Going Gold

Chapter 3

Tesserot

Gohan was a great storyteller. I'd listened to his tales about the past hundreds of times before, but he always managed to make them sound new and exciting every time he told them. Ever since I was a little kid, I was amazed by the stories he spun from a confident voice and a long, long memory. Everything. He remembered everything. He remembered the exact color of Perfect Cell's eyes, what it had felt like to stand in his father's presence the first time he went Super Saiyan on Namek, even the sound of the door hissing shut when he was thrown in a pod by his sadistic uncle Radditz. What was the most riveting about these tales was that they were a hundred percent true. I knew most of them by heart now, but I pleaded along with my little brother and sister to hear them again when we visited Gohan that day. It was a semi-rare occurrence that all five of my siblings and I were in one place at one time, but today we were staying at Gohan and Videl's house. Why? I have no idea. That's just what my mom had planned today.

But I wasn't complaining. It was cold today, winter was definitely coming, and it was nice to stay indoors with my family and listen to Gohan's many stories.

"Everyone comfortable? Pan, you have enough room, there's no need to push Kísta, okay?" Gohan said easily while crammed between the two young girls with barely any room to move. Veito sat on the edge of the sofa and I perched on one of the armrests. Goten and Trunks were even there, leaning against the back of the couch casually as if they could leave anytime, but I knew they'd stay to hear whatever tale Gohan was about to tell. Even if they were in their early twenties, one never grows too old for a good story.

"Now... which story do you want to hear?"

"Tell us about Frieza and the first time Dad went Super," I suggested.

"No, I've heard that one a million times; tell us about fighting Super Buu when you got your Mystic powers!" Pan pleaded.

"Trunks and I were there for that one," Goten muttered, "What about the Cell Game? That's always a good story."

Then Veito spoke up quietly, and I had to agree with him on this one.

"Tell us how Mom and Dad met."

Everyone agreed enthusiastically.

"Okay, but I'll warn you, it's not a very romantic story."

"Good." Trunks said. Goten slapped him.

"It all began when I was about four years old..." Gohan intoned; that faraway look coming into his eyes that showed up whenever he was about to recount his distant memories.

The scene he spun painted a picture in my head.

"...I woke up and found out Dad was dead. I was alone with Piccolo, and he wasn't such a nice guy back then. I had no idea where I was; but all around me were huge plateaus and endless wilderness, and I didn't know it at the time, but beyond that was a savage desert, and a violent sea. Piccolo told me that the world was in danger, and he'd taken me on as his unwilling student to train me in one year's time to be able to defeat the threat coming closer to Earth with every day. He told me the Saiyans were coming, and they wanted to kill us."

"That was Tӫtka, right?" Kísta piped up, her little black tail flicking excitedly.

"That's right. Back then, he was a deadly enemy, and I didn't like my chances as I trained day in and day out not just to fight, but to stay alive in such a wild, cruel place. Every day it was a struggle just to keep food in my belly, and to keep pushing on, trying to get stronger. And somewhere in the back of my mind I knew the worst was yet to come, and I dreaded the day that that short year would come to a close. Knowing I had a very slim chance of survival against these Saiyans.

"But eventually, that day came. We knew the Saiyans were going to come, and I felt so strong after the rigorous training and life in the rugged land I'd been stuck in for a year. Little did I know my strength wouldn't be enough. None of our strengths would be enough. But I didn't have to fight alone. Piccolo, Yamcha, Krillin, Chaotzu, and Tien were there too. There were only two Saiyans; Vegeta, and a much larger Saiyan named Nappa."

"What did Nappa look like?" I interrupted, wanting to add to the picture in my head. I'd heard the story before, but since I'd never seen Nappa, I still had a hard time picturing him without the aid of a description. Of course I could picture Mom, but I doubted he'd looked the way I visualized him back then. He would be far younger, of course, and much less experienced. And back then he wasn't one of the good guys; in fact he was about as bad as you could get without being pure evil.

"Nappa was really bulky and tall, with broad shoulders... I remember his shoulders really well. He wore the same yellow and blue uniform that all of Frieza's flunkies wore, though we didn't know that Frieza even existed back then. He wore gloves, but they didn't cover his fingers, and boots that were enormous. He had no hair,"

Kísta giggled, probably trying to picture a bald Saiyan. It wasn't easy, I'll admit, most Saiyans were defined by their distinctive hair.

"And he had a blue scouter. I told you what those are right?"

I nodded and so did my siblings.

"He had a thin mustache too, and a dark brown tail around his waist, like a belt."

"Like what we do when we're keeping up our guard?" I asked.

"Exactly."

Gohan paused a moment, closing his eyes as if trying to draw up the memories from so long ago.

"But despite Nappa's size and power, it was your mother that scared me the most."

"Why?" Veito asked.

Gohan chuckled shakily, remembering an old fear.

"Vegeta was just... there's no word for how he was back then, and I'll do my best to compensate for that. He was so much smaller than Nappa. Smaller than Piccolo and even Yamcha and Tien. But there was this fire in his eyes that was just terrifying. He was so confident, and his power radiated from him so heavily that I could almost feel it. I knew he could kill me as easily as a housefly. And the scariest part was that he knew it too."

He drew a deep breath and went on.

"He wore gloves back then. That was something that really defined Vegeta until more recent years. Every time I saw him, he had the same elbow-length white gloves. Every time."

"Why not now?" Goten asked from behind the couch. I'd almost forgotten he and Trunks were there.

Gohan shrugged, "I don't know. He still does sometimes, but I think Dad managed to get him out of the habit somehow. Around the time Dad made him his mate, Vegeta stopped wearing gloves. So I think that's why. He wasn't as insecure anymore."

"Was he insecure back then?" Pan queried.

Gohan looked thoughtful, "Maybe. I think he always had some of those inhibitions. He never let them show, though, and the first time I met him, I would have sworn he feared nothing.

"Anyhow, Nappa fought us first. Actually, the Saibamen did, but that's another story. All of us fought with everything we had... well, most of us. I was too scared to even move. And I knew I was letting them down, when Yamcha, Chaotzu and Tien died. I would have died too, I was right in Nappa's sights, but Piccolo saved me. And he paid for that with his life. And then I really got scared. I knew I still had Krillin there, but I knew if Piccolo couldn't stand up to the Saiyans, I didn't have a chance. And then the most amazing thing happened."

"Dad came?" I asked.

"Dad came," he nodded, "He saved my life and Krillin's, and beat that guy Nappa so hard he couldn't even stand. Being near him, when he was so angry and powerful... it was amazing. Of course, it was just a sliver of his true potential, but back then, it was the most incredible thing I'd ever seen. Dad could beat these guys. I knew it. I was sure of it."

"What happened to Nappa?" Kísta inquired.

Gohan smirked, "Vegeta blew him up. I have no earthly idea why, even now. Probably thought he was useless if he couldn't fight, and I'll bet he just got annoyed by the big lug. I was more afraid of him at the time than annoyed, but looking back, I think I should have been more the latter.

"And Dad knew he had to fight Vegeta. Knew it right from the beginning, there was no reasoning with him. And I think, maybe Dad was excited a little. I might never understand it, but it was Saiyan psychology. The stronger the opponent, the more of a rush he gets trying to defeat them. And Dad knew he either had to defeat Vegeta, or die. There was no middle ground.

"He told me to run. Told me and Krillin to go home and leave him to fight alone. I remember I was afraid again. But this time it was because I wasn't sure if I'd ever see my dad again."

I tried to imagine what that was like, but my imagination failed me. I always counted on my parents being there for me, and I couldn't even think of life without them there. And Gohan was barely five years old back then, it must have been terrible.

"I didn't see most of their fight, but I could sense it. And even though Dad had gotten so strong in Otherworld, Vegeta was still stronger."

"Mom was stronger?" I asked.

"Yes. Back then, his power was almost double what Dad's was. It seemed unlikely that Dad would get out alive, especially when Vegeta created an artificial moon and transformed."

"He could do that?" Veito sounded startled.

"Yeah, and he probably still can. Don't ask him to, though, I don't think anything good could come from five full-blooded Oozarus rampaging all over the place. One was bad enough.

"And the next time I saw Dad, he was being suffocated by the giant ape's huge hands. Squeezed almost to death like a child's toy."

"I bet you felt angry," I said. I know I'd be.

"I was definitely more afraid than angry. I just wanted all of that to be over. I just wanted Dad to be okay. And I just wanted Vegeta to leave. I didn't care if he died or not, I just wanted him gone.

"Then Vegeta lost his tail, and he returned to normal. I was lucky, he was about two seconds from stomping me into the ground. And even then, even with the combined and weary efforts of my beaten, broken father, my friend Krillin and my terrified self, it was all we could do just to hold him off. Dad couldn't even fight anymore, but even he gave us some kind of advantage."

"How?" Pan asked.

"He had already collected a lot of energy from the Earth with the hope of creating a Spirit Bomb, but he'd never got a chance to use it. He gave the energy to Krillin, and when the ball of energy missed, it fell to me to bounce it back and hopefully hit our target.

"I didn't know if it would work. I was almost positive it would sear right through me until I was nothing but dust. Instead I deflected the bomb and it flew straight at Vegeta. Hit him head-on. And when he fell to the ground and stayed there, we thought it was over.

"But he got back up. Saiyan endurance. Somehow he was still able to fight even after taking a hit like that. But he didn't get far. The fake moon he'd made turned out to be our salvation. And I don't remember why I got my tail back, but I turned Oozaru and attacked that Saiyan with the kind of senseless violence only our most primal form can inspire. He cut off my tail, and I landed on top of him, losing consciousness but managing to crush him nonetheless, winning the day in the action of falling."

"And then what happened?" Goten asked.

"I was unconscious. I didn't see what happened. But I remember Krillin filling me in later when I was in the hospital with him and Dad. He said Vegeta tried to run away, calling his space pod with some kind of device. And Krillin wasn't about to let him go so easily. He threatened to kill him, and I think he would have without blinking if Dad hadn't intervened."

"Dad saved Mom?" Kísta asked.

"That's right. I'm not entirely sure why... it's a mystery, how his mind works. Most everyone thought Dad was an battle-hungry idiot who just wanted to fight him again and test his strength, but I don't think that was it. I think he saw something in Vegeta. Something worth saving. I think he saw a piece of himself, in the last breathing member of his old race that had all but died out. And maybe he hoped somewhere deep down that Vegeta would become our ally someday. I guess his intuition was right, or none of you would be here now."

I smiled, knowing the story was over. It was always fascinating to listen to my parents' shared past. It was interesting when they spoke of it, but it was amazing when Gohan did. He just had a way with words that caught the attention of listeners and held it.

I hoped someday I'd have that ability too.

X

Algebra is hell. Actually, scratch that, school is hell. Veito's lucky. He has tutors that come to his house and teach him and he doesn't even have to leave home to go to school. I asked Dad about it once, and he said Veito couldn't go because he could have an attack during the day and no one would know what to do. So Veito gets to stay home with his parents and study, instead of forcing himself to at least remotely fit in in a place full of ignorant humans that look at him like some kind of odd bug with lots of antennae. That's what they do to me.

Anyway. The day seemed to drag by, and I was already sore from sparring with my mother and Trunks yesterday. I'd gotten a black eye from the older of the two, and it hadn't faded today. Oh well. So what if I got strange looks because I look like I got hit with a sledgehammer in the face? At least I'd managed to elicit a proud smile from my birth parent. One of the few I'd seen from him. And I'd managed to let out some of my frustration during the physical exercise that made my muscles sing with adrenaline and made my mind quiet itself. There was something about battle that I just loved. I guess that's because I'm Saiyan.

I had to see the social worker today. Something about showing up to school with bruises that looked like I'd lost a fight with a gang. I muttered my excuses and left to return to class, though I'd get no relief from the questions and nervous glances there.

Somewhere between trying to solve for x and trying not to literally kill half my team in volleyball, I thought about Gohan's story. Of course I'd heard it tons of times, but it made me wonder... What if I'd grown up the way he had? What if I'd faced those hardships and fought those battles? I would be a very different person. But hell, I barely knew who I was right now. I was just starting to figure it out, and judging from the fact that even my father had admitted he wasn't sure who he really was, I had a long way to go.

TBC