Two weeks later, he found himself exhausted. As promised, Videl hadn't given him any room for error. She had stalked Gohan, harassed the Gold Fighter, and had been breathing down both of their necks non-stop.

He now stood outside his school, the usual contents of his messenger bag replaced with his overnight essentials. Sure, he knew he'd be staying a week, but everything else he could need was already stored away in his bedroom in the family's section of the CC compound.

Now that Videl was back to staring him down, he wished that maybe he hadn't been so logical.

"And just where are your clothes, Gohan?" She asked, voice low and dangerously even. "Are you seriously going to wear one outfit for the entire week?"

"Oh, Gohan," Erasa jumped in. "Don't tell me you forgot to pack more!"

He allowed himself a sheepish smile as Erasa fawned over him, tugging her three-piece luggage set behind her. He certainly didn't correct her, and let her believe he had simply forgotten.

"He was probably too busy getting started on the stupid essay we have to write," Sharpener grumbled, referring to one of the conditions of their field trip. "I bet Nerd Boy here's already done."

As the students piled on to a bus, Vide yanked Gohan to one side, and he stumbled and fell into a seat near the front. She immediately sat next to him, blocking his way out.

"Alright, Gohan, I have some questions for you," she started, not bothering to conceal her intentions of sitting next to him.

"Uh, sure," he said, straightening in his seat to look at the girl next to him.

"Who's the Gold Fighter?" She demanded.

"What do you mean?" He said, alarm evident in his voice. "How would I know?"

"You have the same exact hair," she said simply. "Yours may not glow or be golden, but you both have hair that oddly stands up on end."

Gohan just looked at her, dumbfounded. He hadn't even considered the possibility of his Saiyan hair connecting him to Satan City's Gold Fighter.

Videl smirked at his silence. "You see," she said, sticking her hand in his dark hair without invitation. "Most of it stands straight up, and you clearly don't use any hair gel. I doubt the Gold Fighter does either. When my father fights with hair gel, it slides down his neck and forehead with sweat, making him all sticky and shiny. The Gold Fighter never has a trace of goop on him. Which leads me to believe this gravity-defying hair is a weird hereditary thing."

"Well, uh, you're not wrong," he said, at a loss for any other words. She was clearly observant- too observant- and he wasn't a good enough liar to try and convince her of anything otherwise. "I got the same hair as my dad."

"I know," she said, her eyes twinkling. "Because your dad is Son Goku, the previous WMAT champion."

"How-"

"I looked up your last name," she said, waving a hand in dismissal. "Son is a pretty uncommon surname, and I figured it couldn't be a coincidence that your first name also started with 'Go.' But anyway, Goku and the Gold Fighter have similar fighting styles. So, I'm going to ask you again, Gohan. Who. Is. The Gold Fighter? I'm certain he has something to do with your family."

During her monologue, she had pushed him further back into the bus window, her nose now nearly touching his. He felt sweat seeping through the underarms of his baggy, long-sleeve shirt as her fierce scowl drilled holes in him.

"Videl, I have no idea who he is!" He said, flailing in a most unconvincing manner. "Really! You're being ridiculous."

"You're a terrible liar, Gohan!" she snapped. The smaller crime fighter pointed a thin finger still him. "I knew you were hiding something from day one, and it's about time you fess up! I bet you're a fighter too, huh?"

She grinned as he struggled to deny her accusation, and she quickly pounced on this new information. "I knew it! After all, how could Son Goku not teach his kid any martial arts? Now tell me, do you have an older brother? Is he blonde?"

"Videl-"

The bus lurched to a stop. Videl was half-thrown into the aisle, and Gohan had tumbled into her lap, unable to properly brace himself with one arm. Her face burning, Videl hastily shoved the large boy off of her, and he fell to the floor with a loud bang and a yelp. The girl composed herself before stomping over his prone form to hurry off the bus, the other students quickly stampeding around her.

With a groan, the teenage half-Saiyan followed his classmates, trying to desperately forget the feel of Videl's thick thighs against the side of his face. "Her compression shorts are so tight," he thought with a sigh, discreetly shaking out a pant leg as he walked to the back of the crowd. While waiting on the front lawn of Capsule Corp, Erasa found him and ushered him over to the edge where Videl and Sharpener stood.

"I can't believe we're finally here!" she squealed, gesturing to the dome towering before her.

"Gohan!" A small voice yelled. The crowd quickly parted as Trunks Briefs mowed down several students on his way to his friend. Small arms wrapped around his long legs in a brief embrace. Conscious of their audience, Trunks detached himself rather quickly, and instead found himself looking at his shoes.

"You're not still mad at me, are you, Gohan?" He asked before looking up at the older boy. "I mean, I really didn't think it would work!"

"Trunks-"

"And it was totally Goten's idea," he fibbed.

"Was not!" A small voice added, running up to the pair. Goten was panting slightly as he pouted. "But I'm sorry too, Big Brother."

With that, Gohan just laughed and ruffled his brother's hair. "No, I'm not mad at either of you. It was two weeks ago! Of course I forgive you guys."

A throat cleared, and the students whirled from the confusing scene between the boys to the regal woman standing before them.

"Glad to have you back, Gohan," Bulma Briefs said. "And welcome, students of Orange Star High! I'm happy to have you all here."

Students stood mouths agape, flabbergasted to find out the class nerd knew the president of Capsule Corp on a first-name basis. Seemingly unaware of everyone's shock, Bulma hurried on through a brief overview of their housing arrangements.

"Alright, it's only 10 o' clock, so I'll have someone show you to your rooms and you can decompress before lunch," she spoke. "Any questions?"

Several hands went up, but Videl's voice rang out to ask what was on everyone's minds. "How do you know Gohan?"

Nearly twenty pairs of eyes turned back toward the young man in question, who had hiked the Briefs boy onto his shoulders while he held Goten in his arm. Though Trunks normally considered himself too mature for such childish activities, he had to admit that he rather liked looking down upon the human kids from Gohan's vantage point.

"Gohan is a family friend," Bulma's answered easily. "His father's actually one of my oldest friends."

"Wait, you're friends with Son Goku?" Videl asked, intrigued. She hadn't pegged Bulma Briefs to be interested in something so many girls wouldn't dirty their hands with. More jaws dropped as the group of teenagers recalled the name of the legendary martial artist who defeated the Demon King Piccolo.

Bulma briefly wondered if this was the girl Gohan had talked to her about. "She certainly seems interested in him," Bulma thought.

"If you'd ever met Goku," she said, "You'd be hard pressed to find yourself not becoming his friend."

Gohan smiled and knelt to the ground, setting his little brother down while letting Trunks know it was time for him to jump off.

"Oh, and I almost forgot to introduce you! That's Gohan's little brother, Goten. And this" Bulma continued, gesturing to her only child, "is my son, Trunks. His father, Vegeta, lives here as well, but I suggest you avoid him at all costs. He's about my height, muscular, and has black hair that's spiky like Gohan and Goten's. He's also always in a bad mood, and I don't want any of you getting hurt."

"Spiky hair, huh?" Videl whispered, leaning toward Gohan. He inwardly groaned as she eyed both him and Goten. There was no point in her mind that she had made the right connection- Goten looked exactly like Son Goku.

"I can't believe you didn't tell us!"

"I didn't think it was important," Gohan said, scratching the back of his neck. He stood awkwardly just inside of his personal room at Capsule Corp. Sharpener stood near him, still partially in the doorway. The small group had insisted on speaking in private before venturing to the top floor of guest rooms, where their nosy classmates could potentially eavesdrop.

"But seriously, Gohan!" Erasa complained, throwing herself back on to the king-sized bed. Videl stood off to the side of the bed, arms crossed. "I mean, I told you who Videl's dad was on your first day of school!"

"So you're supposed to just confess to total strangers every celebrity you know?" Gohan defended, hand dropping to his side. "Look, it's not a big deal to me and it shouldn't be a big deal to you guys either."

Sharpener took this extended conversation as an invitation to enter the boy's room, perching himself on the messy desk.

"You should get your dad to fight Videl's dad," Sharpener spoke up. "I mean, of course he'd lose, but it'd still be a pretty great fight. Why didn't he show up at the last tourney?"

"He's dead," Gohan replied, smile only slightly wavering. "He died shortly after my little brother was conceived."

Videl's face fell. She had clearly been wondering when she would meet Goku.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Gohan!" Erasa breathed. "And you're right… talking about Bulma is one thing, but mentioning a dead parent would've been a terrible ice breaker on your first day of school."

"It's okay," he said honestly. While he still felt some lingering blame for his father's death, he had learned to live with his mistake and the decision of his father. Goku's death would always hurt, but he knew his father wanted him to move on. So, that's exactly what he did.

"How did it happen?" Videl asked, her usual callous curiosity overriding her empathy.

"Really, Videl?" Sharpener said, actually surprised that the girl would ask something like that. "You should know better than to ask something like that."

The room was silent for a few moments before Gohan realized he'd never once heard anything about Videl's mother.

"Sorry," Videl finally mumbled. "That was too far."

"Like I said, it's okay," Gohan said, leaning against the blue wall. "I've had a lot of time to accept it."

"Hey, you wouldn't happen to be related to Vegeta, would you?" Videl asked, changing the topic. "Bulma said you had similar hair. He's not your dad's brother or something, is he?"

Gohan laughed. "No, we're not related! But they were both born in the same place, somewhere far away. Vegeta's actually the prince of their people," Gohan said, slightly stretching the truth. "So I think that's where the weird hair comes from, since everyone looked like us. And don't ask Vegeta about my father, either. They were kind of long-time rivals, so it's not like he would have anything nice to say, anyway."

"Look at you, masquerading as some snivelling dork," the man said. "Just as pathetic as your father, aren't you, brat?"

"Wow, Gohan sure wasn't kidding," Erasa mumbled to herself, aghast.

The Saiyan prince stood proudly in front of the gathered students, his short frame stacked with defined muscles.

"Hi, Vegeta," Gohan said happily, taking no offence. "Off to train?"

"Yes, unlike one half-breed I know."

"Half-breed?" Videl inquired. Despite his callous language, she couldn't help but wonder what half-breed Bulma's husband was referring to.

"Actually," Bulma intervened. "Care to help us out with a demonstration in the GR, Vegeta? I was just about to show them the basics of it."

"I do care, woman," he snapped. "Take them elsewhere."

"What if Gohan spars with you?" Bulma offered.

Several students blinked.

"What?" Sharpener asked. "How's nerd boy supposed to fight with one arm?"

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Sharpener," Gohan said dryly. "And thanks for volunteering me, Bulma."

She ignored his sarcasm, and instead slipped closer to her husband. She kept her voice down, knowing only he and Gohan would be able to hear her.

"Old-fashioned combat only," she whispered. "No flying, no energy blasts, no super. If you fight him, I'll go down on you tonight."

Videl raised an eyebrow as Gohan began to gag.

"Go change, brat," Vegeta snarled, suddenly willing to help his wife in the name of education.

Videl could've killed that boy.

She had been (reluctantly) battling crime alongside the Gold Fighter for around two weeks now. She knew what his physique looked like, what with the tight, spandex suit he always arrived in. But now it was just ludacris how closely Gohan resembled the Gold Fighter.

Another kick slid off his forearm as the boy defended himself against the more experienced fighter. The supposedly-friendly spar had heated up quite quickly. It was clear that Vegeta and Gohan had fought each other before, and it was even clearer that Gohan's abilities in martial arts were exemplary.

"I had no idea that's why he always wears baggy clothes," Erasa said, eyes shining in admiration. "I just assumed he was hiding a lack of muscles!"

Videl felt more confident that Gohan was indeed related to the Gold Fighter. The hair, the fighting style, the physique- and it all circled back to Goku. If she could get closer to Bulma Briefs throughout the duration of this trip, perhaps the older woman would let something spill about her old friend.

Either way, she was impressed with Gohan's knowledge of martial arts. He fought in a blue gi, and despite the red undershirt he wore, the neckline moved quite a bit as he fought, showing off his thick pectorals. If his brawny physique was anything to go by, she would guess he trained extensively, and had been for a long time.

"Alright boys, that's enough!" Bulma called through the intercom. The observation deck was somewhat crowded, but the countless monitors enabled everyone a superb view of the fight. And everyone seemed awed, to say the least.

"Who knew he could fight?"

"Look at that chest!"

"I wouldn't believe it if I hadn't seen it..."

The two men exited the gravity chamber. Vegeta pointedly reminded his wife of their deal before heading off to the kitchen.

Gohan faced his classmates, anxious after seeing the looks on their faces. Yet no one looked afraid, or disgusted, or revolted. They looked kind of impressed, actually. He felt a surge of pride in not only his Saiyan heritage, but in his father and Piccolo.

He could do this. He could be normal and make friends with these people. Okay, maybe they were a little shallow since everyone had avoided him when the teacher practically introduced as Mr. Perfect Test Scores, but maybe now they would be more willing to go to know the real him.

Videl, Sharpener, and several other athletes had taken the chance to test out the gravity machine when offered. Their eyes bulged when they felt the gravity kick up to three times Earth's typical force.

"How the hell did those two fight like this?" Sharpener seethed from his position on all fours.

"They probably get to practice in here all the time," Videl reasoned, in a similar position.

And then a thought struck her, nearly causing her to fall back down again.

What if Gohan was somehow the Gold Fighter?

Okay, so maybe he didn't have golden hair, but he certainly had the same type of hair. He knew martial arts very intimately, and his graceful yet powerful movements certainly reminded her of the Gold Fighter. He fit height-wise, and now she knew he had the same build as well. All this time she had assumed they were merely related!

She growled before turning off the shower. Wrapping herself in a fluffy towel, she re-entered the room she had been sharing with Erasa. The blonde had already fallen asleep, and her heavy snores disrupted Videl's thoughts.

The Satan girl had just pulled on a clean pair of underwear when an idea suddenly formed.

Unwillingly, her thoughts drifted back to a conversation she had with Erasa during lunch one day. Videl's best friend had been rambling on about the Gold Fighter's looks, and had brought up the fact that his form-fitting costume left little to the imagination.

"If I can match more of his body to Gohan's, then I'll have concrete proof that they're the same person," she softly concluded.

Eyes wide in realization, she flushed.