White Lies
by Meressefers
Chapter 3: A Day Out
The first three days after Kaioshin returned to their planet passed in a fog of relief and guilt. Kibito slid through the days like a sleepwalker, barely aware of his surroundings. Mr. Satan had graciously invited him to stay as long as he liked—a fortunate occurrence, since Kibito was in no state to find a new place to lay his head. Each morning felt like a waking dream even hazier than the one before it. Every night blended into every other night. He never remembered falling asleep, or even turning the lights off, when he woke up the next morning; he only remembered worrying about what he had said to Kaioshin, and what Kaioshin had said to him.
An unexpected visitor pulled him out of his funk.
Late on the fourth morning, practically lunchtime, a loud knock on his bedroom door woke him abruptly. A member of Mr. Satan's household staff entered. "You have a visitor, sir."
"A visitor?" Kibito panicked internally for a moment before realizing that he did not feel his master's familiar energy nearby.
An equally familiar human face peeped into the room through the cracked door. "Is it okay to come in?"
Son Gohan entered the bedroom, his eyes full of concern. Kibito's stomach tied itself in a knot at the thought the he might be an object of pity to this young Earthling. This particular young Earthling, (near-) savior of the universe, apple of Kaioshin's eye. He fought the urge to pull the sheets up over his face or some other undignified gesture of defeat. The staff member left, closing the door behind him.
"So the fusion really is broken, huh?" Gohan scratched his head and smiled awkwardly. "I mean, we all could sense your energy—and Kaioshin-sama's too, for awhile—and then Videl told me what had happened, but it was still pretty hard to believe until I saw it with my own eyes."
"'We all'?"
"You know—me, my dad, Piccolo. Probably Vegeta too, but I haven't talked to him about it." Gohan adjusted his glasses. "Was it supposed to be a secret? Videl wasn't sure."
Kibito ignored the question. "Why are you here, Gohan?" He cringed inwardly at the sternness of his tone, but the words had already spilled out of his mouth. He cringed even harder when the boy had the good sense to look sheepish at the question.
"Well, I don't want to intrude," he began, "but from what Videl says, it sounds like it would do you some good to get out of the house and do something. Walk to the park with me?"
Ah, there it was. No mistake, this is a pity visit. "That's hardly necessary," he said stiffly.
"You don't have to do anything you don't want," said Gohan. He sounded somewhat hurt, to Kibito's mixed satisfaction and shame. "I just thought you might like some company."
Just as the teenaged demi-Saiyan turned to leave, a steady rumbling noise filled the hallway outside the room from downstairs, amplified by the open space over the grand staircase. People—and a large number of them—chattering away with each other, coughing and shuffling and rustling their jackets.
"What is that?" said Kibito.
"Didn't Mr. S warn you? Once a month, he opens the house to the public for tours." Gohan raised an eyebrow. "You sure you want to stay for this?"
Kibito sighed and sat up in bed. "All right. I shall go."
Since Kibito had not been outside in the past three days, he was unprepared for the number of stares he attracted as he and Gohan walked down the street away from Mr. Satan's mansion. So many wide, peeping eyes fixed on him at once. Three middle-aged women engaged in animated conversation fell silent as soon as they caught sight of him. A flock of preteen boys walking in the opposite direction began snickering after they passed him. A toddler took one look at him and dropped her ice cream cone, then immediately burst into tears.
"I do not recall receiving this level of attention at the World Martial Arts Tournament," said Kibito.
"Hmm," said Gohan. "I think the people on Papaya Island are used to seeing some weird stuff when the tournament rolls around."
Kibito narrowed his eyes at his companion.
"Not that I'm saying you're weird!" Gohan laughed nervously. "Maybe it would help if you wore something less… conspicuous?"
Kibito looked down at his flowing orange sash and broad-shouldered red doublet edged in gold, clothing he had worn for thousands of years on Kaioshin-Kai before the fusion. Naturally, none of the humans he encountered on the sidewalk wore anything remotely similar. In any case, he could do without the reminder of Kaioshin. "I see what you mean."
"I don't know where we'll find you clothes, though. Maybe the big-and-tall store where Grandpa shops?" Gohan scratched his head as they stepped into the park four blocks away from the Satan mansion. "Hey, wait a minute—you could materialize yourself some clothes, couldn't you? Like you did for me on the Kaioshin planet?"
"I need to have something in mind first." Kibito mentally scrolled through the Earth clothing with which he was most familiar: mostly the training gis and skintight spandex of the various Z-Senshi, and the chest-baring garb his flamboyant host favored. He shuddered at the last. "Something proper and dignified."
"Whaddaya say we go window-shopping instead and get you some ideas?"
A frisbee whizzed over Kibito's head, barely avoiding contact with the pointed end of his left ear. He nodded curtly. "Let us go."
A few hours later, Gohan and Kibito entered a bakery in Satan City's bustling shopping district. Heads were still turning wherever the pink giant went. There was, after all, nothing to be done for his height or the unearthly color of his skin. Nevertheless, he felt like less of a spectacle in his new outfit: a crisp blue button-down shirt and neatly fitted trousers, with shiny leather shoes. His mirrored sunglasses were further protection against the stares.
"I promised Mom I'd pick up a cake for tonight. She really likes their chocolate," Gohan explained as they stepped into the shop. A bell hanging on the door tinkled. The teenager squatted to look at the items in a glass display case, then looked back at Kibito. "Oh! I almost forgot. You're invited to dinner."
Kibito was taken aback. "Why?"
"Why not?" said Gohan. The clerk behind the counter asked him what he wanted, and he pointed to a lavishly frosted layer cake. As the clerk boxed and rang up his order, the demi-Saiyan turned to Kibito. "Nothing fancy or anything. It'll just be my family. And—"
All of a sudden, as they stepped out of the bakery into the street, a large round form came barreling down the sidewalk, mowing down fellow pedestrians. The form pushed past the two of them as well. To his surprise, Kibito noted that it was Majin Buu.
"Hey Buu!" Gohan called out, but to no avail. By that point, the creature had pushed his way into the bakery. "Weird. It's not like him not to say 'hi.'" Gohan frowned, then shrugged. "So what do you say about dinner?"
Against his better judgment, Kibito found himself saying yes.
"Great!" The half-Saiyan beamed. "Well, it's about five now, and we're eating at six. You can come with me now and hang out at the house, or you can come by yourself later. Your choice."
Kibito thought of the flood of people surely still poking around Mr. Satan's mansion, and agreed to leave with Gohan. They stepped into an alley, out of sight, and Kai-kai'ed away.
A breeze blew throught Kibito's long white hair when they appeared at Mount Paozu. The country air had more of a bite than the smoggy atmosphere of Satan City. He cast a wide glance around him. Here green surrounded him: the leaves rustling in the trees, the sharp-bladed grass scraping against his new shoes. The Son house stood out, a white beacon in the midst of a clearing up ahead. A square of plowed land lay beside the house.
They approached the house, grass crunching underfoot. Gohan frowned. "I wonder where everyone is. It's never this quiet."
As they drew closer, the wind carried a whimper towards them. Kibito tensed up. Beside him, the demi-Saiyan lengthened his stride purposefully.
On the ground a few feet away from the house lay a ladder—and a crumpled human form, slender hands clutching at the grass. The figure struggled to turn its face up at the newcomers; one eye was swollen shut. "Gohan…"
Gohan shrieked and dropped the box; his mother's cake rolled out onto the grass. Through the swelling, Kibito just barely recognized the Son family matriarch, a woman whom he had only met once before. He heard a buzzing noise from above. A gray, papery mass hung from the highest point under the eaves of the roof.
"The hornets… Gohan…"
The calm, collected Gohan who had fought Majin Buu was not on display here, not with his mother lying hurt by a foe whom brute force could not vanquish. The teenager stared helplessly at Chichi's puffy red face. Kibito lowered himself to the ground beside the woman and noted that her leg lay at a funny angle over a large, knotty stick lying in the grass. She probably broke her leg too, he thought grimly. But he knew what to do. He laid his hands on her, as he had laid his hands on her son two years previously, and watched as health pulsed back into her through his magic.
Gohan insisted on helping his mother into the house, despite her protestations to the contrary. Kibito followed them in, ducking low to get through the door. He made sure the door sealed shut, lest any hornets found their way in.
As he had surmised, Chi-chi had attempted to remove the hornets' nest from the side of the house. The nest's inhabitants had swarmed to defend their home, and she fell sideways off the ladder onto the branch on the ground. She had attempted to drag herself through the grass into the house to reach a phone, but was in too much pain to go very far. "And no," she intoned meaningfully, apparently expecting some sort of argument or objection, "it could not wait. Not when we have"—here she lowered her voice to a stage whisper, glancing furtively up at the pink giant—"company."
"But where was Dad in all this?" said Gohan.
"That's a damn good question. He went to Capsule Corp. to pick up your brother and never came back. That was two hours ago. Ran off and left me to finish harvesting the radishes by myself." Chi-chi sniffed angrily. "So I hope neither of you is expecting to eat tonight. I haven't even had the chance to start dinner."
"Don't worry about it, Mom. I'll take care of dinner."
Of course you will, thought Kibito. Ever the dutiful little boy. A moment later, he reproached himself for this snide and petty thought. There was, after all, nothing unadmirable about this youth taking some weight off of his mother's shoulders, nor had there been anything less than noble about him accepting the task given to him by Kaioshin. He vowed to stop letting jealousy override common sense. The demi-Saiyan always acted from the purest of motives, he knew. Nevertheless, it struck him that, as with healing Chi-chi, the situation presented him with an opportunity to save the day in a way that Gohan could not.
He sighed and stood up. "Let me."
The young man was already headed into the kitchen. He spun around, his head at a tilt. "Oh no, you're our guest. Can you even cook, anyway? Earth food, I mean."
Kibito admitted that he could not. "But I can materialize a feast fit for the gods themselves."
Gohan hesitated, but Chi-chi looked greedily at the Shin-jin. "That does sound pretty good. And I can always use the beef I thawed today tomorrow." She clapped her hands together, and her son conceded defeat.
"Wow," Chi-chi said as she gazed upon the food Kibito had produced.
It was an impressive array of dishes from Kaioshin-Kai. Songbirds baked with a honey glaze, dripping with juice. Roast flanks of the placid, bovine tebnoue-beast, its savory odor circling up towards the ceiling. A hearty stew made from the tall green stalks of the nanouf-plant, and a curried dish making use of the same plant's tangy yellow fruit. Kibito was particular proud of a tart filled with the juicy red berries of the qima-tree and covered with sparkling sugar crystals. The Sons' ancient, wobbly dining table buckled under the weight of all the food.
"You've doomed yourself, big guy," Gohan said with a laugh. "My mother will never leave you alone now that she knows you can make food appear out of nowhere for free."
"Hey now!" Chi-chi playfully swatted at her eldest. "You try feeding three Saiyans on a budget!"
They all laughed. Kibito couldn't remember the last time he had felt so relaxed. It was nice to be appreciated, even if only for the innate skills he gave little thought to: basic healing and conjuration. Perhaps especially for those little skills. Kaioshin would never have oohed and ahhed over the mound of food the Earthlings found so tantalizing. A sense of simple satisfaction washed over him as they sat down to eat.
Goku did not return with his youngest son until almost seven o'clock, long after the proposed dinner time. By that point, Chi-chi and Gohan had already eaten their fair share of the feast Kibito laid out for them.
"Boy, does it smell good in here! I wonder what Chi-chi is making," said Goku. He had appeared by Instant Transmission with Goten sitting on his shoulders. Not paying attention to where he was going, he nearly walked straight into his own wife. "Hey there, Chi-chi!"
Chi-chi glowered, the goodwill created by Kibito's feast evaporating in an instant. "Don't you 'hey' me, mister! Just where the HFIL have you been?"
"You know, I went to get Goten, and one thing led to another and—"
Kibito, as of yet unnoticed by the Saiyan, cleared his throat. When he caught Goku's eye, Goku did a double take, then grinned from ear to ear.
"Kibito! How's it going?" Goku's grin faded almost as soon as it appeared. "Oh. Is it already 6?"
Chi-chi pointed to a clock on the wall."What do you think?"
The question hung uncomfortably in the air. Kibito had the queasy feeling that he had stumbled into an argument that had been had many times before. He looked over at Gohan; the young man's face was strained. Goku, befuddled, explained that he had lost track of the time and forgotten all about dinner.
"Well, obviously," Chi-chi snapped. "This can't keep happening. And don't you dare tell me that everything is fine and I'm overreacting," she said as Goku opened his mouth to respond. "Everything is not fine." She recounted the events of the afternoon.
"But you're okay now, right?" said Goku.
Flames burned in Chi-chi's eyes. "That's not the point. I wouldn't have had to undergo all that if you hadn't left me in the lurch!"
She stormed out of the room. It disturbed Kibito how quickly Goku turned his attention to the food remaining on the table after his wife's exit. The Saiyan hoovered up every last bit left untouched by the other three, with the exception of what little Goten consumed.
"This is really good stuff, Kibito!" Goku said between bites, upon learning the origin of the food. "I wish I had gotten here when it was still warm, though."
Tension radiated off Gohan. He hadn't spoken a word since his father and brother entered the house; he just sat in his chair, looking increasingly bewildered at each word spoken by his parents. Kibito watched him cast frequent glances away from the table and back where his mother had headed. Goten shoveled food into his mouth, oblivious to the conflict around him. The clatter of forks and knives against plates filled Kibito's ears.
When Goten finished his meal, he happily chattered away about his day with Trunks and Vegeta. "… And Uncle Veggie took us to the zoo, and we saw a lion and a gorilla and an elephant. And then we went to the store, and he bought us a video game because he swore at a salesperson and Trunks said he'd tell his mom…"
"Speaking of Bulma, guess what she told me today, Gohan?" said Goku. "She's finished the first phase of some big project of hers—something she said we'd be really interested in. And she's throwing a huge party next week to celebrate!"
Kibito watched in silence as curiosity and anxiety battled for dominance on Gohan's face. Curiosity won out.
"What's the project?" said the demi-Saiyan.
His father laughed. "She wouldn't tell me! Some kind of top-secret invention. Whaddaya think it is?"
As Gohan was slowly drawn into a guessing game—slowly, but with increasing eagerness—Kibito tuned out. The sun was beginning to set now. Brilliant orange-red light flooded the room through a west-facing window. Kibito felt his mind drift away, out of the Son house, out of the lush green landscape of Mount Paozu, out of this planet, beyond even the black of space and the realm of the stars. He imagined Kaioshin under the purple sky of Kaioshin-Kai, peering into his crystal ball, passing through the scene that had unfolded before Kibito, along with a billion other scenes in the lives of mortals across the universe, in the blink of an eye—each argument, each bitter word slipping into the homogenizing anonymity of the multitude.