There could be some strange formatting. I apologize.
-
Piccolo was
almost done flying through the nondescript air that separated planets and areas
in the Afterlife. He had trained himself for quite
some time. Now he wanted to go to the HFIL and see if there were any new
training options for him there. Just then he saw a new arrival. It was
Vegita's boy, Trunks. Piccolo smiled; so Goku had finished him off too. This
was rather amusing, from the looks of Trunks' face.
Krillin saw
Trunks as well and came over to him. Thinking over his options, Piccolo decided
to go for direct shock value and tell the complete
truth from the beginning. This was a situation where that would be more
surprising than any lie. He shook his head at the absurdity.
"Did you kill him?" Krillin asked. He shut up as Trunks glared at him.
"He
was too strong. I have underestimated him extremely. But he doesn't know enough
about the androids. They'll be coming in just two years.
Then he'll die."
Piccolo sauntered over beside the small group collecting around Trunks and smiled mischievously down at them.
"By the way, Trunks, your timeline never existed."
"What?" In the youth's eyes there was a spark of horror, something greater than should have been there.
"All
you are is a figment of the anger and hate Vegita has. He's been here the
entire time, dreaming of a way to kill Goku. The real Trunks isn't
born yet and is on Earth. The second you died, your time machine disappeared.
Go ahead, ask King Yemma about your timeline. He can't find it,
because it never even existed."
"That's
not possible!" However, Trunks was on his knees now. Piccolo left, cape
fluttering behind him. Everything he had said was true, but he
had really wanted to be the one to tell him, not just let King Yemma tell him
in a monotone. As Trunks realized this, his eyes glazed a solid white.
Momentarily, a darkness seemed to appear around him, his power level started
seeping away to only what Vegita's anger was, about fifteen
million. Not nearly as troubling. Running again, leaving the devastated Trunks
behind, Piccolo got down into the lower part of the Afterlife. It
was amazing how the truth had made Goku stronger, and it had also made Trunks
weaker.
"Yahhh!" Something came shooting in from the side and Piccolo only just ducked it. He turned to see Vegita standing there, glaring at him.
"Hello, Vegita!" Piccolo said amiably. "How are you doing?"
Roaring,
Vegita charged at him again. Piccolo grabbed his hand and swung him into the
ground several times, making Vegita shaped imprints in
the rock. Vegita got up again and grinned evilly again.
"I'll kill you again, Namek!"
"You can't do that," Piccolo said, leaning against a wall. "I'm already dead."
"Do
you know what happens to people who are killed in the Afterlife?" Vegita's
smile grew even wider, "They simply cease to exist. They are
beyond all recovery."
"Oh, I know that," Piccolo said flippantly, examining his nails. "Why should I care?"
"Because
I'll kill you!" Vegita roared, going Super Saiyan. He charged, ramming
Piccolo in the gut. The Namek was pushed back a few feet, no
serious harm done. He just smiled down at the saiyan, then grabbed him by the
scruff of the neck and hurled him through the ceiling into the
next cave. Piccolo followed through with an uppercut.
"Big Bang Attack!"
Launching
all his energy, Vegita sent out the sparkling orb of light at Piccolo. The
Namek smiled and grabbed it as it came. The orb shrank,
dimmed, and then went out as Piccolo absorbed the energy from it.
"That's not possible!" Vegita gasped in shock.
"It
is," Piccolo disagreed. "It takes a lot of skill and concentration.
These androids Trunks is talking about can do it without even thinking
about it. I got the idea from his mind. I have to wonder if the real androids
that Goku will fight have the same ability."
"How are you so strong?" Vegita attacked him again, Piccolo dodged his wild swipes and punched him into the wall.
"I've
been training since I got here," Piccolo told him. "You haven't done
anything. I'm as strong as Goku was when he first became a Super
Saiyan. And just between you and me, even his first time was at least three
times better then when you became a Super Saiyan."
"You're saying he's better then me?" Vegita stopped fighting a second and stared at him as if he couldn't believe what Piccolo had said.
"By far," Piccolo smiled, "and so am I."
Flying
forward, Piccolo rammed him with a knee to the chest. Vegita lost the air in
him and fell from the sky, hitting his head and knocking him
out. Piccolo smiled at him and shook his head. Vegita didn't realize that a
true Super Saiyan needed to train a lot more than he did. Even a Super
Saiyan transformation couldn't beat someone who was as determined as he was if
you slacked off.
Creating a
hole in the ceiling and floating through it, Piccolo let for other parts of the
Afterlife. He hadn't killed Vegita, but the saiyan would be
needed later. Piccolo shook his head again. Here he was, playing his dangerous
game again. But that was okay, he enjoyed it.
Humming
softly to herself, Bulma washed another of the dishes and placed it on the
drying rack. After all the chaos involving those fighters
destroying the planet, things had finally quieted down. Just as a precaution,
she had moved to a different, more protected, location. A place
where she and her son could be safe. It was kind of odd, in a way; she, who had
no power, was the last of the survivors.
Bulma reached for another dish and began washing it.
"Hello, Bulma."
The dish
dropped and shattered on the floor. That voice, it couldn't be. Turning
fearfully, Bulma saw the shadowy figure standing in her
doorway. For a moment it seemed that it was impossible, but as the figure moved
into the light, she realized it was.
Ducking through the low doorway, Goku glanced at Bulma sadly.
"What are you doing here?" she managed to gasp out. He said nothing.
"How
did you find me?" she continued, desperate to fill the disturbing silence.
Goku smiled, though it was nothing compared to the joyful smile
he had always had in the past. She hated this smile worse than the one before.
"I have my ways. How have you been doing? Alive, I see."
"It isn't any of your business," Bulma fumed, having gotten over her momentary fear. "Now get out of my house. I hate you!"
"I was
hoping you wouldn't say that," Goku said, turning away slightly. Though
his voice was soft, Bulma found that she couldn't bring herself
to interrupt him. "Of course, I knew you hated me. But unlike the others,
I hadn't experienced it for myself. I guess that just shows how naive I
really am. I had hoped you weren't like the everyone else."
"I said get out!"
In the
past, when Bulma got angry, none defied her. Now, however, it seemed so
different to Goku. Instead of someone intimidating, he found
she reminded him more of a pouting child. Completing his turn and gazing at the
wall, Goku's gaze fell upon a picture. It was all of them, Master
Roshi, Krillin, Yamcha and the rest of the Z Fighters. He remembered that day,
so long ago. They had spent a long time trying to convince
Piccolo to join in, and he eventually had, standing at one side with his arms
crossed.
"You
were one of the first people I ever met," Goku said, completely ignoring
what she had said, "and the first that I really remember well. Can
you remember way back then? When we were all looking for the Dragonballs, so
you could wish for the perfect boyfriend?" Goku chuckled.
"How different things were then. I remember the 'evil' villains I fought
then. Emperor Pilaf, the Red Ribbon Army's goons."
He sensed a
vase being thrown at him and inclined his head just slightly. It careened past
him, striking the picture and shattering. Normally,
Goku would have thought little else of it. Bulma was inclined to throw things,
but this time the effect was astonishing. Either by chance or
something more dire, the vase had struck the picture, shattering the glass. Now
the picture appeared to be broken by several large cracks. How
fitting.
"Let's not throw anything else," he said, turning back to Bulma. "I'm trying to be civil about this."
"You..." Bulma hissed. Goku ignored the hatred.
"Yeah,
I know you hate me. You'll have to deal with me a while longer. Please, do a
bit of remembering, back when things were so much better.
Our first meeting with Master Roshi, all the adventures we got into."
"I
hate to burst your bubble," Bulma smirked nastily, "but things never
were 'so much better.' I allowed you to join me because I could use your
abilities. From the very beginning you were nothing but a tool."
"I
know," Goku glanced at her sadly. "I knew from the beginning. Amazing
what a person can refuse to see. You seem to actually be proud of
doing that."
"Yeah, tricking you so many years!"
"Ah
yes, you always were so good at manipulating those less intelligent than
you," Goku said. "It makes you feel better doesn't it?"
Something
about his words pierced Bulma, and she found herself dealing with, of all
things, a bit of shame.
"Stop
it!" A third party had entered. Nearly toddling in, a small boy rushed
toward Goku. It must be Trunks. Goku hadn't considered that the
boy would already be born. As the boy got closer, evidently attempted to attack
him, Goku easily wrapped a bit of ki around him, floating him
into the air where his legs spun uselessly.
"You got involved with Vegita, didn't you?" Goku asked. Bulma gasped.
"How... how could you possibly have known?"
"Again, I have my ways."
"Why are you here?"
"I
don't know," Goku said simply. "Nostalgia, perhaps. I suppose I was
really here to see if all this hate hadn't spread to you. But I guess I
already know that, don't I?"
"Yes,
you do," Bulma was fully angry again. "And I want you to get out of
my house! Right now! Do you understand me? If I ever see you
anywhere around here, or you do anything to my boy, I'll-"
"May I keep the picture?" Goku asked, unfazed by Bulma's onslaught. She blinked, her attack averted.
"Just get out."
Unhooking
the picture from its frame, Goku tucked it under his arm and walked from the
door, slowly vanishing into shadow. As soon as he
exited the house, he jumped into the sky and began flying. He didn't put up an
aura, so the biting wind stung his face. Maybe that was the
reason that tears were leaking from his eyes.
A good deal
of Earth by that point was uninhabited, after both the saiyans, then Trunks'
Alliance. Even before, its population was mostly
thickly concentrated in cities, not spread out across the globe. One didn't
have to go very far to find a place entirely vacant.
One such
place was a small forest on the outskirts of a destroyed city. At this time,
however, it was occupied. Occupied by one individual and
his thoughts. What might have been a lane for walking some time ago cut through
the forest, and down it the figure walked. His form was
slightly slumped, as if weighed down by far more than any one person should
ever have to face.
Goku ran a
hand through his hair and sighed heavily. Dead leaves fluttered around him,
making a rustling sound as he walked through them.
The trees had long since ceased being colorful; now they were merely a dull
brown. His orange gi stuck out far more than anything else in the
grove of trees. That was alright. It fit his mood at the moment.
It was
finally getting to him. The slow endless cycle of his life, with nothing
gained. Before, he had always had so many friends, so many
others. Now, he was alone. All of his friends were dead, but he wouldn't want
them back even if the Dragonaballs were still around. That hurt
worse than their deaths. Of course, a few were still alive, but it hardly
mattered. None of them wanted him, even less than the average human.
Loneliness
wasn't really a problem for him. He could have stood being a hermit for years.
But there was something different about this.
Somehow, knowing that everyone on the planet hated you made something horribly
different. That was it, he decided. Had he been a recluse by
choice, it would have been fine. After all, he had no real need for anyone
else. Still, when he didn't even have that option, it wore down on him.
More leaves
fell around him, and Goku glanced at them for a while. In a way, he bitterly
realized, they seemed so much like his life. Dead, moving
purposelessly through a meaningless existence. Crushing a leaf beneath his
foot, Goku glanced down at it. The broken fractions of it quivered
for a while, then were slowly blown away in the wind. How fragile. Just like
life. Everything could go from so good to so bad in such little time. It
took so little to end life, and so much to create. Part of him wondered how the
universe could even exist under such conditions.
He didn't
notice it, but his eyes glowed softly. Annoyed by the thoughts the leaves
provoked, Goku redirected the wind so the leaves didn't
come near him. At the moment, he just didn't want to see them. Instead, he
found his thoughts turning to the future.
Emptiness
was the word that came to mind. There was simply nothing in his future. Of
course, it seemed certain that he would have to protect
the Earth again. Some villain with insane amounts of power would come and try
to destroy the planet, for some unknown reason. Maybe Frieza
had a big brother who would want revenge or something of the sort.
Trunks had
mentioned something about androids. Hmm, that could mean either entirely
mechanical beings, or beings created partially from
humans. Who would do something like that? At the moment he couldn't think of anyone.
If Trunks spoke the truth, however, there would soon
be androids coming.
If there
was a way he could destroy them before they were created, that would solve his
problem before it began. Goku dismissed the idea
almost instantly. It was implausible, as he had no idea who created the
androids, much less where they were. In that case, he'd merely have to
wait. But he could do that. He had all the time in the world.
King Vegita
sighed and looked out on the world from his vantage point in the Afterlife.
Things had been getting interesting down on Earth,
especially after Frieza had been killed. Back on Vegita, some other foolish
King took over while he was up here. Vegita had killed him, ungrateful
boy.
He hissed,
letting air run through his teeth. Vegita had somehow become a Super Saiyan,
and his power had awed all the saiyans in the Afterlife
with him. But it was nothing to some sort of power and he had been killed. King
Vegita hadn't seen him yet, but he wanted to give him a piece of
his mind, now that both of them were dead. There was also a nagging feeling in
the back of his head that he knew who had killed him.
Just then
he felt a ki he knew all too well. Frieza was nearby. Flying up, he quickly
made his way to where he felt the ki. Frieza and his father,
King Cold, stood by a lake, both arguing about something. As soon as they saw
him come into hearing, they stopped and looked at him.
"How did you die?" King Vegita asked Frieza, landing before them. Frieza glared at him. It was obviously a touchy subject.
"Goku attacked me, and then that traitor Trunks finished me off."
"Kakkarrot?"
He was surprised, and for a second he couldn't control his shock. King Cold
just looked at him, slightly confused, but a crafty
look spread over Frieza's face.
"You know him?"
Turning away, King Vegita refused to speak, trying to keep away the questions.
"There's something you know that others don't, isn't there?" Frieza pried further, smirking at him.
"I know little, I merely heard of him."
"Sure."
"No, he was such a weak warrior, I had not thought he could defeat a fighter of your caliber."
"I've
been meaning to ask you." Frieza's look turned ugly. "Do you remember
so long ago when we met on your planet? What were you doing
there? I'd never seen you there before, and I still don't see any reason for
you to have been there."
Freezing,
King Vegita remained silent, refusing to say anything. Frieza sensed an instant
of panic behind his masked expression, and instantly
pounced on it.
"Would you feel more inclined to tell on the pain of death, perhaps?"
Just then a
green blur knocked both of them backward, and Piccolo stood there smirking at
both of them. Frieza turned to fight him, but was
surprised how much stronger the Namek seemed. King Vegita didn't even bother to
fight, seeing Frieza cowering slightly and trying to act as if
he wasn't.
"No unsanctioned fighting in this area," Piccolo said calmly. "Where's your sense of manners?"
Before they
could try to formulate a response, Piccolo picked up King Vegita by the scruff
of his armor and floated into the air again, carrying
him away.
"The next time you two try to cause trouble again, it's on your heads, understand?"
Watching
him fly away, Frieza carefully considered every small fragment of knowledge, every
expression of the King. There was something
going on, and he wanted to know what this was all about. Sitting down, his
argument forgotten, Frieza tried to puzzle out why King Vegita
would have been in the nurseries on that day.
Two years
seemed to go agonizingly slow for Goku, who continued his intensive training.
He almost killed himself several times, but every time
he recovered. At first he had used the ships' gravity machines, but they only
went up to 999, and after a while that didn't help him. Piccolo's
meditation training had been new, but after a while it just became part of his
routine. Still, when the years had passed, he found himself
wondering how they had gone so fast.
After a
while, he had scavenged a TV from one of the destroyed cities. He had built a
make-shift home in one of them, right in the center. With
any luck, no one would venture further into it than the outskirts. He didn't
know what city it was, but it was a big one. He hadn't ever seen the
whole thing, much less explored it. But he lived there, safe from any
interfering things, like people.
Using the
TV, he kept up to date on all of the events going on around him. There were
constant reports of a killer virus that was starting to wipe
out people all over the planet. After a year and a half, they announced the
beginning of the end for the virus- a cure had been found.
Goku had
actually laughed, and those were getting hard to come by, when he learned who
had found the cure. It was Bulma! He still smiled
when he thought of the odd irony: foiled by yourself! It took most of the rest
of the time to cure everyone sick and vaccinate everyone else, and
the disease claimed many more lives in that time. When everyone was immunized,
they announced the total death toll of the virus.
Figuring
quickly, Goku determined there was only 60% of the original population left,
even with all the Nameks coming to Earth. Quite a few
people had died, he realized, in all this time, and many more probably would as
well. Piccolo had made a comment about deaths long ago, now
Goku was beginning to understand what he had meant. With any luck, this was all
he had meant.
The city.
The very last bastion of humanity, against the tide of destruction. Of final
destruction. All of them went about their lives as normally
as possible. But each lived with a fear, and fear they never gave voice to. It
was odd, Goku thought; humanity had a tendency to regress to an
earlier time. If they never spoke of something, it didn't really exist. How
simply was the truth disguised.
Their world
was going. None of them wanted to admit it. First the saiyans, then Trunks'
alliance. A never ending cycle of destruction. But they
were the last ones, the only bit of humanity left.
Each tried
to escape into their lives, drown themselves in a plethora of unnecessary
activity. Because none of them wanted to admit that their
lives were empty. If they ever found themselves in a quiet moment, they might
start thinking about life. And if they did that, they'd realize how
empty they were.
Just one, Goku
considered. If he could get just one person to listen, to think about things.
Then maybe everything could change. Hate wouldn't
survive if people gave everything reasonable thought. At least, he hoped it
couldn't.
Wouldn't
that be grand? Goku chuckled at himself slightly. He gets to the ultimate
point, a human bared to the soul. And there, instead of a
pure being, he would find a solid core of hate. Or what if he found nothing at
all? What if he peeled back all the layers they formed around
themselves, all the actions they performed to impress others, and in the
center, found nothing.
Shaking his
head, Goku tried to get away from that type of thought. It couldn't possibly
help him. What kept him sane? One would think any
mind would crack under the depression. Then again, maybe he was already insane.
But what did it matter? If everyone else was sane, he was
fine being insane.
Without
giving it much thought, he drifted to the ground and wandered toward the city.
Subconsciously, he slipped into stealth mode. Yet
another thing he hadn't figured out yet. He barely knew how to do it, much less
why he could. If anyone watching him concentrated, they could
have seen a ripple glide across the ground, nothing more. Of course, if anyone
had skill sensing ki, it was all useless. Somehow, he didn't
imagine he was in any danger.
Entering
the city, he drifted a few meters into the air so as not to run into anyone.
People passed by, going about their daily lives. Their tiny,
insignificant lives. Trying to find meaning. A crazy driver in an air car
careened toward him, Goku wove to the side easily and drifted on. Not his
problem. Let it go.
Something
made him look back. Maybe a throwback to his superhero days. Or perhaps it was
just something interesting. Whatever the reason,
it changed everything. The air car struck the ground again, the anti-gravity
generator extremely low. It slid down the street only a few inches off
the ground. Toward a small child playing in the middle.
100 feet. The kid began to rush to the side.
75 feet. He dropped his ball, and moved back to pick it up.
50 feet. For a moment he hesitated, ball in hand, gazing at the car.
25 feet. Like a deer in headlights, he failed to move.
20 feet. The driver didn't even see him, wasn't even going for the brakes.
15 feet. He finally saw, and frantically braked. It was too close.
10 feet. The car's generator failed, the car began to skid inexorably forward.
5 feet. Sparks from the pavement struck the little kid, he began to cry out.
2 feet. Goku gazed down at the scene, his face blank.
1 foot.
The air car
smashed through the air, sending pavement flying into the nearby buildings. On
the side of the street, Goku stood up again. He set
down the small child, who was beginning to squirm. Across the street, the
driver dragged himself to a halt. Police sirens could be heard in the
distance.
He was
crying. Goku looked down at the kid, who was sitting in the grass below him.
Holding his slightly burnt arms, but crying over the loss of
his ball. The plastic had been crushed into a flat sphere. For a second time
seemed frozen, as Goku realized how familiar this seemed.
Of course,
children could be forgiven. He could not have known that in comparison to his
life, the ball was such a small thing. But everyone
else should have known. They had no excuse. That was humanity, crying over
their crushed ball.
Angrily
striking out at the nearest object, the child flung a balled fist at him. Goku
gently caught the child's hand. Holding it a second, Goku did
nothing as they both watched energy flow from one to the other. Within seconds,
the burns on the child's arms disappeared. He gazed at them
in wonder, no longer angry.
Reaching
out with his ki, Goku pulled the flattened ball over to him. Forcing air into
the ball, Goku inflated it once again, then handed it back to
the child. He took the ball, still awed. Then he giggled, the young laugh that
only children could do. It had been a long time, Goku realized.
Ages since he had heard that laugh.
"Stay away from him!"
Glancing
up, Goku saw a woman running his direction. A mother. Her face was filled with
anger. This was the last thing he needed. She'd attack
him, if she thought it was necessary.
Who was he
kidding? She was human. She'd think it was necessary. The police vehicles were
coming around the corner. In seconds a circle had
formed around for him. Lights blared, sirens wailed, a voice on a megaphone
shouted for him to put his hands up, screams were heard. All of it
seemed distant to Goku, who didn't move, a sad smile fixed on his face.
Someone
pulled the child away, he looked up in surprise. His happiness was gone.
Raising two fingers to his forehead, Goku glanced at the
assembled policemen once, then vanished completely.
