knows?
"You're going to need a name, aren't you?" she asked her in a rather lukewarm tone. "Well, how do you like Videl?" No response. "No? Then…Gohan? God, no. It's been months since I've thought about those days and already you've got me spending every minute talking about him."
Videl quietly sat with her child in her lap, allowing the baby to play with her fingers. She had no idea what it was she was supposed to feel as a mother. Happiness? Why? Because she brought a child into the world? How happy could she be when she brought a child into a world where people never knew if tomorrow could be their last day alive? So what was it, then? Grief? Or perhaps she should just feel relief that the damned birth is over and done. To be truly honest, that little girl was making her feel a little bit of everything in the most confusing way.
"Your name is Pan," she informed the newly christened child. "Pan. Everything."
Pan managed a quiet, but almost delighted squeal in response.
Just beyond the singular moment of maternal bliss, the seemingly busted radio began to flicker to life once more. Between periods of static, the muffled voices of the Watchers West Broadcast projected quietly from the little box.
"…We're currently on the search…urvivors of the at…ack on Pepper Town…at ground zero of the...argest explosion…Our search has yielde…no results so fa…scraps of orange fabric…no burns, but soaked in blood. I'm afraid that there are no survivors…"
The radio died shortly after the broadcast ended.
The Writer's Block:
Hello, readers! First of all, I would like to thank you for taking time out of your day to read Hope! This idea has been cooking in my head for a couple of months, just waiting for me to have the free time to see it fully fleshed out. I'm very happy with how this is turning out, and I'm excited for everything that will happen on this journey.
Unlike Demon Hunt, another story of mine you may or may not have read, this story will not be quite so AU. In fact, one of my goals for this is for any number of readers (though not necessarily all of them, since that is simply foolish) to believe that what happens here could actually happen in Dragon Ball Z canon. After all, this is a story set in the Prime/Future/Mirai Timeline – a universe within DBZ mostly left unexplored. There's a lot of room for unhinged creativity, but I'm doing what I can to integrate what we already know about Dragon Ball Z in creative and original ways that remain true to the universe.
I've made one reference to another writer's work, and that is the fantastic Onslaught by ShadowMajin. He's a great writer that is skilled in both comedy and drama. Onslaught is a powerful action-drama that details Gohan's years fighting on his own against #17 and #18. It also pairs him and Videl together in a creative and mostly believable way. I call the period from Age 767 – 785 the "Onslaught" because it's just such an appropriate name! If you haven't read Onslaught yet, do it!
My goal for this first chapter was: Introduce readers to the world, setting, and characters without revealing too much or outright spelling it out. I feel that this can be a weakness of mine, especially in certain chapters of Demon Hunt, and I don't want my habit of giving explanations to hinder the level of engagement readers have in the story. Please let me know how I did! Bonus points if you can point out any parallels and character connections that I tried to hint at without giving too much away!
For those concerned with the update schedule, here is what I am shooting for: Tuesdays will see a new chapter of Hope! (but the chapter may be uploaded on Wednesday on occasions where I am late), and Fridays will see a new chapter of Demon Hunt (but the chapter may be uploaded on Saturday on occasions where I am late). Demon Hunt, I think, gained so much popularity not only because of writing quality, but the sheer volume and frequency of updates when it started. Unfortunately, I don't think I can handle writing a chapter every other day for this story and still do Demon Hunt by the end of the week, so we'll just have to see how this schedule goes.
Thank you all so very much for reading. Please feel free to leave me a review!
~smashbangfusion