"The Department of Health and Human Services has just released its report on the devastating tsunami that hit the shores of Mt Paozu this evening," began an anchorman, his voice telecasted to thousands of homes throughout the general Orange Star City area. "Estimates say that the death toll is in the low thousands. The central government is working towards-"
In an instant, the broadcast was turned off. Chi Chi put down the remote on the living room table and dusted the top of the TV. Normally, she liked having some background noise running while she cooked and cleaned. But not when the news was tragic. So she turned that stuff off.
'Gout the floors – clean the bathroom – cook dinner. So much to do, so little time,' mumbled Chi Chi to herself, mentally rattling off her daily to do list. Housework was grueling – but worth it. Everything had to be immaculate. Had to be.
Mulling over where her cleaning muse would take her next, a picture of her family caught her eye. It was at the county fair. Goku was in the center holding a gold ribbon with Gohan sitting on his lap. Somehow he had gotten himself enrolled in the county hotdog eating contest. It wasn't much of a contest.
Now, the memory was bittersweet. More bitter than sweet. She had known long before Krillin gave her the bad news that something had gone wrong – after all, Goku missed a meal. That just does not happen. Once again, she was on the sidelines. Capable of only fretting and worrying about things far beyond her control. So she cleaned.
'Now the kitchen or the bathroom,' mused the housewife, before deciding on the kitchen. In a hurricane of soap and water, the princess attacked the room with such a feverish gusto that she didn't notice her father open the front door and peak in on her manic episode.
The sound of the man's sigh caught the edge of her hearing. She suspected an intruder. Countrywoman didn't lock their doors or anything as nobody tended to live within miles of anybody. Letting her instincts guide her, she grabbed the frying pan on the stove and whirled around without looking and thrust it in an upward arc. A small smirk graced her lips when she heard a thud. Serves the punk who thought he could rob her. She still had it.
Imagine her shock when her eyes caught up with her arm. Laying supine on the floor was her father, jaw bruised and knocked unconscious. Embarrassed and a tad distressed, the young dame did what was natural: she facepalmed.
'Oh father.'
The Ox King woke up in a mild daze. Pretty certain that he had sustained a mild concussion, it took a couple minutes for the man to realize he was laying in Chi Chi's nuptial bed. When he did, he was profoundly embarrassed.
It wasn't long after that Chi Chi came in, transitioning from cleaner to nurse at the drop of the hat. Carrying a tray of soup and crackers, the man's daughter effortlessly glided to the top of the bed and laid the meal down on the top cover. The matriarch looked at her father, who was looking squeamishly at her, and nodded at him to take his meal. He did so.
"Sorry about hitting you," apologized Chi Chi, feeling the urge to scratch the bag of her head like her husband. She wasn't her husband. "Got carried away and didn't look."
"It's alright," dismissed the Ox King, having suffered far worse knocks in his life than that. "Should have introduced myself before stepping in."
Chi Chi softly smiled at her father. Touching his shoulder, she shrugged her shoulders. "Probably wouldn't have done you any good. I was a little lost in what I was doing."
"I noticed," noted the behemoth, flinching and clenching his eyes in preparation for his daughter's reaction. She was a firecracker at the best of times and more violent than nitroglycerine when vulnerable. Trying to think of a way to change the subject, he spied his food. "Thanks for the food. Sorry about making myself a burden."
His daughter gave him an ironic smile and took the plate from him when he was finished. "It was no trouble at all."
She turned to walk out of the room, but before she could he called back to her. "Wait! I have something to show you."
Looking at him suspiciously, the Ox King fumbled through his clothes for what he wanted as his daughter paced back towards him expectantly. Finding it, the man pulled it out and handed it to Chi Chi who looked at him quizzically.
"It's a newspaper article," stated the housewife, confused clearly about why her father was handing her some silly piece of parchment.
"Yah, read it," insisted the man.
Chi Chi scanned the headline. It was that tsunami again. "I heard about the tsunami in the news already. Very tragic but what does that have to do with anything?"
"The damage is bad," replied the Ox King, his face grim and determined. "There's going to be a need for hundred' of volunteer to help sort out that mess. I would like it if you and I helped out."
Sucking in a deep breath, the man readied his defenses for the storm that was about to pelt him. Chi Chi was not exactly the most reasonable person when she had to confront something she really didn't like. It was made even worse because he wasn't going to force her into doing it. Like he even could. The last time he tried doing something like that when she was teen. In response, she threw at least half the china cabinet at him. Good times.
Her response was more tempered than he expected. "Why would I do that? Not when Gohan is still out with that demon. Afraid and alone. Oh, my poor baby!"
Theatrics aside, she was right. Gohan was alone with a demon, but that wasn't something they could do anything about. Piccolo was stronger than all of them put together. Fretting would only make you miserable. And Chi Chi was fretting about it. "There's nothing we can do about that, honey."
Chi Chi's face twisted like somebody had just thrown gasoline on a fuel fire. "Nothing that we can do! There's everything we can do! My baby is out there alone! We should go out there and save him! But nobody is willing because they have to prepare for the Saiyans. Like that means anything with Piccolo out on the loose!"
It wasn't any secret to anybody that knew her that Chi Chi had an unbridled hatred of Piccolo. Fostered by the near death of her husband, the woman viewed the Namek as nothing more than a monster. A monster with complete control of her son at that. As irrational as her suggestions were though, he knew that the only thing he would get over arguing it would be furniture. Furniture thrown at him anyway.
"Gohan is a tough boy, Chi Chi. He has the blood of his father running through his veins," assured the Ox King, before preparing himself to make his real point. "But what would he think if you didn't help those people? What would Goku think?"
Indignation colored the Son Matriarch's face, but so did shame. Petty self interest clashed in that look with the good spirit that attracted Son Goku to her in the first place. After her cooking of course. But she wouldn't be Son Goku's wife if she took what she wanted over what was right. "Why should I do this?"
"Because they need your help," repeated the Ox King, delighted that implementing his trump card didn't immediately devolve into a shouting match. "Because it's the right thing to do. Because it would make your family proud."
In a fiery snort, the woman shook her head. "Alright, I'll do it."
It was a reserved yes. The Ox King knew it was so. But he didn't care. Provided she did what she said she would, that was all that mattered. Call it patronizing, but he knew what Chi Chi needed more than even she did. And that was to get out of the house. To do something for somebody rather than fret and agonize over her son. A son that just wasn't going to be home for at least a year. Cleaning neurotically wouldn't cleanse her soul of the worry. But helping others might.
And with that, the two began to pack for their journey to the coast.
"You want me to do what?"
Chiaotzu was confused. Being woken up at three in the morning and then spirited away to the farthest corner of the lookout for no apparent reason would've perplexed him under any circumstances. By Tien no less, which wasn't surprising. Under normal circumstances the man was intense, but ever since he confessed to him the man's growing obsession about defeating the Saiyans was becoming apparent. It was worrying and exhausting.
"Keep things a secret. Don't tell Krillin and Yamcha what I've told you," insisted the assassin, pacing back and forth anxiously. Chiaotzu could almost feel the strain in his muscles. He didn't like it.
But he wasn't sure if he could do what Tien asked. Fidgeting anxiously under the weight of Tien's anxious look, the psychic tried to lick his lips to stimulate a response. "I'm not comfortable with this, Tien. Krillin and Yamcha deserve to know. It wouldn't be good to lie to them about the Saiyans."
It wasn't the response Tien was looking for. "It won't do them any good. Either they will lose too much confidence to be useful or they will get in the way."
'Get in the way. To be useful,' mumbled Chiaotzu to himself, not liking the type of thoughts running through his friend's head that would make him say such cold things. He didn't like it because it sounded familiar. "Why would they get in the way?"
Tien looked at Chiaotzu like he just asked him what two plus two equaled. He may be horrible at math, but he wasn't that stupid. 'Two plus two equals,' mumbled the psychic, mortified when his mind drew a blank. 'Two plus two equals.' Still blank. Eventually he figured it out by counting fingers.
In the meantime, Tien realized that he had to give more than a ridiculous look to get his point across. "Chiaotzu, Krillin and Yamcha aren't like us. They don't have the...skills we have. They've trained their entire lives to be warriors. It's the only way they know how to fight. But they can't beat the Saiyans that way. I couldn't do it and they certainly can't."
At that point, the assassin stopped and waited for whether his friend needed him to simplify things even farther. Chiaotzu may suck at math but he didn't need to have his hand held. The psychic nodded his head that he understood.
Delighted that his friend understood him, Tien placed his leading leg forward and dropped into a more relaxed posture. "When I was in the Pendulum Room, I saw the kind of monsters we will face. They want us to fight like warriors. It's the game they want us to play. We can't give them what they want. But I only understand one other type of life. One other road to travel. It isn't what I want, but the road of the honorable warrior will only get us killed. But the road of the...remorseless assassin?"
Tien's friend knew that his friend was probably getting to a point, but at that moment it didn't matter. Almost immediately after uttering those poisonous words, the former assassin dropped his head and cupped his hands around his temples. Chiaotzu didn't need an invitation to embrace his friend. He would support his friend no matter what resolution. He was with him when he was evil and he was with him when he was good. He'd be with him no matter what.
The comparative goliath shuddered but didn't shed tears. His stony eyes Chiaotzu could feel hovering under him. But they were soft stone. Malleable stone. He could almost hear him whisper a heartfelt thank you into his ear. It delighted Chiaotzu to know that Tien was still in there despite his ongoing metamorphosis.
No longer needing encouragement, Chiaotzu and Tien separated and returned to standing opposite each other. Well, hovering in Chiaotzu's case. Close enough.
"So what do we do?" asked Chiaotzu.
"I've already done what we needed to do first," replied Tien, smiling as his friend gave him a curious look. "The two Saiyans that are coming to Earth are called Nappa and Vegeta. They work for a group called the Planet Trade Organization led by a guy called Frieza. They are here for immortality and will kill us all to achieve it. Of the two, Vegeta may look weaker than Nappa but he is much stronger. That being said, we couldn't beat either of them head on."
Chiaotzu was starting to get weary of all the 'if we fight these guys straight on, we'll get slaughtered' comments. He got it already.
The second part was when the psychic perked up. "But they aren't unbeatable, despite their amazing power. Powerful they may be but they will let it go to their heads. They will consider us beneath them. They will underestimate us. And when they realize that we won't play their games, they will get angry. When they get angry, they will make mistakes. And we'll use those mistakes to finish them."
The smile got more subversive the farther down the rabbit hole Chiaotzu got. "How will we fight them? To be honest, I'm not sure yet. I'm working on something right now. Something that might just be enough." The triclops looked up to the sky. "Right now, all I need you to do is keep things quiet. Krillin and Yamcha wouldn't understand why I need to change. All they would do is waste time trying to resist the inevitable. And I think Kami agreed. That's why he sent me that sign."
If the psychic's eyes could bug out, they'd probably be on Namek. Kami was responsible for this. Inconceivable. Only one response could really describe Chiaotzu's shock. "How!"
Trap card set, Tien went back into lecture mode. "Our victory felt forced in the Pendulum Room that first time. Presented. It didn't make sense. So I checked and discovered the deceit. Kami lied to us. For what reason I don't know, but I don't think he did it without reason. It was a sign to me. To tell me what needed to be done without disturbing his other pupils. It was brilliant."
Chiaotzu didn't know what to think of this. Tien's logic seemed ironclad to the psychic but he still wasn't comfortable. Kami was god. Omnipresent and benevolent. Would he really lie to them? And if Tien and Kami apparently thought that the course should stay the same, should he really rock the boat?
"I'll do it," agreed the psychic, feeling embarrassed with himself for caving so easily. But apart of him wondered if Tien was misreading Kami. This didn't sound like the old guardian handiwork at all. It was something he wanted to get cleared up, no matter what his friend thought.
"Good," replied the assassin, his smile warm now that he knew his secret was safe for the moment. But he didn't like that small glint in his friend's eye.
And with that, the two parted. Both slightly suspicious of the other as the first tendrils of light pierced through the dark of the spot that they had just exited.
"Begone, my son. You're disgrace is a stain upon the honor of my name!"
Goku looked on in wonder as Bardock's wrath turned away from him towards Raditz. Apparently, the decree had its intended effect when the long-haired Saiyan gave the other Saiyan a venomous glare before vanishing forevermore into the white haze. Goku was not sorry to see him go. Good riddance.
The remorseless eye of Bardock then turned on him. Snorting derisively, unconcerned with Goku's fate, the older Saiyan turned around and began to walk away from him. Unlike his older brother though, he didn't vanish. In fact, the mist didn't seem to have any effect on him whatsoever.
But while the Earth-raised Saiyan was busy being star-struck, he didn't notice his father stop and bristle with annoyance. "Nitwit, are you coming or not?"
The off-color remark jolted our hero out of his reverie. Having to shake his head to even realize that somebody was talking to him after so long, the passive giant almost panicked when the older Saiyan had trudged off almost beyond his sight.
"Yah, I am!" shouted Goku exuberantly, running to catch up. "Just wait up a minute."
Bardock gave him a derisive glare. "Not a chance in hell."
Weeks had past since that first meeting. The wandering continued but Goku felt that things were different. No matter how distant Bardock could be, and he was certainly distant, just another person around gave the Saiyan comfort. He wasn't alone. He wasn't left with that blankness again. That soul erasing terror. That made you question everything about you. Even whether you existed at all. He would've gladly held hands with King Piccolo and Raditz just to know that something was alive. That something existed.
Thankfully, he didn't have to travel with such odoriferous personalities. Bardock himself was no picnic either though. The man spoke very rarely but when he did you could bet your ass it was going to be some jab. At his most forgiving, even Goku had to admit the man was caustic and abrasive. Goku didn't need to be a mind reader to realize his father didn't give a shit about him. Then again, he didn't really consider him his father either.
Although the two didn't strictly need to stop moving, they did so constantly. Both dropped to the ground like two people next to a campfire, bar the fire and the camp. For a while, Bardock would just drop his head and close his eyes. Like that he would remain, like a statue, for hours on end. Goku just assumed he was meditating. And he would just him some times.
But this time, something else popped into his head and wouldn't let him go. For weeks, he had just been led like a sheep by his shepherd. Where was he being led to? And should he trust Bardock at all?
Bardock, somehow detecting his change in attitude, opened his eyes and raised his head. A small, mocking smirk graced his lip. "About time that you got your head out of your ass. I was wondering how long you were going to follow me without question like a pathetic puppy."
Used to Bardock's caustic attitude, and being accustomed to worse anyway, Goku shrugged it off. "Where are we?"
A small cruel look flashed across the older Saiyan's face. "In Hell, of course. Are you too stupid not to realize what happens to you when you fall off Snake Way?"
Goku crossed his arms across his chest and lowered one of his eye brows. "I've been to Hell before. It looks nothing like this place."
Mirroring Goku's posture, but with a more vicious edge, Bardock chuckled. "Yah, so? Just because you've seen some podunk part of Hell makes you believe you've seen everything? That everybody in Hell gets the same punishment no matter what they did?"
Despite his carefree nature, Goku didn't like to be treated like a child. Normally, he'd let nasty comments pass by him like water under a bridge. Wandering for what seemed like months in nothingness had left his usually bottomless pools of patience dangerously dry. "Then where are we? Why am I here?"
The other Saiyan really liked to push his son's buttons. "Why you are here? Because you fell off Snake Way. I said that two seconds ago but apparently you're too stupid to use those ears you were born with."
Feeling like he was about to rip his hair out, Goku shook his head. "Is there any way out of here? I need to get back up Snake Way and train with King Kai!"
Bardock put his index and middle fingers on the groove of his lips, squinting his eyes in mock-concentration. "Have you tried working the shaft? Because you're fucked."
Getting tired of being made fun of, Goku turned around and grumbled crossly. "Mock me all you want, it doesn't explain why are you leading me somewhere."
The older Saiyan just shrugged his shoulders out of the corner of Goku's eye. "Don't really want to. I consider you a failure not worth the effort to help. But I have my orders to follow."
"Orders. Who is ordering you?" questioned Goku, not expecting that for a response. The Saiyans didn't seem like the type of characters to take orders from anybody and certainly not so nonchalantly.
"Oh, the boss," remarked Bardock, one of his eyebrows arching quizzically. "You think I was dragging you along for fun and games? On second thought, don't answer that question. Whatever that comes out will be stupid. In any case, he is the one that wants you. Don't ask me why. He just ordered me to bring you."
Apparently not wanting to finish the talk, the older Saiyan turned away from his son and started walking again. As his son stood still like a bewildered lamb, a vein on Bardock's temple burst and he yelled over to him. "Are you coming or not, boy?"
Complying immediately, Goku joined his father and the two faded back into the landscape. The wandering began anew, but the Saiyan was too distracted to even consider his father or his loneliness. Who was this boss? What did he want with him? And why did he have a bad feeling about all of this?
Something told him he wasn't going to look forward to what's on the horizon.
Gohan had planned to head into town that night. When things had to be done, you don't put off until tomorrow what can be done today. At least that was what his mother said. Since he was a good boy, he committed the proverb to heart and tried to live by it.
Today was the day. Neither Pigero nor Gohan wanted anybody else to know about this adventure. Partly from shame on Gohan's part to the possible panic if all the orphans realized Gohan had disappeared. To make matters worse, the weather was treacherous. In the afternoon, the clouds darkened and the heavens began to open. Torrents of rain pelted the ground, creating vast swathes of mud in every direction. Good luck trying to get into town when the main road is impassable and the rivers are flooding.
For Gohan though, things could be worse. Nasty conditions didn't bother him. The biting frost of the wasteland was far worse. But as night came, the danger would heighten. But it was the only time that Gohan felt he could go and not worry anybody.
So here he was. Sitting in a dark dank house when Pigero descended the staircase for their rendezvous. Everybody else was asleep. Stagnant drops of water fell from the ceiling, splashing on the two children when they didn't innudate the moldy carpet beneath their feet. Only faint candlelight illuminated their faces. Where the tallow's came from, Gohan had nary a clue.
"Follow me," beseeched the eldest boy, in a tone that Gohan that seemed like a hybrid of requesting and demanding. Which one Gohan could not say. Not like it mattered. He was going to follow anyway. Better than waiting for wallpaper to dry down here.
Gohan slowly accompanied the pre-teen as they ascended to the top level of the manor. Clinging to the bannister, the two said nothing to each other but Gohan felt himself growing curious as they reached the top level. It was a place he had been categorically forbidden from entering.
The sick room.
Stepping off the stairs onto the floor, Pigero grabbed a piece of his tattered shirt and ripped out another chunk of it. He then took the chunk and ripped it in two, handing one half to Gohan as he grabbed a candle to light their path. "Hold it over your mouth. We can't let you get sick."
Gohan knew what to say when somebody did him a favor. "Thank you." Taking the little piece of cloth, Gohan wrapped it around his mouth and nose. Nodding to the older boy, the two turned the corner and entered the ward.
It was less one massive room and more like a hall. Every twenty or so feet there would be door on each side. Peering in, you could see one or two kids on a bed. Pale and shaking with fever, almost every kid looked like they were on death's door. Vomit and runny stool stained the floor, giving the rooms the most pungent of odors. Not to mention the cloud of flies and mosquitoes. And being that there wasn't an adult in miles, it was safe to say nobody had any answers for treating the gamut of infections running through the makeshift orphanage.
By the end, Gohan could practically feel tears swell into his eyes. They needed help or they would die. And he didn't know the slightest thing about healing anybody. Pressing his "mask" closer to his face, he followed Pigero through the hall of plague out into a closet. There he saw the pre-teen open a latch in the ceiling and unfold a ladder that led into the attic. The two boys climbed up and Pigero then closed the hatch.
Pigero opened his mouth after a brief silence. "Sorry, this is the only place I could talk to you in private." The boy seemed thoughtful but concerned. His brow frazzled and lip curled in a frown.
Gohan scratched the back of his head. Maybe emulating Goku's favorite 'embarrassed but everything will be alright' pose would work for him? It didn't. Just felt awkward. "It's fine. What can I do for you?"
Turning his head to the side, a small blush tinting Pigero's cheeks. Pressing his palm into the reddened flesh, the teen shook his head. "You're a good boy, Gohan. I know I've said this before, but I feel I must say it again. Are you sure that you want to stay with us and not continue on to your mother? She isn't far from you."
A frown graced Gohan's lips as well as a twinge of annoyance. He had heard it from Rom, from Chico and even Pigero. No, he wasn't going to abandon people that were in need. Loyalty meant something to him. That being said, he knew the other boy was just looking out for him. "No, I won't do that. They need me so I will stay."
Relief and disappointment flashed across Pigero's face at the same time before he composed himself. "Sorry, I asked. I know it's a lot to ask from you and it's just very...bleak here. I wouldn't blame anybody for trying to escape this. It was so easy back when it was just me I was trying to care for."
'What do you mean '"back when?"' thought Gohan, until the meaning came to him. "So you mean to tell me..."
"Yes, Gohan," affirmed the boy, scratching the side of his face sheepishly, clearing not prepared for the detour himself. "I've been an orphan for years. Longer than any of us."
"But how?" blurted out the half-Saiyan without thinking. When his mind caught up to him. "How did you survive?"
The pre-teen shrugged his shoulders. "I made it onto high ground in time. Saw the storm move in. Carried away houses like they were play toys. You can't describe the terror."
Gohan found himself captivated by the account. The kind of macabre curiosity that leads most of us to crowd in front of a television and listen to an anchor chant about how some thousand people just got gunned down in the street.
"In any case, I'm getting off topic," stated Pigero, trying to keep a happy face as he fiddled with his fingers anxiously. "This is the only part of the house I could spirit you off from without nobody figuring it out. That and the you'd get to see the sick. Even if it is only a glance. It really is terrible."
Gohan nodded. The image of those dying souls seemed glued upon his mind. If he had any doubts about stealing the medicine now, he didn't any longer.
"Go for the medicine," replied Pigero, his face morphing into a smaller, more genuine smile. "I know I've told you to steal it and you still need to. But it would be stupid of me to tell you nothing about where you are running off too."
"Only one hospital would've survived the tsunami. You'll see it on a cliff-face. It's not very large. When inside, go for the a metal cabinet in the ER underneath reception. It will likely be guarded. I think one of the center ones is where they keep the medicine."
"Okay," agreed Gohan, unaware of Pigero's shady smile upon agreeing. Watching Pigero stand up and walk towards the window at the end of the room. Unfastening the lock, the pre-teen opened the window and put his hand forward.
"Go now. Don't worry, I know you'll be fine. Hurry. You smelt how bad things are in there. They won't hold on much longer."
Nodding his head in agreement, the four year old walked to the open window and hopped onto the sill. The winds were howling and the rain made short work of his shirt. It was so bad he could barely see the muddy road beneath the ledge. Just before he was about to jump, he felt a hand pat his shoulder.
Turning around he saw Pigero. "Thank you, Gohan. You don't know what this means for us. You really are a good boy."
The encouragement made Gohan feel good about himself. Giving the teen a beaming smile, the boy nodded. "Don't worry, Pigero. Help will be here soon." And with that, the boy jumped and charged into the stormy night.
He wouldn't be prepared for what he was going to find.
Very transitory chapter. Couldn't really be helped.
