Goku was not there.
It should have been the last thing Gohan noted, rather than the first. The first should really have been his mother's face in the crowd, Piccolo's, Goten's, little Suri's... Bulma's...even Dende's face was in the sea of people. Everyone else was there. But no, the absence of one face, the sight of that empty seat, broke him. Nearly broke him.
Left him hollow in the least. Gohan closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, and faked a smile as his name was called.
Valedictorian. He should have been proud. Very proud. And he was… His speech, well, Videl had described it as inspired, but that's what lovers did, right? He stood, walking with a forced bounce over to the podium, tapping his paper - a detailed and specific outline, he would not be reading word for word - on the oak surface before adjusting the small microphone.
"Hello, everyone…"
He spoke, and kept speaking, speaking and speaking and speaking, telling the story of his high school experience, of being the geeky kid who was surprisingly good at sports without any idea as to why… Talking about the music they to which they listened, and what memories a certain song may recall. The importance of family - he paused to thank his mother here, "for always being at my side, sometimes hovering, but always being so proud of me for finishing even the most simple of math problems," and Piccolo "my second father, and best the step-dad I could hope for, even before you and Mom finally got together," and friends. He smiled a fake smile, just convincing enough to fool everyone - he could thank the months following his father's death for his acting skills - and finished with a quote.
His class and their families erupted into applause, cheers. He smiled, and waved. And returned to his seat.
The remainder of the ceremony passed in a blur, his name was called to receive his diploma - or rather, an empty folder. He would need to pick up the real one inside the school.
Returned to his seat.
Waited.
Cheered with the others, threw his cap in the air, caught it...
Dark eyes looked once more towards a tall green figure, ki senses straining to feel someone he knew was not there, but still hoped had made an appearance. Piccolo seemed to feel Gohan's eyes, and the teen looked away as his stepfather gazed his way.
"Hey, Gohan, come on, let's use our above average speed to get our diplomas first, come on!" Videl grabbed his hand, tugging him along back towards the school, seemingly oblivious to his lackluster behavior. Then again, he was good at hiding it. One had to be, otherwise everyone else would worry. And Gohan did not like others to worry about him...
"Oh, sweetheart!" Chichi threw her arms around him, standing on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. How long ago had he grown too tall? He could not remember. "Your speech was amazing, I loved it!" She had tears in her eyes, and he smiled, a real smile this time. His mother was wonderful. Truly wonderful. The best mother in the world. Gohan embraced her back, hiding his face in her neck for a moment. Her voice softened. "Gohan, baby, I know how disappointed you must be about your fa -"
"Don't be silly!" Gohan laughed, straightening, "it's not like I really expected him to show up, right? I mean, he probably lost track of time and is competing in some tournament in Otherworld, right?" He laughed, rubbing the back of his head and ignoring the confused looks from those around him. "Let's...let's look at all these papers I've got, huh? Let's see, here's my diploma, here are some honors and awards... I mean look at these!" Too slowly, the attention slipped from Goku's absence to his accomplishments. When it finally did, Gohan was relieved, if only slightly, as his chest still felt heavy.
Later that night, the weight grew to be too much. He was alone in his room, staring at his bulletin board stuck full of family photos.
Goten's first day home from the hospital, his first birthday, Piccolo and his mother's wedding, Suri's egg and an agitated Piccolo clutching it, Suri's hatching, Goten kissing Suri's chubby cheek, Piccolo and Chichi asleep on the couch with Suri nestled between them, himself and Piccolo, with his mother, his brothers... Videl... His father.
Gohan's eyes watered.
He swiped violently at them, taking a deep breath. It was fine. It was not as if he had really, truly expected the man to show. Had he?
Deep, deep down, a small part of him obviously had, otherwise he would not be so crushed.
He stood, chair nearly toppling and barely caught in time, neatly pushed under the desk before he left the room.
He needed a glass of water. Maybe juice if they had purple grape. Or pomegranate-limeade. Gohan dragged himself downstairs. It was so hard to lift his feet. Why did this hurt so badly? Had he really expected Goku to come to the ceremony?
No sooner had he poured himself a glass of grape juice - Suri must have finished the limeade - then Piccolo slipped into the kitchen. Gohan paused, watching as Piccolo leaned against the wall.
"You sounded quite confident up behind that podium, Kid." Gohan nodded slowly, raising his glass to his lips.
"Thanks," he murmured after swallowing.
Piccolo looked concerned, but said nothing else for a long time. Gohan tried to ignore him, finishing his juice rather slowly. Mind nagging him. He tried to ignore it, but was no more successful in that than in not paying attention to Piccolo standing a few feet away from him. He set the glass down on the counter, avoiding his step-father's eyes.
How could he even think of Piccolo as a step-father? After all the man had done for him? No.. Piccolo was...Piccolo was… Oh, he knew what Piccolo was to him, but could not bring himself to admit it.
Besides, Piccolo knew.
"Are you -"
But Gohan cut him off, lurching forward and crushing his arms around Piccolo's solid frame, tears filling his eyes as he buried his face in the namekian's chest.
"Why didn't my dad come today?"
God, he sounded like a child. Sobbing like a baby, Gohan registered Piccolo's arms encircle his shoulders. The sensation only made him cry harder, weeping pathetically and tightening his hold on Piccolo.
A large hand rubbed his back, the other pulling him closer, ever closer, until it felt like he and Piccolo were stuck in a garbage compactor. It was comforting, grounding, and yet it reminded him of Goku, of what he wanted from his father, and the sobbing continued. "It was my high school graduation!" Gohan's voice was muffled in Piccolo's chest, "I told him about it months ago and he promised!" How childish that sounded. "He promised."
Piccolo was silent for a moment, and Gohan almost thought that he would not speak.
"He is a fool."
And those were the words that Gohan knew would be said, and had not wanted to hear. He had wanted to hear that Goku had needed to defeat some upstart warlord in a distant galaxy, and that the man had simply not had the time to explain the situation. But he knew Piccolo. And he knew that Piccolo thought relatively little of Goku's parenting skills and style - or rather lack there of. He knew that Piccolo was by far the superior in terms of child rearing, despite a rocky start. Piccolo, at least, was there, and always had been. And always would be, as he would outlive them all. Gohan did not contemplate that cruel fate; it was something so completely unrelated to his current predicament.
"But…" What was there to say? "He promised," Gohan whispered, even as he closed his eyes, nestling into Piccolo's embrace as the namekian pulled him closer, murmuring softly in Namekian ruffling his hair, rocking him back and forth slowly…