EDITED - 05/01/2014
…
Nothing to say, just enjoy! xD
For the first time since he'd left home, Gohan was second guessing his decision.
He tried not to think of it for the last few days, but now, as he sat on the long heavy bench just below the raised bleachers, his mind couldn't hide from it any longer. He stared at the infinite greenness of the gridiron in from of him, nibbling on his bottom lip in thought. He'd came here for Bulma, to be his own man. "The one you were meant to be." There was still a long journey ahead in order to figure out who that man was, but if there was one thing he was sure of, was that he wouldn't be that man. One who'd put his family on the back burner.
Being in college was doing him some good, he admitted. Never in his wildest dreams - if he ever even had those - was he sitting on the football team's bench by the field, waiting for the coach to arrive and tryout for the Tigers. "Expand your horizons," Bulma sung in his head. He was learning things about himself that he'd never realized before. Like how he prefered to study outside a little bit better than indoors, or how a small power-nap of about twenty minutes would do wonders in re-energizing his tired mind and body after one of his recurrent sleepless nights. College was doing him good, but...
This couldn't happen. He was not going to put himself first if that meant his family would suffer any one bit more than they had to. A solution was needed, and so he reverted to his trusty thinking mode.
Mia and Goten were doing great in school, but it'd change when they got home, according to his sister, as she'd fessed up when he'd tucked her in for the night last Saturday. Gohan had been feeling comfortably assured that everything was okay because everything seemed okay, but apparently that would only happen when he was back home.
During the week, however, Goten wasn't his usual talkative self most of the time, and he'd eat little less too, which scared the shit out of Gohan; eating less was not okay for a young male Saiyan. He knew Mia wasn't the same food incinerator as the rest of the male Sons but Goten? No, that was definitely not okay.
Gohan had pried it out of his little brother the next day, and he'd shyly explained that he simply missed talking to him about his day, but that he was going to be alright. The older Saiyan couldn't help but feel proud at the display of maturity his Buddy tried to convey, reassuring him of his well-being despite not really feeling it, but his bloated parent instincts kicked in, and he'd just have to do something about it. What... he wasn't sure.
Without a doubt, he'd have to spend more time with his little kids so they wouldn't suffer from the separation so much, but to add insult to injury, one of his teachers had offered him the opportunity to gain some extra-credits by doing some maintenance lab work during the weekend. Which was awesome, but would also mean going home only one weekend per month. That won't happen, his inner-parent immediately shot back, but fortunately he prided himself on his analytical mind and his sensei's tactical genius, and, of course, his Saiyan side - even if toned down by the silver cuff around his wrist - wouldn't allow him to go down without a fight.
Somehow, someway, he'd have to find a solution, and so... he strategized.
The extra-credits meant he could finish college earlier altogether, so it was still on the table. The kid's school wasn't all that far away, so maybe he could meet them there for-
Fweeeet!
The sound of an unbelievably loud whistle tingled within his head like he'd actually been physically struck by it, smacking him right off his train of thought, crashing through the train's window and into a nearby, now crumbled imaginary mountain.
He forcefully got himself up with the rest of the Tigers wannabes and walked over to the three figures in the middle of the field. Two taller men - one youngish and blond with glasses, and another one clearly older with gray hair and a pointy beard - stood behind a third man who held a brown clipboard. This man demanded respect by his posture alone, and that was not at all subdued by his small, condensed stature. It kind of reminded him of someone.
The coach - as it read in gold letters on his black sweatshirt - was a small, robust man with light-brown hair and a thick, impeccably trimmed moustache. He wore a black cap with a golden tiger embroidered on its left side, which made Gohan wonder where he could get one of those for the kids. Or maybe just for the boys, since Mia was very nitpicky with her hair and the way her go-to ponytail should be tied up behind her head. Bulma's girly mannerisms had surely rubbed off on her, growing up.
The guy started to speak, his tone commanding. "My name is Leon Dais, but you will address me as 'Coach'. These are Gil Pypus," he said pointing at the younger man, and then at the older one, "and Len Sadyr. For you they are 'Coach Gil' and 'Coach Len'. Got it?"
There were agreement nods and a few "Yes, sir", before the coach continued. "Who can tell me about the spartans?"
The question took most of them by surprise, but one unbothered voice was heard somewhere in the back. "It's a movie."
Coach Leon exhaled forcefully, clearly used to that particular answer. "It's not a movie. The movie was based on them. Anyone else?"
Gohan raised his hand, and Coach promptly pointed at him.
"The spartans were a greek society based on militaristic principles that was once the most feared army forces in world history." Once. His mind digressed again, considering if there were any kind of Earth Special Forces that much back in time. Probably not, but then again, if there were, they wouldn't be in any history books, that's for sure. Maybe Piccolo - meaning Kami - would know.
"Very good. Finally, a jock with a brain," the man mumbled. "The goal of spartan education was that of self-discipline as opposed to mindless obedience. Every single spartan man and woman, be it a citizen, an immigrant, a merchant, or a servant, were subject to one single ethical system composed of the simple but fundamental values of liberty, equality, and fraternity."
"Hey, man. Are we here for a history lesson or to play some football?" some overly-muscled guy spoke, obviously expecting a similar reaction from all those around him, though only two of his friends supported him with a, "Yeah!"
"You three can go," the coach dead-panned.
"W-What? Why?"
"I don't have a place for mindless, disrespectful idiots on my team. Go! Anyone else who feels the same way can follow suit." It took the guys some time to follow the order, but when the clearly dumbfounded trio started to walk away, the coach continued. "Each spartan soldier followed a strict no-nonsense code of honor in which no one man was superior to another, and any kind of recklessness or enragement was not allowed under penalty of dishonor and shunning." He paused, lowering his tone. "This team is my army. I am its king and the players are my spartans. This is how it is and I won't tolerate anything less. Is that understood?"
An unison, "Yes, sir!" was heard throughout the field.
"Now, most football teams play using a two-platoon system," he continued. "Does anybody know what that means?"
A stubby guy with a ponytail raised his hand. Coach silently pointed at him. "I know it only as 'platoon system', but I think that it's when there are two separate offensive and defensive units."
"That's correct," the coach said. "My army won't employ that system but a one-platoon system, also known as 'iron-man football'. That means that my spartans will be playing in more than one position in both the offense and the defense if I so see fit. You may address me regarding your preferences and I will take it into consideration, however, that is not a decisive factor in my choices, and it will not be your role in the team if I don't think you're the right man for the job. On the other hand, if you are selected, I will assign your position or positions later today, but if the need arises, I can and will change your assigned positions whenever and however I deem fit. I already have some players on my team, and I will either need you to fill a void or want you if you impress me with your abilities, but you are never 'safe'. If you work hard you will stay. If you slack you will go. That's the bottom line." He paused again to let the information sink in before continuing.
"If you came here thinking you would be playing half of the game and rest for the other half, leave now. If you came here to tryout for one single specialized position and won't do any other, leave now. If you don't trust mine and my general's decisions regarding your assigned positions, leave now. You are free to leave at any point today if you change your mind or if the physical tryouts prove to be too much for you. If you can't make it through today, you won't make it during a match, and you most certainly won't make it during practice. Is that understood?"
"Yes, sir."
"Let's begin."
The tryouts were, in one word... frustrating, but surprisingly not for the expected reasons.
Every time Gohan - or any other Saiyan, he assumed - tried to participate in any kind of sport with humans in the past, or a game, or overall physical activity, he couldn't help but being... too much. Too strong or too fast or both. The baseball matches Yamcha had tried to initiate back in the day, would always end earlier than intended because they'd either run out of bats - but oddly enough were more than stocked up on useless bits of wood - or run out of balls, for the simple fact that they couldn't find them in the middle of the ocean, or stuck on a mountain, or somewhere on the other side of the world. But on the odd case they'd make it for more than half an hour or so, the game itself was so Saiyan versus Saiyan that the fun wasn't really there or otherwise worth the trouble.
This time, however, it was different.
As with everyone else, he supposed, it had always been a simple, spontaneous process. His trained mind would command his trained body in what was a well-oiled fine-tuned machine, eighteen years in the making. But now... it's like they were having trouble connecting to each other. His mind demanded an action and expected a reaction that'd never come, being replaced by a slurred, spent, fractionated version of it instead. It rubbed on infuriating until Gohan just managed to calm down and rationalize it, as he did with everything else he couldn't easily surpass.
The cuff was simply doing its job; he just had to adjust to it. Just like back then, before the Games, when he'd had to live his everyday life as a Super-Saiyan. He'd broken glasses and plates, bent doorknobs, and even cracked a few toothbrushes before he could manage to adjust his mind's perception of what should be normal, given his new condition. Nowadays, he was capable of switching from one to another and still be his normal self, either as a Super-Saiyan or in his base form, almost like tuning in a radio station.
It was only a matter of finding this new station's frequency.
It'd taken him a while, but as time went by and the more different types of activities were instructed to take place, he'd gotten the hang of it, and as Coach delivered the final whistle, he was more or less in control of his still-not-quite-Saiyanless human-like body.
And now, unbelievingly, he was feeling kind of pumped up. A little like when he'd trained in the GR at his own level, the other day, and he was actually sweating a bit. Well, not nearly as much as the rubble of young college students around him, who were trying fruitlessly to get up to their feet, but still. A little smile crept onto his face uninvited. This is awesome.
Gohan lifted his hand to the sky when the coach mentioned his name, and moved a few steps to the side. He'd apparently made the team, though his mind had already drifted to some sort of mathematical comparison of the equivalent gravity multiplier that the Ki suppressor was inducing on his body. He'd went up to five hundred in the GR, which meant five hundred times more than the atmospheric multiplier here. Assuming that both locations were at the same height above sea level, then it was safe to assume that...
Within his ramblings, he zoned out for a moment until Coach Leon's voice went louder and more noticeable. "For the rest of you," he said, "thank you for coming but you didn't make the team." Defeated moans and soft slapping sounds of backs being patted in comfort were heard throughout, as Coach continued to the small group of newly assigned Tigers.
"I will now recall your names and assign your positions. As I do, you are free to leave, and you will return every Tuesday and Thursday at five p.m. sharp for a two and a half hour practice. I don't tolerate being late. Got it? Good," he asked and readily responded, proceeding to call up names and addressing the corresponding young men personally. They'd gathered farther away from the main group to converse more privately with each of the guys, but Gohan could still hear them clearly - Saiyans did have sharper hearing abilities than humans - though he assumed he was the only one, since the others in the lot looked around for something a little more interesting than a distant group of four producing undetermined sounds.
As the list of names went on, he found himself standing alone on the emptied-out field until his turn finally came up. "And last but not least, Gohan Son," Coach Leon called, and his name brought motion to his body as he approached the three men. "What am I going to do with you?"
"Sir?"
The coach sighed, eyeing the scribbled notes on his precious brown board while rubbing his forehead. "Your speed is incredible, your throw impeccable, not to mention your jumps. Your strength and endurance would make you a lineman but those are too easy to find." He paused before lifting his green eyes to Gohan. "Do you have a preference?"
"No, Sir. Whatever you need me to do." Obviously that didn't help with the man's dilemma, but might as well be honest, he guessed.
Coach studied his scribbles again, adding to them with his chewed-up black pen, and mumbling to himself, mostly. "You are an impressive young man." Looking up again, he studied Gohan's features before continuing. "I will start you off as a wide receiver and we'll take it from there. Later on I'll see if I want you anywhere else."
"Understood," Gohan told the man. "Thank you, Sir." He extended his hand. The coach was not expecting it and took a second but eventually shook it and he walked away from the field. "See you next Tuesday."
This football thing was turning out to be much cooler than he thought. With the Ki suppressor around his wrist, he could actually manage to exert himself hard enough to tire his brain just as much as his body, and that was… just priceless. Hopefully their practice sessions would be just as straining if not more than the tryouts today.
He'd have to remember to thank Bulma come next Saturday. The football bug had indeed bitten.
Bulma sat on one of the long wooden benches that served the kitchen table at the Son's home, the aromas unsurprisingly tickling her senses and watering her mouth as they always would.
Last night had been hard on her, weighing her tired eyelids this morning into blinking a lot more often than usual. She'd spent hours looking at his picture - the only one she had of him - and the tears had walked in unannounced, slaughtering her heart for hours, and forcefully occupying her tired eyes as they would ever so often, whenever those stubborn thoughts returned from the back of her head where she kept pushing them to.
She didn't know why her parents had never had more kids, but it'd never bothered her pampered young self before; possessions and liberal curfews had always been instantaneous in filling in that void. Now, however, after so many hours of useless contemplation on the matter, she became acutely aware of how that'd always been her dream: a big family, lots of kids. It was something she couldn't - or rather refused to - do by herself, though, so it became completely out-of-reach after Cell and his wretched Games.
An unattainable wish beyond the power of any Eternal Dragon, since neither Shenron nor Porunga could give life to a man who wanted to stay dead.
As he'd done countless times before in the dark recesses of his tortuous past, the Prince of all Saiyans had conquered yet another celestial body, readying it for its next owner. Her heart instead of a life-ridden planet somewhere in the universe, Vegeta himself instead of some powerful space tyrant or shady alien entrepreneur, and the scenario was just the same, so how could she fare better than the long list of barren wastelands he'd purged clean over the years? There was nothing left in her chest for anyone else but the one who'd first seized it; her mate even in death.
Many a suitor had tried their luck over the years, but she knew deep down there would never be room for anyone else, and so the dream of having a little girl somewhere along the line had forever been lost when he had.
As his mother, Trunks would be all by himself, and the realization had been enough for sleep to have come by exhaustion alone.
But now, as the night's darkness gave place to a brand new day, she saw it, as she would every Saturday for what had now been years. Trunks was not alone. She was not alone. Her surrogate sister had cooked an amazing pasta dish that she'd been craving for months. Trunks' little step-brother and sister were getting him up to speed with some gossip he'd somehow missed back at school. And then there was Gohan, the father Trunks would never have, as well as his brother and teacher. Her older son that filled up her wishes for the future, begging dearly to a higher power that Trunks would somehow grow up to take after him, since Vegeta wasn't around to teach him about the world himself.
Her big family was right here, maybe not how she'd envisioned them, but then again, her Prince wasn't exactly charming either. She chuckled to herself at the thought.
The tireless trio had just ran to the living room to take care of their mandatory one-hour-per-day weekend study session before they were allowed to go "play" in the woods. Gohan and Chi-Chi were up clearing the table of its wreckage normal human beings would recognize as dinnerware, and she kept put, knowing all too well how hopelessly unhelpful she was in this particular kitchen. She managed more or less admirably around her kitchen, in her own puny little way, but Mrs. Son had always been in a league all of her own, and doing the dishes was one thing she knew the woman preferred to do by herself.
Gohan knew it too and took charge of preparing the after-lunch coffee he had begun to incorporate into their Saturday family ritual, much to the older woman's delight, of course. He grabbed the coffee pot from the stove, pouring the dark liquid into the three elegant white cups left on the table. "Hey, Mom?" he said as he finished his task. "Can you sit down? I wanted to discuss something with you guys for a minute."
Discuss something? Well, that would account for the way Gohan had kept so quiet throughout the whole meal, then. Of course it'd been a really long time since his regular talkative self had been dead and buried somewhere within him, but this time she could count the words he'd spoken by the fingers of one hand alone. That was too low of a number, even for him.
His mother looked back at him with an uneasy expression but complied to his request, and slowly sat down across from Bulma as Gohan took his place between them at the head of the table. "Is something wrong?" Chi-Chi asked nervously.
Gohan took his mother's hand in his own. This woman had heard her fair share of bad news over the years, and it'd understandably conferred a painful aura to the whole concept. "News" equaled "change" which equaled "bad" in her book. "No, Mom," he said, "everything's okay. Something just came up at school that might change things a bit, and I wanted to discuss it with you guys regarding the solution I came up with."
How many times had he ran that speech in his head before sharing it, she wondered? Because, no doubt, every single word had been chosen and tailored specifically for the single purpose of appeasing to his mother's anxiety, a normal state of mind that would come exclusively due to that one little word: "Change". The whole conversation could go downhill in a heartbeat, and the young man beside her knew that better than anyone else, so she did her part and took his free hand to offer her support. Gohan had always been so extremely trustworthy and responsible; whatever it was he wanted to address, he'd have her support.
He looked back at her, smiling a bit and nodding in understanding of her unspoken intentions. "So... here's the deal," he began. "One of my teachers offered me the opportunity to do some lab work for extra-credit."
"Oh, wow, that's awesome!" Bulma beamed immediately. "That means you can finish college even earlier than expected." His sentence needed no elucidation, but explaining the facts anyway could only help to register things in Chi-Chi's head, she reckoned.
Gohan silently thanked her with a small nod and agreed. "Yes, and that's the reason I decided to accept it even though I haven't told my teacher yet."
Chi-Chi was definitely proud of her son, and her soft smile was letting it show. That was obviously the easy part of his issue; what was the hard one? "The problem," he explained with slow, measured words, "is that it would mean I would only get to come home one weekend per month."
His mother's features hardened instantly at the new information, as anticipated, and Gohan rushed in the rest of his speech before she had a chance to dwell on it. "But, as I said, I think I came up with a solution. I don't want to just see you guys one weekend per month, and I definitely want to be more available for the kids, even more than I've been since I moved to campus, so... here's my proposal."
The two women focused on the young Saiyan. He had clearly thought this thoroughly, so it should be the best, simplest way to solve all of the problems that came with this new life of his. Being away was changing everyone, not only himself. His change was for the better, and if she knew him properly, he would do anything for it to be just the same for everybody else around him. Hopefully Chi would see it that way as well.
"I'll have football practice Tuesdays and Thursdays in the afternoon," he said, "so on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, I'll go get the kids from school and spend an hour or so with them so they wouldn't miss me so much. They could get the next bus home and be here by six o'clock, tops."
Chi seemed to be considering it. They all knew the little ones missed their brother very much, and of course she'd want them to spend more time together. They'd make an effort so this plan wouldn't interfere with their study time, if that would be an issue for Chi-Chi; it would at least cross her mind, Bulma was sure.
Gohan continued. "But as I said, I didn't want to miss out on the Saturday lunches either, so... Mom, I know you don't really like changes, but I was thinking, since Bulma's house is only a few minutes away from campus, we could have them there when I have to work, and here when I don't. That way I would see you guys anyway, even if it's just for a couple of hours."
Chi-Chi looked to her coffee in thought. Her expression was a bit unreadable but at least she wasn't denying it, Bulma concluded. The implications of Gohan's plan ran wild in her head, the inumerous possible paths getting analysed with lightning speed so she'd have some arguments cocked and ready to shoot for whichever problem the younger woman might bring up.
Chi didn't have a license to drive their old car over to the city, but that wasn't an issue since she'd have the Nimbus, and Bulma knew for a fact that she was still pure of heart enough to use the thing since she did so just the other day to go visit her father. The cloud was little but both her, Mia, and Goten would fit perfectly fine in it, and surely make the trip in much less time than if by earth-bound vehicle.
Also, she wouldn't want to see her boy just once every month either, even more so considering how psychologically dependant she still was of him to this day, a trait that could be traced all the way back to when he was just a child but that was raging as ever, nowadays.
"You know what? That's fine, Gohan," Chi-Chi ended up saying without an issue. It surprised her for a moment but a big grin started to grow on her face immediately after.
"Really, Mom?" Gohan asked.
"Yes. I know you're trying your best."
He sighed through a relieved smile and leaned in for a tight hug. "Thank you," he whispered against her shoulder. Chi smiled too, rubbing his back.
Bulma, trying her best not to shed a tear - she was such a sucker for these heartfelt family moments - brushed a hand against Gohan's shoulder blade in support. This kind of thing would never have happened a few weeks ago, which reassured her in her actions of inducing this change. A man in the making, that's who he was. Too many years overdue but better late than never, she'd always say.
Mother and son released their grips when Chi-Chi said, "There's one other thing I want to add, though."
Gohan and Bulma were shocked at that, eyes widened and a quick glance over to each other. A change? Coming from this woman? Wow… It was like every day brought a new surprise now, ever since Gohan went to college.
"I want to go visit Papa more often," she told them. "Mia and Goten can still go and have lunch with you two and Trunks, but maybe one weekend per month I'll go and spend the day with him. He's not getting any younger..."
"That's a great idea, Mom," Gohan said. "Why don't you ask him to join us on the weekends I come here? We only ever see him during the holidays."
"Oh, you know he doesn't like to travel a lot. But that's okay. It was just me and him for so long, it'll be good to spend some time together like that again."
"Mia and Goten can spend the night over at my place," Bulma added to the conversation. "That way it won't be too tiring for you, coming and going in the same day."
"That'd be good, but..." Chi began to say, but Bulma knew exactly what she was aiming for and interrupted immediately.
"I'll make sure they do their homework thoroughly and that they go to bed at proper hours." Sleepovers once a month? The kids would freak out in a sugarless sugar-rush just at the thought of it.
Chi-Chi's answer came in the form of a smile, so Bulma was quick to conclude the issue before anything else would surface, cheering with an extra dose of energy, "That's settled, then!" She stroked Gohan's arm. "Don't worry, Honey. We'll make it work."
Gohan responded with a relaxed nod. For her family, she'd move mountains and seas, and if it was the last thing she'd do, Gohan - the real one - would be coming back from the dead, whichever the cost.
She owed it to Goku.
Gohan stared outside into the dark street below, sitting on the wide window ledge with glazed interest. He wasn't really sure of what constituted a "kick-ass party", but he guessed the "Third Floor's Funny-Shirt Kegger" wasn't all that bad, even though it'd been dying down ever since the beer had ended a few minutes ago. The music was good, and everybody seemed to have had a good time. He'd even managed to snicker a couple of times over some of the garments.
"Come to the dark side. We have cookies." Sweet.
It'd been such a success, that he would've even given it a try at mingling a bit if it wasn't for the absolutely crippling numbness his sore muscles were in. His body hadn't felt like this since the Hyperbolic Time Chamber, ages ago, and even then he'd had to reach the peak of physical exhaustion to accomplish it.
If he could, he would force out a smile; it'd been a good week.
He was making all sorts of new discoveries about his new and un-improved body, almost on a daily basis, and the intense football practices were a great deal involved. But the one revelation he was most impressed by was throbbing on the tip of his left ring finger; he couldn't really believe it had happened. Being around books his entire life, his fingertips probably knew the feeling of paper better than the feeling of his own skin, and yet this was a first. It hurt like hell, and the mere recollection was enough to make him flinch and feel it all over again.
A damn paper cut.
How stupid was it to be the first person in history to be happy about a paper cut? Physical injuries of any kind were basically a side-effect of living in his shoes, and he'd been hurt before many times, even outside of battle situations, but it would normally take being thrown into a mountain or something of the nature. Being hurt by a sheet of paper? He couldn't really believe his eyes. His improved immune system was still much faster than average at treating the wound, since it was already closing up on its own after only a few hours, but in all its stupidity - and he most definitely felt stupid about it - it made him feel... vulnerable. A mere mortal just like the rest.
That smile came out, after all.
The rec room's door opened slowly, creaking and catching his attention before bringing on two familiar faces. Erasa waved at him and walked right over to the gray sofa where Sharpner was sitting, wearing his green "Dyslexics are teople poo" t-shirt. She had a white sleeveless top herself, stating with big, curly letters, "Unicorns are simply horny ponies", which was… Well, it spoke for itself. Videl was coming his way.
"'Goodbye Kitty'," he read from her black t-shirt, printed with the white outline of Hello Kitty's face and a red bow. Its eyes had been substituted by two crosses, and it appeared it'd been shot in the head, as proven by a blood-red entrance wound. "Nice."
"I couldn't think of anything funnier than this." She grinned. "Lemme see yours."
Gohan opened his unbuttoned black dress shirt to reveal a reddish cotton tee with white letters. Videl read it out loud. "Thermodynamics gets me hot." It made her laugh. "That's funny and smart. Good job."
"Thanks."
Videl looked around. "So... I guess we're a little late, huh?" There were about a dozen people left in the room, most deep in conversation and a couple of guys watching TV through visibly sleepy eyes.
"Yeah. A little."
She shrugged. "Oh, well." Her eyes went directly to the red plastic cup in his hands then. "So, what number is that one?"
Number? He stared at her for a while, not really able to connect the pieces; his tired body paired up with his slightly tipsy brain were starting to take its toll on him, he concluded. After a moment, the red cup's meager remnants shed light on the matter. "Oh, the beer. Umm... this is number four."
"Oh, yay!" Videl beamed, single clapping her hands. "That means that the next one will be the good one, at last."
His eyes narrowed. "I still don't know if I believe that."
Videl brought a hand to her chest, her eyes way too innocent for his taste and an inconspicuous tug at the corner of her lip. "Would I lie to you?"
Gohan's lips pressed together. He didn't even attempt a response.
"Can I have the honor of getting you your first real beer?" Videl jokingly yet solemnly asked, grabbing his cup.
"You could, but we're out."
A moment of surprise preceded what was now a wry, disappointed expression. She turned back to the group on the couch. "Hey, Sharp! What the hell?"
Sharpner's palms tilted up, as did his eyebrows. "What?"
"How can you be out of beer already?"
"Hey, you're the ones who were late!"
Erasa stepped in. "Oh, I know! We have beer in our room!"
Sharpner grinned immediately. "Awesome! Let's go."
The two blonds wasted no time in getting up, and started going for the door. Videl wrapped herself around Gohan's arm and pulled him over to come too, but it only made his every muscle ache furiously once again. He considered letting himself fall to the floor and just lay there on the filthy linoleum, but she unfortunately wouldn't let him, tugging him along insistently and saying, "Come on!"
After a few steps towards their destination, Gohan thanked Dende for elevators - being sure he'd had absolutely nothing to do with their creation - when the group arrived at the sixth floor. Erasa and Videl's room was the last one on the right - number sixty-six - and it was an exact replica of his and Sharpner's though somehow much more girly, as one would expect. Videl sat on her bed right in front of the door while Erasa went for their mini-fridge, distributing beers all around before joining Sharpner, who'd made himself lazily comfortable on her bed. Gohan's body slowly crouched on the chair at what he assumed was Videl's desk, and let himself drop onto the seat.
"Coach Leon is living up to his reputation, huh?" Videl asked with an amused smile.
The young Saiyan exhaled through a soft smile of his own, rubbing his face. "It's been a long time since I've been this sore." Wasn't that the truth? Seven whole years.
The whole group chuckled just before Videl stared intently his way, anticipation written all over her expression. "So... drink up."
Gohan took a deep breath and drank from the tan bottle. "It's still pretty much terrible."
"I never said it would taste good, I said you would appreciate it better."
He blinked at her once or twice and looked down at his beer. "Well... I don't find it as unbearably bitter as I did the first time."
"Well, there you go." An amused eyebrow tilted her way. There you go? That's it? "See? I told you! Number five's the charm!" the young woman cheered. He shook his head and rolled his eyes through the laughs that enfolded.
"Anyway," Sharpner said then, "why were you girls so late? You missed all the action."
"We were having dinner with Erasa's parents. Went on a little longer than expected," Videl responded, taking a sip from her bottle.
Sharp looked down at Erasa as she began to explain. "They have a small apartment near here that's going to vacate. We've decided to move there."
"You're moving?"
"Yeah. In a month or so."
Videl exhaled loudly. "I know it's very near here, but we have so much crap! I'm kind of freaking out a bit."
"We can help you move," Gohan stated without a second thought. Even if the girls hadn't become his friends as the days went by, it wouldn't feel right not to offer his help in this situation. Moving out surely meant hefty boxes, and maybe it was old-fashioned of him, but it was a man's job to haul around the heavy weights, not the two girls alone.
Videl smiled back at him. "Really? You'd do that?"
"Of course."
"Hey, speak for yourself," Sharpner injected with a crooked smile. "I'm sure I'll be busy that day." Erasa smacked him on the chest.
"Shut up, you idiot," Gohan found himself saying. "She 'takes care' of you in the bathroom of a filthy bar. The least you can do is help her move." Goodness… He was tipsy, wasn't he? Did that come from him?
"Oh, snap!" Videl snapped her fingers through Erasa's giggles. Sharpner gave him something close to a death-glare but ultimately decided to give in. Damn straight! The guy knew he was right.
"Thank you, boys," Videl said, winking his way, but it was nothing, really.
"Yes. Thank you," Erasa said too, but hers came out in a soft half-whisper before pecking Sharpner's jaw very, very slowly. He smirked and shifted his weight to be able to reach down to her lips, pressing a kiss against them a little too passionately.
"You guys! Really? We're right here!" Videl uselessly pleaded for both of them. He was all for letting people do what they wanted and everything, but he'd rather not be around to watch them make out with each other. That'd just be too awkward.
"Maybe you two could go for a walk or something," Erasa suggested, not removing her eyes from Sharpner, who in turn grinned at the implication.
Videl exhaled loudly again, this time in annoyance. She got up and signaled Gohan to follow suit, which he gladly complied. "At least send me a text when you're done," she told her roommate.
Erasa did something with her hand that resembled an affirmative response, and so the two third-wheels left, closing the door behind them. Videl smiled at Gohan. "Come on." They walked over to the elevator and he was surprised to see her push the button labeled "eight". Exiting two floors up, she opened the door a couple of steps to their right, which would be the stairs to the roof. Gohan grimaced a little, anticipating the pain that was to follow. There weren't that many steps, but his brain perceived it as being at least a million, given his aching muscles.
The rooftop was simply a wide open area of tiled floor and drainage grids, exceptions being the door to the stairs and a rather tall cube-like room that Gohan assumed was where the elevator's hoist mechanism was housed. Videl went over to that very same structure and got up to the ledge, alarming him for a second, concerned for her safety, but she moved calmly and uncaringly, strolling towards the shaft structure and elevating herself to its top.
Gohan took a deep breath, trying to calm his worries, and slowly followed her, concentrating mainly on not falling himself to what would be about nine stories down. He considered if it would kill him, the fall, recalling the paper cut incident. It wouldn't even be an issue with the cuff off his wrist, but if a mere sheet of paper could pierce his skin, he reckoned his chances were grim if he were to dive face first against the Earth itself. Earlier experiments with the Ki suppressor's capabilities had let him know that some sort of levitation was still possible, but he couldn't actually fly with the cuff on. No worries, though, he'd probably have enough time to take it off and fly away before hitting the ground.
Once beside Videl, and putting his unfinished beer to the side, he let himself drop to his back, trying to ease the soreness. The sky was cloudless, and the scarcely lit area below them made the stars that much easier to see. That view and the way the cool air felt amazing against his skin, made him produce another deep breath. Despite the raging inferno that were his every muscle, this night had turned out to be very relaxing and enjoyable.
Videl had decided to remain seated up, and he looked at her now, leaning back onto her stretched left arm in such a way that brought out the unmistakable line of a defined tricep muscle on an otherwise deceivingly thin member. She was staring aimlessly up, slowly consuming her beer. He decided to sit up as well and join her. "So, how's your Economics going?"
She giggled. "A little better. I hate it but it's a good minor to complement my major. I'm gonna be a lawyer."
Gohan was surprised by the new information. "Oh, really? Cool. I heard that it's a lot of hard work."
"Yeah, I guess it is. But as an over-achiever basket-case, I think I'll manage just fine," she said with a sweet smile, taking a sip.
The young Saiyan chuckled. "An over-achiever basket-case, huh?"
"Oh, yeah. Exhibit A: Do you know anyone else who graduated one year early from high school by their own accord?"
"I can honestly say that I don't." But he wasn't a good example in that regard, considering how few high-school graduates he actually knew. And of all the people in his life, close and distant, only Bulma would have the brains and willpower to have accomplished the same feat, he reckoned. Truth be told, the two of them had never actually talked about it before, but he had a feeling she hadn't skipped a year of the curriculum; he'd probably know if she had.
"Well, there you go," Videl concluded with a grin that fired up his own.
There was silence then, but it was the comfortable kind, so he simply ran with the ambience and watched the stars above them, drawing up the constellations in his head. It'd been so long since he'd actually done that, but in the end, it didn't have the same appeal without Dad around. He'd always seemed so interested in hearing about them, in studying their configurations, in learning their names and the mythology behind them. Both father and son would just lay down on the grass, pointing up while tracing imaginary lines with their fingers, and Gohan would teach him everything he'd learn from his astronomy books until sleepiness took over.
It just wasn't the same without him.
"Do you think there's life on other planets?" Videl broke the silence, not lowering her gaze.
"Yes," Gohan quickly responded.
"You seem pretty sure."
Simply because he knew it was a fact, not just a hunch or a theory, but he should've been more careful, either way. The matter wasn't as point-blank for "regular" people, so he should refrain from coming across as too sure.
"Why?" she continued to ask.
He shrugged a shoulder, deciding to go with, "Why not?" It was the truth, anyway. With so many visible stars in their galaxy alone, one could only be so egocentric into thinking other places didn't have the physical means to produce and sustain life, intelligent or otherwise.
She smiled, pointing the neck of her bottle his way. "Okay, game on," she said. "How about life after death?"
"Yes." Goddammit, stop answering so fast.
"Really? How come?"
This time he took a moment. He had never been to Other World, but his father and Vegeta were there, staying with King Kai - not on his planet, though, since he assumed it'd been pulverized after Cell had self-destructed there. Would a Kai have the power to produce another planet for them live on, he wondered? Probably not.
But not only that, Dad had told him all about his first death experience back when the whole Raditz thing had happened. King Yemma and the check-in station, Snake Way and all the stuff he'd had to go through to get to King Kai's - falling down to Hell seemed a whole lot safer than meeting that Princess Snake person; she seemed nasty.
He didn't really know how it was like if they didn't let a person keep their body, though, which would be the standard procedure for the majority of living beings. Would that count as "life after death", since they'd just be a soul? Well, either way, Dad and Vegeta alone would substantiate the claim, but much more than that, the fact that he had a loose idea of where they were was a huge relief. "It gives me comfort," he told her. If they'd simply disappeared from existence… He didn't even want to consider that thought.
Videl nodded. "I get it." She paused for a moment. "How about ghosts?"
"What do you define as ghosts?"
"Umm, spirits from the other world who roam around this one."
Tough question. Dad had told him how Baba had managed to bring Grandpa Gohan back to this dimension once, though only for a day. But he wasn't a spirit, since he'd also been allowed to keep his body in the afterlife, so… that didn't make him a ghost per se. "Maybe. Never saw one, though."
"That'd be so awesome…" she said. "Okay, what else…?"
"Hey, stop hogging all the questions."
It made her chuckle. "Okay, then. Shoot."
Nice going, brain, you drunk piece of shit. What in the world could he ask her about? Gohan considered his topic for a moment before deciding to go with, "Time travelling."
"Oh, for sure."
He smiled, knowing fully well his own opinion on the matter. "Why?"
"There are pretty smart people out there. They just need time to sort it out."
Ain't that the truth? The time and the incentive, of course, like the need to save a world - any world, even if one twenty years in the past. "Fair enough," he told her.
"My turn," she said eagerly. "Huh… Soul mates?"
Soul mates, soul mates… Well, the concept was perhaps a little blurry within his particularly logical self, but nevertheless, in the back of his mind, he knew the answer. "Yes."
Videl was slightly surprised, her eyebrows tilting up over a delicate smile. "Why?"
"Umm... Personal experience of sorts."
"Yours?"
He shook his head negatively. "My... parents." Nobody could convince him otherwise. He'd heard so much shit throughout the years, people branding their relationship as one-sided or emasculating. Forced upon him, unfair for her given his personality, you name it. But those people didn't even know his parents if they were able to say such things.
They didn't see what he'd seen, time and time again.
Sure Mom yelled a lot, but those people never saw the way Dad smiled after one of her fits when she wasn't looking. Like he'd see it as her being passionate instead of bitchy. Like he loved that she was that way, despite normally being the one on the receiving end of her wrath.
And Dad would have his head in the clouds or in his training more often than not, but the world didn't see how caringly Mom would clean up his wounds as he arrived home, placing a soft kiss on each of the bigger ones like it would somehow make them heal faster. How she would mend every little blemish of his training gi, all the way down to meticulously re-embroidering his Turtle School emblem by hand, and scrub clean his boots every day because they were important to him.
They'd never be all lovey-dovey in public; it just wasn't in their natures. Only extremely rarely would they be caught kissing on the lips, preferring the customary peck on the cheek or a simple touch to show their affection when other people were around. But he'd see the nuances back then, and he'd hear - even if very discreetly and low - how all the love they didn't publicize would be consummated almost every night through the thin walls between their bedrooms. He got used to it eventually, but that particular lightning-fast rise of his dad's Ki never stopped bringing an uneasy feeling to his stomach, though, as much as he'd tried not to notice it when it spiked just before the house grew silent again.
That being said, it was familiar, and as such, deeply missed, nowadays.
No one else needed to know how much they loved each other. Inside that bedroom, when nobody else was around, that's when they'd truly show it. Fuck the whole world if they wouldn't believe it.
"That's really sweet, Gohan," Videl told him so very softly, smiling dearly.
Damn beer, stirring up thoughts that he'd managed to repress for so long… He didn't want to think about how happy Mom was back then, a completely different person than the one she was right now. "Heaven and hell?" Gohan asked to steer away from the topic.
"I sure hope so. Some people deserve the distinction."
He nodded. "I agree."
"Who do you think chooses, though?"
Good question, Gohan thought, drinking from his bottle. He knew the answer, of course, but what would he think of the matter if he wasn't a member of this very enlightened inner-circle? "Whoever it is, I think they can be trusted," he ended up saying. "They wouldn't put just anyone assigning fates, right?"
Videl giggled. "Yeah, I guess you're right." Her beer was almost finished, he noticed. He looked at his own and felt satisfied that he'd be finishing it up shortly as well. "Okay, toning it down," she continued. "Favorite color?"
The one of his father's gi. Dad called it "orange", but it was such a deep shade that it'd always seem rather, "Red. Yours?"
"Blue," she answered. "Though dark blue, not like my eyes."
"Okay, how about… favourite food?"
"Any type of pasta. You?"
He snorted. "Any type of food." They laughed quietly. Was there anything he didn't like to eat?
Her turn. "Favorite sport? I take it yours is football."
"Martial arts, actually," he responded. "Been doing it since forever."
That both surprised and amused her. "Really?" she said really pitchy. "Cool. Good to know." Her smile was weird but he couldn't quite place it, like she'd uncovered more than just this dull piece of information about him. Whatever. Blaming the beer for the lack of clarity in reading her expression, he went ahead with his next question.
"Chocolate or vanilla?"
"What?"
Oh, right, as if there was just one option. Wake up, stupid brain! "Umm… ice cream."
"Ice-cream. Ice-cream," she said while looking up in thought. "I'd have to say… vanilla."
"And here I thought you were a chocoholic like me," he joked.
"Don't get me wrong, I do love me my chocolate, but I prefer my ice-creams pale and freckled for some reason." They chuckled. Pale and freckled… nice. "Okay, so… Your greatest addiction," Videl continued.
"Coffee, for sure," he admitted. Something he'd been trying to come to terms with, but ended up having to embrace considering how there was no way he could be a proper person without it in the mornings.
"Oh, thank goodness, I'm not the only one." She giggled. "I'm trying to reduce it to two cups a day but it's really hard."
He snickered. "At this moment I'm just trying not to drink too much, but I can't start my day without a big one. The darker the better."
"Amen to that."
Okay, what else could he ask? "Umm… Oh, I know. Brothers or sisters?
"None. You?"
"A brother and a sister. Seven and eight years-old."
"Oh, cool. Are they going to school here in the city too?"
"Yeah, they just started. My sister was homeschooled for a year, but then we've decided to enroll them both."
"Do you have a picture of them?"
He nodded, putting down his bottle to reach for his wallet. There were two pictures, in there, one including his mom and Bulma also, but he liked the other better so he took that one out instead. His three little pests; Trunks and Goten side-by-side, and Mia behind them, forcing all their heads together with an arm around each of the other's necks. Their huge grins had brought him out of so many slumps he couldn't even begin to count. "That's Mia, and that's Goten," he said while pointing. "And that's my cousin Trunks. He's basically my little brother too."
"Gohan... They're adorable!" Videl took it in her hands with a big massive grin, and then looked back at him. "They seem like amazing kids." She returned the photo.
"They are." He took a moment to look at it in his own hand now. A soft exhale brought a sweet smile to his features before returning the photo to its place. "Your turn."
"Okay, let's see..." Her lips pursed outwards as she considered her topic. "Girlfriend? Or... boyfriend?" She winked playfully.
His eyes narrowed and his lips curled in amusement. "Are you asking if I have one or which one would I rather have?"
She chuckled. "Both."
"Girlfriend and none."
"No girlfriend? Why is that?"
He snorted. First, because he was pretty sure there wasn't one in his future, given his… special life circumstances. And second, "Because this is the longest conversation I've ever had with a girl that's not related to me."
Videl laughed. "That might be the problem. And why is that?"
"Maybe because I'm an homeschooled geek mountain-boy?"
Her laugh went up a notch or two, her whole body quaking and hunching with the action in such a way that reeled him right along. The echo reverberated throughout the slumbering dark campus like it'd suddenly sparked with life. A life that was warming him up inside. How long hadn't he laughed like this?
"Your turn," Videl said through some final chuckles.
"Okay, so… Pets?"
"None."
"Yeah, me neither." He hadn't seen Icarus since the little dragon grew up and went away. He missed that troublemaker to pieces but knew it was inevitable; kids leaving the nest and whatnot.
"Cat or dog, if you had one?" she asked.
Dragon, for sure. "Dog, maybe."
"Yeah, me too." A mischievous smirk crept in and took over Videl's relaxed features. "Okay... sexual turn on?"
Gohan's eyes widened instantly. "Whoa, you're going for the kill, huh?"
"You know it!" she beamed. "Mine's muscles. Cliché, I know, but goddammit, give me a hard chest and a six-pack and I'm drooling all over the floor."
For some reason he swallowed dry and didn't respond. He went through his teenage years with his fair amount of exploration, mishaps, and desires, and college had been way too keen on determining his preferences when it came to the different aspects and proportions of a woman's body, but what the hell did he know about "it", anyway?
His father was gone. His "uncle", who most certainly would've been the one who could help him the most regarding his Saiyan hormonal specificities was also gone. His closest friend and father-figure was an asexual green alien that would most definitely loathe any kind of conversation that even mentioned human emotions. And all the others... After so long, he just wasn't that comfortable around them enough to ask.
There was Mom and Bulma, sure, but that would just be... He mentally shivered. Either way, the question wasn't about sex itself, but turn ons, and that… Well, TV had always been pretty eager to taunt him with them, so he'd known for a while how that piece of clothing sparked an interest a little more engaging than all the rest.
"So?" she pressed for an answer.
Sucking it up, he responded in a long, defeated exhale. "Thongs..."
Her expression suddenly turned shocked mixed up with astonished. "Like... the underwear? Really?"
"Yeah..."
Her mouth wouldn't shut. "Wow... For a mountain-boy you do have some very specific tastes."
"Shut up, muscle girl," he shot back immediately through her giggles, diverting the issue with another question. "What about turn offs?"
"Umm... mustaches," Videl answered. "Yuck."
"Yeah, me too."
It made her laugh to the point of shedding a tear. She cleared it and placed her next question. "Things you're bad at."
Gohan thought for a bit but there was no doubt on the answer, grimacing before saying, "Dancing. My mom tried to teach me when I was a kid but eventually gave up. I was that bad."
She chuckled. "I'm really, really bad at keeping my mouth shut. Miss Hot-head, over here."
"It's not a bad thing to speak from your heart."
"Yeah, but sometimes I can tell that what I want to say is just going to make things worse and can't keep it in anyway." She paused, taking one last sip from her beer. "I'm much better now, though."
He smiled and nodded. "Then, things you're good at."
"People tend like my cooking. You?"
Again, no issues with deciding on a response. "I've been told I'm good at reading people." Dad would say so, Bulma would say so, and even Krillin, back in the day. Piccolo never had, but the way he'd ask for his opinion on certain aspects, and actually seemed like he was interested in hearing what he'd have to say, told him the Namekian saw the same thing as all the others when it came to this particular ability of his.
"Oh, yeah?" Videl said. "How about me?"
"What about you?"
"Tell me one thing you saw in me since we've met."
"Umm…" Oh, boy… "I'd rather not."
"Aww, come on. I promise I won't be mad or anything."
He sighed and took a moment. It'd been so obvious to him, a thing that he'd noticed ever since that first time they met on bleachers by the football field. "I think... you deserved someone that treats you better. And I think you know that."
Her expression toned down to serious. She looked into the distance. "You're talking about Rick."
Player thirteen, yeah; the quarterback. He'd learned his name ever since joining the Tigers. "Yes."
"It's... complicated."
"It's none of my business. I'm sorry," he told her right away.
"No, don't be. You're right, but..."
"It's complicated," Gohan finished for her.
She smiled and nodded sadly, though he couldn't help but think love should be anything but complicated. At least true love, like Mom and Dad's. Life was complicated enough as it was, the person you're supposed to end up with should be making things simpler, not worse.
It was exactly the reason he'd never have such a thing, love. A girlfriend, a wife; no one person could help make sense of the mess that was his existence. Dad was lucky to have found Mom - though it'd happened more the other way around - and he wouldn't even start on Vegeta, but even so, Gohan knew it'd be different for him.
Dad was way happier with Mom than he'd ever be all by himself, but he wouldn't be miserable if they'd never gotten together. Love itself was foreign to him before Mom; he wouldn't have missed it because he would never have known of it. Same thing with Vegeta. They'd basically ruined things for him, those two, because he now knew how having such a person was a possibility, since he'd see it in both their relationships, so he knew what he'd be missing.
The world didn't have enough luck for everyone, he figured. It was only natural.
After a few moments in silence, Videl continued to ask, "Do you believe in love at first sight?"
"I don't know," he told her in all honesty. "I believe in passion at first sight. I think love should be deeper than that." He shrugged a shoulder. "But what do I know?"
"I think you're right."
The silence crept in again, though Gohan forced himself to brake it not long after. "I read something else about you."
She looked over. "What?"
"You're strong." Both physically and mentally, no doubt about it.
"How can you tell?"
"I just can."
Videl looked down at the bottle in her hands. "You're just saying that to make me feel better."
"I'm not. Although I am sad that I made you sad."
She smiled. "It's okay. I'll be alright."
"Still sad." Ever since that first day they'd met, she always seemed so happy and full of life, and now, like some stupid asshole he'd robbed it from her. He should've just kept quiet.
She took a moment and then a smirk transformed her whole face. "Would it help if I told you I was wearing a thong?"
Silently, his lips pressed together and he moved away from her gaze and her grin. He tried not to accompany her in her laughter but couldn't. It didn't help at all, that piece of information, but he'd stand the teasing if it brought back her sunny disposition. "Only a strong person would give it their all to make things work," he told her then. "To save things. Weak people run. Or cheat."
She smiled warmly. "But what if there isn't anything left to save?"
Gohan measured his response. He didn't want to say anything that would push her into breaking up with her boyfriend but... he couldn't help but think she wouldn't even have asked that question if she hadn't been considering it herself in the first place. At the end of the day, she was her own person, and her decisions were hers to make, so he put aside the specifics of the situation and responded as frankly as he could. "A strong person would know when to move on."
Videl nodded. She was smart and perceptive; she knew he was right.
A cheerful tune came from her jacket pocket then, notifying her of Erasa's text that stated she was welcome to return to their room.
Gohan swiftly jumped down and helped Videl to follow, extending his hand in support. The path and short elevator ride were comfortably quiet again, and when it stopped at her floor, she walked off, holding the door to keep it from closing. "Thank you," she said.
"For what?"
"The company. And the advice."
Gohan just smiled. Good to know he didn't mess up on either of those.
"I hope there's still something to be saved," she continued, "and I hope I can see it when there's not." She smiled back. "Good night, Gohan."
"Good night, Videl."
I just want to point out that I know very little about football. In my country, soccer is king, and everything else is very much toned down. We don't have football, although we have the slightly different rugby. I could have chosen any other sport that I would be a little more familiar with, but I like to research things when I'm writing, to check my sources, so to speak, and I thought it would be a good opportunity to force myself to know more about this sport. And it's also a great mix of team/full-contact sport that I wanted for Gohan, so... The bottom line is, if you see something wrong or inaccurate when I write about it, you now know the reason. Although, I welcome all nudges in the right direction, of course. :)