White Lies

by Meressefers


Author's note: Thank you for the lovely reviews! I'm so pleased that my little fic about poor neglected Kibito has any readers at all. Enjoy!


Chapter 2: Decisions

"It's those Kaioshin guys," a muffled female voice said. "I'm not sure I'm even supposed to be telling you they're here."

Kibito paused outside a closed door in Mr. Satan's mansion, his hand on the doorknob. He hadn't expected anyone else to be awake so early, and yet Hercule's daughter apparently was speaking to someone on the phone in the mansion's library.

It was his first morning back in his own body. The World Champion had insisted that the two newly separated beings stay the night at the very least, to regain their strength after the procedure. To his surprise, Kibito was exhausted after emerging from Buu. He wondered at the indefatigability of Goku and Vegeta two years previous, but did not protest against Mr. Satan's suggestion.

Nor did he protest when Mr. Satan put him and Kaioshin in separate bedrooms, as strange as it was to think. Not that the human would have know how things were between the two inhabitants of the Kaioshin planet prior to their fusion. It was a relief to be alone and empty and free of another's thoughts. Especially when those thoughts heaped blame on him. Kibito avoided Kaioshin's gaze. He did not want to know how the deity felt about the arrangement, particularly if Kaioshin was equally happy.

Waking up had disoriented Kibito more than anything else, and his strange new surroundings were the least of his problems. He lay in bed in the wee hours of the morning, in the pitch-blackness, aware of his body. The mattress gave way under him in a way it wouldn't have a day earlier; Kibitoshin had been much lighter. With each breath he took, Kibito felt the increased breadth of his torso. The sheet over him brushed against sparse, wiry hairs on his chest and belly with every inhalation, rather than lying flat against bare skin. His feet hung off the bed and out from underneath the bedclothes when he extended his legs. Even his hands at rest felt wrong, as if he were wearing oversized gloves.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Everything is as it ought to be.

Breathe in.

When the sun began to rise, he too rose from bed. The first step was the trickiest; he had to rediscover his old center of gravity. He padded to the bathroom, feeling his weight with each movement. He used to congratulate himself on the grace and lightness of his step for such a light man, he remembered. But after inhabiting a smaller, more lithe frame for two years, he felt clumsy and plodding now.

He splashed cold water on his face and looked at himself in the mirror above the sink. So strange to see a magenta-hued face staring back at him. He knew that the wrinkles he saw were nothing new, and yet they too were a shock.

"I am Kibito," he said aloud, the depth of his voice surreal. "I am me."

He showered and dressed in his old Kaioshin-Kai clothes, then headed downstairs in search of breakfast and perhaps something to read. Thus he ended up outside the room he knew to be the library, inadvertently overhearing Videl Satan on the phone.

"I think I heard something outside; I should go. See you in a little bit?" A pause. "Oh. When do you think you'll be done?" Disappointed silence. "I guess so. Bye, Gohan."

Footsteps moved toward the door from the inside of the room. Kibito hurried in the direction of the kitchen as quickly as possible before the door opened.

Just as Kibito was pouring himself a glass of orange juice—oranges were one of the few Earth foods with which he was familiar—Videl entered the kitchen. She did not look surprised to see him.

"I thought it might be one of you two," she said. "Papa and Buu are never up this early. Do you need help finding something to eat?"

Kibito gazed thoughtfully at his glass of juice. "Recommendations would be welcome indeed."

"Our cook's off today, so I'm going to make myself pancakes. I'll make some for you too."

The girl set to work mixing batter and ladling it into a skillet on the stove. Kibito sat down at the kitchen table and closed his eyes, enjoying the sweet warm scent of the batter as it cooked. Soon enough, Videl set down a heaping stack of pancakes and a bottle of syrup, and laid out plates for the two of them.

"I'm sorry, I overcooked some of these," she said as she portioned the pancakes out between the two plates. "I'll take the ones that are a little too burnt."

Kibito thanked her profusely and eagerly tucked into the food in front of him. After several bites, he paused to take a sip of juice. The girl sat across the table from him, her plate untouched. The girl was clearly fighting back tears.

Kibito dropped his fork. "Is something the matter? The food is fine."

Videl shook her head, avoiding eye contact with the Shin-jin on the other side of the table. "It's not that. It's just—" She burst into tears outright and hid her face in her arms on the table, sobbing.

Kibito froze. Consoling a weeping human teenager was the last thing he had expected to do this morning. He gawked helplessly at her for what felt like an eternity. "Is—is there anything I can do?" he finally stuttered.

The girl lifted her head and shook it again. "No-o-o-o," she managed to get out between sobs. "There's nothing you can do. I'm sorry, this is so embarrassing!"

Kibito thought back to the conversation he had overheard not long before. He remembered vaguely that Videl was not just Mr. Satan's daughter, but also Gohan's girlfriend. "Is it about Gohan?"

He immediately regretted saying anything at all. Videl sobbed all the harder, confirming his suspicions. "We were—supposed to—spend—day—together. But—training—with—father—and Piccolo—at last minute."

"Ah." Kibito slumped back in his chair, unsure of how to proceed. He had lost his appetite.

"Not—first time—it's happened."

"Oh."

"Starting—to think—he doesn't like me—after all."

"Surely that can't be true." In truth, Kibito had no idea whether it could be true or not. His heart thumped in his chest. This turn in the conversation was dredging up old anxieties about Kaioshin, anxieties he wished desperately he were over. The unfortunate fact that Gohan figured in both scenarios was not lost on him.

Videl continued to weep.

Kibito swallowed nervously. "Gohan strikes me a young man who tries to honor all of his obligations. Son Goku, though a great warrior, does not plan ahead and is not always aware of matters that do not directly affect him. Goku probably asked him to train and he felt like he could not refuse." He paused as the girl's sobbing softened to a hiccup. "Does Gohan know how much this upsets you?"

Again, she shook her head "no." "How can I tell him? He's so happy to have his dad back." Her eyes were shot through with red.

Kibito stared hard at the table in front of him, willing his face not to betray any of the agitation he increasingly felt. "I know what it's like to fear that someone you care about no longer returns your affections," he said with trepidation. "No good can come of allowing such feelings to fester inside you."

By now the girl had ceased to cry. She peered curiously up at the Shin-jin—the look of someone, still a child, perpetually surprised that the adults around her had inner lives and secrets far removed from the present. Kibito turned his attention to his plate, methodically cutting up his remaining pancakes. Videl stood up and began to clear her now-cold plate of burnt pancakes away.

After a couple moments of silence, Kibito felt but did not hear another presence enter the kitchen. Kaioshin. He concentrated even harder on the breakfast he no longer wished to eat. It was bad enough that he had blurted out what he had to a distraught teenager whom he barely knew. He hoped that the innocent self-absorption of youth prevented her from drawing any further conclusions.

"Good morning, Videl, Kibito," the deity said airly. "It smells lovely in here. What are you cooking?"

"I made pancakes. There's still batter left. Would you like some?" Videl's voice sounded distant through the throbbing panic in Kibito's mind.

"Oh yes, please."

He wondered what Kaioshin thought of the situation he had walked into. No one could miss that the girl had been crying very recently. He excused himself from the table as soon as possible, having resolved to spend as little time in the kitchen as he could manage.

As he sped down the hallway, the doorbell sounded, startling him. Unsure whether or not Videl had heard it all the way back in the kitchen, he tiptoed to the door himself and peeped out from behind a curtain.

On the doorstep stood a host of men and women brandishing microphones, notepads, and cameras. As soon as Kibito so much as touched the curtain, a dozen or more different flashbulbs went off.

"Mr. Satan! Mr. Satan!" several voices shouted in unison.

Kibito jumped back from the door, blinded, and headed back the way he had come. By that time, Videl had come out of the kitchen. Kaioshin trailed a few steps behind her, wearing a concerned expression. Kibito gestured inarticulately at the door.

Videl frowned. "Is it the reporters again?"

"'Again'?" Kibito and Kaioshin's voices rung out together.

"They've been coming every day for the last few days to ask Papa about what happened to his hotel. And he keeps encouraging them by saying something every time they show up." Videl cast a fiery look at the grand staircase leading directly to the front door. "They better not have woken him up."

Too late. The Champ was already approaching the top of the staircase in a flashy red bathrobe. The three already downstairs shared a significant look. The girl then moved to physically block the door with her body as her father descended.

"Papa," she said in a warning tone. "You're not going to talk to those reporters again, are you?"

Mr. Satan squeezed his daughter into a bear hug, then slipped past her to the door. "It's all part of being the world's greatest martial arts champion."

"But Papa—"

"No 'buts'. I've got to do my job." He planted a kiss on the forehead of the glowering teenager and turned to open the door, a toothy grin pasted across his face. Videl stormed off as clicks, flashes, and the cries of the reporters mixed with microphone feedback flooded the hallway. Kibito did not think it wise to follow her, but seeing the mass of people trying to push their way in through the open door sent him scurrying back to the kitchen as well.

Videl was angrily dumping dishes in the sink. "He never listens. Mama would be so upset if she were still around." She didn't so much as look up when Kibito entered the room; he could not tell if she spoke to him or herself.

"Would it help if one of us had a word with him?" Kaioshin offered. Kibito felt goosebumps rise as the deity glided into the room.

The girl threw herself down onto a chair. "That's not the point. He promised me he was going to stop showboating so much." She stared bitterly at the wall. "He just can't keep himself from telling huge whooping lies whenever someone sticks a mic in his face. Can't wait to hear what the news says about his hotel tonight."

Since the defeat of Buu, Kibito—or more accurately, Kibitoshin—had considered Mr. Satan a lovable oaf, whose generosity and large heart more than made up for his self-aggrandizing bluster. It struck him now that Hercule's tall tales might be less amusing when one had to live with their consequences daily.

And we let him take credit for Buu's demise. He wondered what it was like to walk through Satan City every day, Mr. Satan's face hovering ubiquitously and ominously above the streets on billboards like a flight of menacing birds, and plastered on magazines and posters and tubes of toothpaste—all the while knowing that his fame was built on a sham. Perhaps that was a mistake.

Videl was on the brink of tears again. Kibito could see that much. And no wonder, between dealing with her father and Gohan and politely engaging with two near-strangers while holding it together—not to mention the stress of having broken down in front of one of those near-strangers. He decided it was best to leave the girl in peace and went back to the library.

Mr. Satan's library held fewer books overall than Kibito expected, and far too many books that Kibito did not know or had no interest in. Many of the tomes were visibly brand-new and unopened, suggesting that few people ever actually cracked a book open here on a regular basis. He eased himself onto a lavishly upholstered sofa in the middle of the room. The Labrador puppy Bee, now fully grown, dozed on the carpet next to the sofa; he lifted his eyes sleepily to take note of the intruder, then dozed off again. The dog knows me, even if he's never seen me in my own skin. Kibito wondered if Bee slept in this room to avoid the chaos that trailed behind Buu and Mr. Satan at all times, or if he had followed Videl downstairs earlier in the morning.

Kaioshin entered the room like a whisper. "I thought I might find you here." He browsed the shelves peremptorily, his red-booted feet floating a few feet above the ground. Finally, he perched on a leather armchair opposite Kibito. "I heard what you said to Mr. Satan's daughter about not allowing bad feelings to fester."

Kibito's face heated up against his will, but he could also see a blush creep across Kaioshin's lavender cheeks. It gave him some comfort to know that the deity felt discomfited as well.

"Obviously things are not—cannot—be the same between us as they once were. And I'd like to think that we both know where we stand." Kaioshin could not look Kibito in the eye; he might have noticed if he had been able to maintain eye-contact himself. "But is there, ah, anything else we should talk about?"

Kibito carefully considered the words he wanted to say. A certain thought had lurked in the back of his mind for hours, a thought he could barely admit to himself, it was so against his sense of propriety. Now, after the stressful events of the morning, common sense should have warned him away from it completely.

"No, Master, not about that. Like you said, we both know where we stand."

Kaioshin's blush deepened. "Of course." He looked down and adjusted the cuffs of his shirtsleeves. "Shall we return home soon? My ancestor must wonder where we are. He'll be in for a shock, won't he?" He smiled sadly.

Kibito took a deep breath. Here goes nothing. He forced himself to hold his head up and keep his gaze steady. "I would like to stay on Earth for a while."

"'A while'?" The deity pursed his lips in confusion. "A couple more hours? The rest of the day?"

"No, Master. Indefinitely. By myself."

Silence overpowered the room. Even the gentle snoring of the dog ceased abruptly. The weight of what he had just said laid heavily on Kibito's chest. He wondered if he'd ever get enough air again.

"What are you saying, Kibito? Do you no longer wish to serve me?"

"I don't know."

"B-but—surely we—" Kaioshin's voice rose in panic and hurt. "Even if things can't continue as they were, you are still my best friend, my closest friend, the only person who knows what it's like to live on that empty planet for years upon years upon years. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

"It means a lot to me." Breathe in, breathe out. "But I need to clear my mind. We were in each other's heads for too long." And far too soon after Gohan came into our lives, he dared not say aloud, though the deity almost certainly perceived it. Kaioshin's obvious attraction to the strapping young Saiyan youth in preference to Kibito would have been far easier to bear had Kibito not been forced to experience it himself, over and over again, inside their fused form. So many things would have been easier without their thoughts entangled for so long.

"I understand," Kaioshin said after considerable hesitation. He stood and walked unsteadily to the door, turning to look back at Kibito. "I never meant to hurt you." He left the library without waiting for a response.

Kibito sank into the sofa, his heart heavy. Beside him on the floor, the dog Bee lifted his head and licked Kibito's hand, dangling from the armrest. He mindlessly patted the dog back. The sun was shining in through a high window. He peered out at the blue, blue sky—a color still alien to him despite the many times he had been to Earth in the recent past. He inhaled deeply and wondered if he had made the right choice after all.