Since I was a meanie little author that stabbed her dear readers with the end of that last chapter, here you go the next one in less than a month. And the biggest one to date, if I'm not mistaken! Who loves you, huh? This gal, right here. :D
But come on, guys, did you really think I'd end things up like that? Oh, ye of little faith… :P There's still SO much more to come, you don't even…. xD
I love me some evil cliffys, though… Just saying. xD
Anyway, thank you kalebxdd for your help.
Enjoy!
The sound was enchanting. A rumbling in the distance, faint and mellow, rippling across the skies as if laying claim to the clouds beneath them. Threads of silver scattered aimlessly on occasion, stitching the dark-gray horizon with flashes of white as if giving it life, though just for a moment. A gift from Mother Nature, teasing the heavens for their leisure with the storms of Autumn. It was that time of the year.
"Peaceful, isn't it?" Dende asked, standing to his side in the numbed silence of the back terrace. "These first Fall rains always produce the most beautiful thunderstorms."
"Indeed," Piccolo responded. Without a doubt, the roars of early-September had always been his favorites, although much more stunning when experienced from beneath. It seemed that the same predilection had sprung on the young guardian as well, though he remembered a time in which the Namekian infant would cower behind Mr. Popo at the first signs of the phenomenon. Their home planet wouldn't grace them with the same view, as he recalled, so it was understandable. Either way, that child was long gone, replaced by a tall young man - one he'd taken pride in, even if it wasn't his place to do so. The sapling had rooted his position in the Heavenly Realm with honour worthy of the finest warriors, a bigger affair than most considering his strength was not of the physical kind.
Such a nervous little thing when Goku beamed him over from Namek. Admittedly, he'd had his doubts about the boy, but… it had indeed been a pleasure to watch him grow into the wise sage of today. The guardian of Earth.
He was a sucker for kids, apparently. Gohan, Dende. And even Mia, and Trunks, and little Goten. Hopefully they'll never realize it; the blackmailing wrote itself, damn brats.
And now he was thinking of Gohan yet again, comparing storms to troubled minds and sunken spirits, worries that would never leave him but that he'd try to push aside from time to time. It was just too heavy on him to see his friend drained of himself in such a manner, but most of all, it was too hard to recognize a hurt that came from inside instead of out. He could deal with effeminate lizards and giant grasshoppers, but the enemies from within were way out of his league, not to mention out of his comfort zone. Gohan had never needed his words - a nod or a grunt had always sufficed - but sometimes he wished for them anyway, ever since his father was forced to abandon the role of caregiver for the mind. And for the heart.
The right ones would never come, though, so he did what he could, not one to stay idle while the planets aligned themselves into a better position. He watched over, he stood guard, a promise unspoken made to a friend eight long years ago. One he'd kept since much earlier than that; one he'd keep until the very end.
Goku would never ask. Piccolo would never offer. It was how it was and they both knew it, something worth protecting. If only he could protect him better…
"Can I offer you some tea?" the quaint voice of Mr. Popo sung from behind them. "I've just made a kettle of lemongrass." Refreshing and zesty. Maybe he'd take a cup.
"Thank you, Mr. Popo," Dende said politely, accompanying the genie to the side with the slow pace of an old monk. The night induced such a feeling, a relaxation worthy of the best cascading waterfalls on this beautiful planet, but it had all gone with the wind now, as it always would. Hopes of better days and easier burdens would always come with the image of his friend nowadays, right along with the painful reminder of his inability to fast forward to that particular moment in time when he'd see the young Saiyan's face brighten up once more. A true smile, like when he was a boy.
It became hard to wait for such a moment, and even harder to trust it actually existed down the line.
Following the duo, he tried not to sigh while mourning times of evildoing and world-domination. A simpler past when the objective was clear and the path untroubled, even if… if… Yes, it was wrong and not to be repeated. That night in the forest with the puny little human Gohan had brought along had simply been a bonus for good behaviour. But man, did he relish in those screams. At least he'd managed to lend a hand on that occasion, since he was as useful as a doorknob on the wall for all the rest.
He was getting too old for these worries, but alas he'd never get too old for Gohan, would he? That tea would do him some good, surely, and a peek at his energy would reassure… What?
His cape swooshed behind him with the harsh turn, a rush inside and past the other two only contained by the confusion of what he was sensing. How could it be so close? And so…? What'd happened?
"Piccolo?" Dende asked from behind his shoulder. He didn't stop but the guardian was hot on his tail, his stick clicking occasionally against the floor and echoing through the stony walls of the main passageway. "What's the matter? Is there something...?" The other saved his words when they reached the front entrance, "the matter" obvious and clear now, sitting hunched in the distance. "Is that…?"
"It's Gohan." Though only in body, his spirit and Ki too altered to ever be considered his own. It was spiking uncontrollably, however not to high volumes, panic but no urgence, damage but no threat. Dammit… another enemy of his he couldn't just blast to Other World.
"It's pouring down below," Mr. Popo intervened. "He must be soaking from the flight."
"Yes, we should bring him inside," Dende added.
"No. Leave him be."
"But, Piccolo, he's…" The guardian hesitated, looking ahead to the brim of the lookout. "He's not okay." A severe understatement, if not stupidly obvious. Gohan would only come here on one occasion per year, one single day, and only because it was the only place where he'd know to be completely safe - from others and from himself. Guarded from prying eyes and endearing yet dumb questions regarding his well-being, while still not being completely left alone with his ghosts.
Cell had wounded him, jagged an imposing shadow over his spirit over the years, though not due to physical marring or pride lost, but as a catalyst of his father's absence. But this last year… this one had been different still, as proven by his surprising nonattendance up there, on the anniversary of the tragedy. Better he'd dare say, all the way up to a month or so ago, when things just seemed to have gotten… thicker, rougher, his energy tense and hefty. It had all finally collapsed under the pressure.
"Go inside," Piccolo ordered, words softened by the guilt of powerlessness. He walked down the steps and over to where the dark silhouette of his former student sat, hanging hopelessly over the edge, cross-legged, cross-armed. The same setup on a different day.
His next step was halted by a startle. Try as he might to keep it down, Gohan would know his quiet sobs would never be low enough for Namekian ears. Crying was new; or old and forgotten, rather. He pushed through, though a little slower.
"You can go inside," Gohan whispered just loud enough. His voice trembled and cracked. "I'll be okay."
You haven't been okay in eight years, my friend. He took the last few steps, every sniff stinging him like a dagger. There was little he could do, but he'd manage at least this. Leaning down, his hand covered the other's right shoulder, trying not to hesitate on the contact. Gohan cringed under his touch, hiding his face as thoroughly as possible, but as foreseen by Mr. Popo, his clothes were all wet and clinging to his skin. The kid would deny going inside to keep warm, so this would have to do, this invasion of his pain necessary. Effortlessly, he materialized a blanket over the other's back.
A minute nod said "thank you". It was the least he could do.
Piccolo went back about halfway, enabling that infernal anguish to keep tearing at a Saiyan's pride without the added shame of his presence. He took a seat next to the palm tree farthest from his pupil and took his stance for meditative training - as if he'd ever manage it today; that sound would haunt him from the other side of the world.
It'd been so long since he'd last heard it, suffocated against a pillow from inside the kid's bedroom at Mt. Paozu. Those times were long gone but so vivid in his mind. Three months he'd kept watch on the trees surrounding the dwelling, leaving only when logic excused him with the argument that Gohan had grown out of the pain, yet knowing full well he'd simply grown around it, containing it and compressing it into somewhere out of reach. He should've stayed longer… done something.
Gohan rustled in front of him; he slitted an eye. Lying down on his side now, curled up into a ball under the blanket, the gentle quake of his shoulders was even more evident, the sound muffled, probably against his hand. His eye closed shut again, harder, canines prickling flesh from the added pressure of his jaw.
The pride of a warrior would still bellow at full force how crying was beneath him, a weakness of the heart, but that would be extremely hypocritical, wouldn't it? Not to mention untrue. He had cried once. Vegeta had cried multiple times, that over-emotional bastard. Goku never had but only because he was even more masterful at hiding himself than he was at fighting - which spoke for itself. And then there was Gohan, the less weak of them all, the strongest being in the universe diminished into nothing more than a little kid's whimpers. What amazing force could've managed such a feat…? Or maybe it had only delivered the last blow. A cruel blow.
"Sometimes life is cruel," he'd told him once. What was he, four? Maybe five. He didn't care to ask at the time, but doing the math it seemed like an accurate enough number. "Necessary brutality" was the present excuse, what he told himself when thinking back at what he'd put the kid through. Back then it was just plain "brutality", hardship to harden the body and the mind. It'd worked for him. And it'd worked for the boy too, in retrospect.
Such a spoiled little brat… his mother's doing, no doubt about it. If he'd had more time, Gohan would've spent the whole year on his own instead of the allotted six months, just so the woman's pampering wouldn't put all his hard work to waste, but it was a good decision on his part in the end. As it turned out, Gohan's Saiyan blood ran as fast as his father's, eager to fight and be stronger, though solely for the benefit of his protective instinct. It had always been the impetus behind the boy's strength, as the Namekian came to realize. One among many, the true strength behind a full heart was a lesson that'd never leave him. And to think the old Piccolo saw himself as the sensei in their relationship… To this day, it was still more the other way around.
He'd like to think he'd still be as strict a teacher nowadays, but… that was before he'd cried like an infant too, so who knew? And who cared, anyway? Even if he'd grown soft and senile, Gohan was strong. The kid had lived through enough terrors to crack the most valiant of men - Human, Saiyan, Namekian - always pushing forward with courage and determination. If Gohan was crying, then it was brave to cry in his book.
Crying was for the strong too, they were just able to take a little more torment before the snap. Yeah, that's it. He repeated the sentence over and over in his head to memorize it. Those might just be the words; hopefully they would help Gohan in any small way, make the boy's pain a little more tolerable. For both of them.
His chest didn't burn this way when the kid was just… well, a kid. Maybe because he wasn't one anymore. That window had been sealed shut long ago, way too soon.
Gohan's energy grew peaceful after a gruesomely slow hour. Luckily, he'd tired himself out, which accommodated for an uneventful night's sleep, even though of no longer than four or five more. The first rays of sunlight sat him up, his energy tensing instantly with the acknowledgement of his twisted emotions. In a minute he stood, and then walked closer to the Namekian, eyeing his listless feet as they moved. It was the first time he'd managed to take a look at the kid's face and… He clenched his fists to feel the twinge of nails against flesh, a gesture for domination over the strain at his throat. A few steps apart, he stood too.
The other stopped an arm away, extending the blanket. "Thank you," he croaked quietly.
Piccolo took the thing, looking into bloodshot eyes that wouldn't look back. "Stay for breakfast." If not only for the comfort of food, he'd hate to see the kid leave in such a state.
The response came after a second or two, but not in consideration on the offer. The trembling chin and the look astray said otherwise, a fight with his demons for control over himself. "I'm not really hungry." He wouldn't.
Emotions were complicated enough to bear, pathetic displays of inferior beings and his old age, but Gohan's were different. Not pathetic, not inferior. The source of his power, but that was exactly the problem. If his potential was unlimited, logic foretold that it would also be unmanageable. How could one control the uncontrollable? One. One person alone.
All former speeches of strength and valor were grinded to dust just as the kid turned to leave. "Hang in there"? Goku's ever prefered, "You've got this"? None would be sufficient, and his insides were already burning ferociously enough without the dull commonplaces. Gohan didn't need the added confusion of atypical behaviours, so he kept it in character, his green hand holding the other's shoulder. Silently. The only pep-talk he'd ever needed from his old sensei.
Gohan stopped, every muscle hardened under his master's grip. He faced even further the other way, bloated eyes pressed shut, lips bitten for stability. It took a moment and a deep breath, but he managed to buy himself some composure - a notable accomplishment from a strength he hadn't taught. His hand trembled up to cover the Namekian's, and with nothing else, he walked away, slowly, levitating off the edge with no sense of hurry. Who would rush into hell, anyway?
Life had nothing else to offer its saviour today - or tomorrow, or next week. Curse it… curse all things living.
They didn't deserve him.
Beep! Beep! Beep!
Sharpner groaned loudly, smacking the offending device with the justified third blow of the morning. It might as well be blaring mocks and curses instead of annoying beeps to mark the hour, but one could only postpone getting up for so long, he guessed. The first day was always the hardest, and God knew how hard all the other ones usually were on him.
He was probably gonna be late already, but it wouldn't haste his movements, legitimizing the delay with the unspoken lenience given to students on the first class of an early morning - one he'd just made up in his head but felt was adequate and deserving. If he was gonna be robbed of the delicious heat of his bed on such a cold day - a Monday! - then his body was going on strike for the benefits cut. It was inhumane!
With a groan-like yawn, Sharpner sat up on the edge his oh-so-comfy bed, slapping his cheeks and rubbing his eyes for the added fragment of energy that would get things going, but he turned out to not be needing it in the end. Eyeing the untampered bed and its untouched linens in front of him, the curiosity instantly woke him up, worry sealing the deal with Erasa's words of ware from last night.
With that look in his eyes, things won't end well. Take care of Gohan.
Apparently, G had gone over to the girls' just as Erasa was leaving to pick him up from the bus station. His girlfriend's face was fast on the trigger, clenching his gut instantly upon arrival with its uncharacteristic gloominess, her explanation of the previous events only deepening the feeling ten-fold. That tension she'd described on their friend's whole posture and expression could only mean serious business, which in the world those two lived in added up to either something really good or something viciously bad. Experience couldn't foretell the outcome, unfortunately, since Gohan and Videl had always been able to walk the relationship tightrope without ever falling off. Hopefully this hadn't been it, at last.
He wanted to have waited for his friend to come back to their room - he'd tried his mightiest - but his eyelids were just too heavy, sleep just too overbearing to keep him up for more than a few minutes. Just as well, since obviously G had decided to spend the night elsewhere. Maybe he'd spent it with Videl, after all? … Nah, Erasa was normally right about these things; if she'd felt things wouldn't be ending well... He checked his phone for any extra intel on the situation, wincing at the unread text from his girlfriend, half an hour or so after he'd gotten to his room yesterday. "Vi's a mess…," it stated, solely.
Damn… Where's Gohan, then?
Immediately, he speed-dialed for his friend's number but it went directly to voice-mail, as expected. Son of a bitch went to deal with things solo yet again. Why, godammit? Why did that head of his see only black and doom whenever things got intense? The guy almost made Sharpner look like the sane, adult one. How crazy was that?
Checking the hour, he stood up to get ready for school, all steps done and accounted for in record time, grabbing the bent notepad from last year and tucking it into the back pocket of his blue jeans - he'd mooch some pretty girl for a pen later. This first class was too important, he concluded as he headed out, closing the door shut behind him, but maybe he could skip the one after that and go look for...
"G?"
Gohan was exiting the elevator, striding past him with the simple acknowledgement of a straightened-up palm to account for his silence. Was it a "hi" or a "leave me alone", though? Probably both, but that sullen look on his face, not to mention the way he'd refused eye contact, was tilting the balance over to the latter. Something had indeed gone horribly wrong, since it was obvious the guy had been crying, something the blond had only seen once before in the whole year they've known each other, and he didn't really want to think back at that particular night. His roommate's bloody shirt would haunt him forever...
With urgence and a knotted stomach, he followed the guy back to their room. "Are you okay?" he asked just for the sake of asking. Or just for the try at getting an answer, rather.
"Super," Gohan spoke quietly as they entered. His voice was coarse and heavy.
"I know you went over there last night. Do you want to talk about-?"
The bathroom's door closed shut between them, the shower's white noise coming through right after. A knuckle tapped on the wood. "Don't you have class?" he pressed on through the barrier but there was no response - surely the guy had heard him in there.
Sharpner then stepped over to his roommate's desk, checking the sheet Gohan would normally pin on the wall with his weekly schedule, tests and all that overly-organized crap. He'd already missed his first appointment, and the second one was most likely following the same path. Irrelevant if it regarded himself, but not nerdy little Gohan and his immaculate punctuality - something he'd always teased his friend about. His eyelids dropped for a moment, closing in mourning of the obvious severity of the situation. Not much would make Gohan disregard his geekiness...
After a sigh, he approached the door and gave it another knock. "Listen up. I'm gonna come back in an hour. If you're not either here or in class, I will hunt you down and beat the crap out of you, you hear me?" Trying to toughen up his act with all the worry drenching him cold was tall order, but hopefully he'd managed, since he'd profusely bled out his luck with "friendly and mellow" before, and it'd been the same as talking to a brick wall. Or a damn door! The irony wasn't amusing. "We're gonna talk about this. We're gonna figure this out, okay?"
No answer.
"Please, G. You don't have to go through this alone." He waited a moment but ultimately knew nothing would come from the other side. "I'll see you in a bit." Stubborn piece of shit… those two were made for each other.
Erasa had been spot-on, as always: things hadn't ended well last night. At all. Did Videl freak out because the guy turned out to be able to fly? What else would he have gone there to talk about, all grim and resolute? Okay, so it was really strange and mind boggling, and he did almost crap his pants when he first saw it happening but… it wasn't that big of a deal that would automatically erase all the good Gohan had brought to their little group. To Videl, especially.
Hopefully things were still salvageable. Hopefully this was just a hiccup, but the damage had already been done, whatever it was. Like a slingshot, Gohan was being tossed back to whichever hellish pit he'd been in a year ago. Dammit.
He could hear those walls re-erecting themselves…
Not even the warm milk could help her out this time. Her go-to comfort-in-a-cup was only serving as a heat source for her chilly hands through the ceramic. That's something, she guessed.
Right when she thought things were all lined up for a fairytale ending, this happened. Videl and her handsome prince, living happily ever-after… a distant dream, it seemed, even if only of a week ago. Last Friday night had been really different from this one, that's for sure.
Last Friday night, her warm milk had been wonderful and sweet, jellying her bones into an elated mess with the image of the two of them, kissing on that very chair that now stood cold and vacant in front of her. This time around, she could only bathe in the silence, leaning back onto the kitchen counter while numb out of her mind. What'd happened? What could Gohan have said to Videl to make her feel so… so lost?
And why couldn't her friend confide those words to her? Nothing had ever been so excruciatingly life-changing that Videl would simply refuse to talk about it. Then again, Vi wouldn't say much, nowadays. Nada, ever, all cooped up in that head of hers.
A sigh escaped her. That'd been happening a whole lot this past week.
Suddenly, she heard a jingle outside, keys clinking against each other. The door opened a moment later and her smile sprung automatically. "Hey, Honey," she said softly. Now there was a face she'd been begging to see all day, and a hug from those super-strong arms would definitely give her the moment of peace she so craved.
"Hey, Babe," Sharp responded tiredly, closing the door behind him. He didn't even smile. "I've had it with this. I'm done."
Her heart sunk. W-What? Erasa slowly straightened herself up, discarding the cup to the side. "D-Done? With… With us?"
His eyebrows scrunched together immediately. "What? No!" He rushed over, his hands gentle but locked on her arms. "I'm mad crazy about you. Don't even think that."
God, what a relief… If they'd break up now, on top of everything else… If they'd break up ever, really. She smiled, looking up to his eyes, relishing in his gorgeous face as he returned the same gesture. "I love you," she told him.
"I love you too, Bunny." It made her giggle and hug him tightly, her cheek pressed as far as it would go onto his chest. That nickname was somewhat new but she was starting to love it. Even more so since it was strictly private, a thing of their own that no one else knew about. She loved this man so, so much. Videl deserved this same feeling, this warmth in her belly. She deserved it with no strings attached and no secrets threatening its foundations. Poor, Vi...
"I meant I'm done with those two," Sharpner went on to say. They disconnected and met eyes again, seriousness having taken his chocolate ones once more. "I have to talk to her. This can't go on." And with that he strode over to Videl's door.
"No, wait," Erasa urged while following him. "She's been really down. I don't want to make it worse."
Sharpner delayed his entrance but only to make his point. "She's as stubborn as he is. They'll depress themselves to death before either of them steps up to resolve this shit."
"Then let me talk to her."
"You've tried already. This whole week you've been trying."
"But…"
"No. You're too soft on her, so just let me handle it." Too soft…? Maybe, yeah, but Vi just looked so wounded and discouraged. Like a tiny little birdy that'd fell off its nest. Okay, so hugging it out wasn't doing the trick but would tough love be any better, though? "Vi?" Sharp knocked on the door. "I'm coming in, so you better be decent."
A second was allowed and then he just waltzed in there. Vi was indeed decent, sitting on her bed in her casual stay-at-home attire, knees bent up and hugging a pillow while her head rested against the wall. She was gnawing at her nails, completely unfazed - or better yet, unaware of the commotion. "Vi?" Erasa called as well to get the other's attention. It did the trick since she looked over, ugly half-circles darkening the skin under her shiny blue eyes.
Wasting no time, Sharpner sat down on the bed, facing their friend. "You have to end this, Videl," he said. "I promised I wouldn't meddle and that I'd let things roll on their own pace, but enough is enough." Videl looked away again so he scooted closer to her, forcing his presence into her line of sight. "He's a wreck." That word alone made her press her eyes shut. "He's been missing all sorts of classes, and he didn't even try to go to football practice. I had to go talk to coach Leon to give him a break, 'cause you know he doesn't tolerate absences. Look at me!"
Erasa could feel a tear roll down her cheek at the sight of her usually rock-solid best friend tremble as a leaf to abide by the order. It hurt so much to see Vi cornered up and strained like that, but maybe Sharp was right. Maybe she did need this push to snap out of it.
Nothing Gohan could've told her would've been worthy of such a level of despair. Well, maybe if he'd said he wanted to break things up, but no way in hell would the guy have even considered that by his own accord. And, albeit extremely sad, Videl seemed to be more in thought over the course of this last week than particularly heart-crushed. That would've involved a greater deal of merciless crying than staring blankly onto the wall, she supposed.
Admittedly, the blonde had never been too perceptive of these things, but her friend was like a second "her". They've known each other for ages! Videl's face clearly spelt "dilemma", just as Gohan's had for almost as long as they've met him. Goodness, what in the world could be so difficult to figure out? What could've put up this many obstacles between them?
"Vi, he's not sleeping," Sharp went on to say. "He's barely eating anything. He's closing himself up, just like when we first met him but a hundred times worse, and today, he spent basically all day in bed. He only got up because he had a bus to catch to spend the weekend at home."
"Things can't end up like this, Vi," Erasa decided to add, climbing into bed with them and taking her friend's icy hand. "Whatever he told you, it can't be that bad. This is Gohan we're talking about."
The other sniffled, a thread of strength making her chin tilt up. "It's not him," Videl said quietly. "It's me. I don't deserve him."
"You've got to be kidding me, Videl," Sharpner almost barked at her. "He's absolutely crazy about you! He'd do any fucking thing for you, and you're telling me you're putting him through this shit because he's too good for you?"
"Sharp…" Erasa tried to calm him down, a hand caressing his shoulder blade. Sharpner had such a huge protective instinct, she came to realize, mostly regarding her, but also when it came to their friends. It got almost as big as that beautiful heart he tried to make believe was all hard and badass when in fact belonged to a big softy. Being the younger of his family, he kind of took on the role of Gohan's big brother ever since they've been roomed together, and she knew of the scolding he'd given the guy about leaving Videl like that during the holidays, too… Oh, God, she'd gotten so much better since then. Why did it all have to collapse like this again?
Erasa looked back at her best friend, trying to subdue her anxiety. They had to get to the bottom of this. They just had to. "Is this because of him being a prince?" she asked, since not much else would make sense. "'Cause you're almost like a princess too, ya know? Your father's-"
"Stop it, E," Videl interrupted, a shaky palm up to sign off on the words. "Don't even…" She bit her lip but didn't manage to suppress the crying. That hand covered her mouth now, tears pouring down in rivers.
"Oh, Vi…"
"Can you honestly let things go out like this?" Sharp continued to ask, bypassing the palpable hurt that was surely bothering him just as much as her. "After all you guys have been through? 'Cause the Videl I know wouldn't allow this to end just because it became difficult, or just because the future is all foggy or weird." Videl looked back at him, rubbing her face clean, though her chin still quivered. "This is not you. Where in hell did you leave your damn courage?"
They stared at each other, silently. Please, let his words seep into that head of hers. Maybe Gohan and Vi weren't meant to be together after all - which she very much doubted - but they did so much good to each other all the same. They seemed so complete and satisfied with each other's presences alone, they at least had to remain friends. Good friends. For all their sanities. "I'm just so messed up," Vi finally said. "I can't even think straight."
"I hear ya, but you know who'd be able to clear up all that mess?" Sharp asked, much softer than before - fatherly she'd say - a tiny little smile curving those stunning lips.
Vi smiled back and then released a rickety sigh. Her tears were rubbed dry. "Where is he?"
"At the bus station," he answered, and then checked his wristwatch. "For another ten or fifteen minutes, at least."
"You can always call him," Erasa suggested. "Ten or fifteen minutes might not be very much to talk things through."
"It's enough for now," Vi said, gathering herself. She slid to the edge of the bed and got up, both blonds following suit while she forced her feet into her sneakers. "Can I borrow your car?" she asked then. Did she mean hers or Sharpner's?
"I'll take you there," Sharp told her. "You're in no condition to drive." He turned around to meet his girlfriend and leaned in for a peck on the lips, which she gladly returned. "We'll be right back."
Erasa nodded, following them to the front door. If she hadn't been in her PJs and robe she'd join them on the trip, but the way she got all anxious and overwhelmed with these things could only make things worse for Videl, anyway. The girl's insides would be revolving around themselves even more violently than the blonde's, for sure, so it was for the best.
Hopefully they wouldn't be too long. Hopefully things would be resolved or at least better. Oh, pretty please, just a little bit better.
Dear Lord, the expectation was making her sick.
"Do you want me to come with you?" Sharpner asked as the hatchback came to a stop.
Videl smiled politely. "No, you've done enough already. Thank you." This week had been so hard on her, time just trotted along unattended. It had never been her intention to cause Gohan such harm - not eating? not sleeping? - but then again, she'd never intended to react in such a way either. It just all poured down on her so fast, facts and images flooding her brain with such brutality she wondered how in the world hadn't her consciousness been smacked right along with her strenght. She was prepared for the worst from him - she could've handled the worst - but he got her this instead.
Of all the people in the world, how could she have guessed he was the one?
"Please, just… put him out of his misery, okay? One way or another," her friend told her through the worried curve of his eyebrows. Gohan was so lucky to have him. "I can't stand seeing him like that."
"I know. I will."
"Can I just ask…?" he added, hesitating. "Is all of this because he knows how to fly?"
What? How could he...? Had he also been told of Gohan's… special abilities? "Y-You know of his…?"
"I saw him take flight the night you were attacked," Sharp explained, "and he confirmed it to me last week after he came back. Though we haven't talked about it since then."
"Oh." So he didn't know everything. She couldn't tell him, though, it wasn't her place to do so.
"He's still Gohan. You know that, right?"
"I do." The half-alien fighter turned human-torch was still their Gohan, indeed. "I should go. Don't want to miss him."
"Yeah. I'll wait here, okay?"
A single nod responded as she exited the car, in no hurries since the words she wanted to give him still remained to be elected. What could she say? Apologies would never be enough to erase the scars and the damage, not to mention what a mockery they would sound after all this time had passed. All that pain he must've been feeling, all that hurt and all that struggle… To think she'd had this much of a part in it… Her hands had been the ones casting a shade on his heart. The darkness had been her doing, his innocence her theft. How could she ever make up for such heinous crimes?
She didn't deserve what was left of him.
The bus station felt dark and eerie as she entered, lights dimmed and shadows moving in the corners. All the times she'd came here before to drop Gohan off had never struck her with such morbid murkiness, but she guessed it was mainly a reflection of her mood more than anything else. Gohan always took the last bus of the evening, so the place would always look this "turned off". With the next corner, her feet turned cement by the sight of him, just a few steps away, heartbeats palpitating in her throat and pumping up the tears she swore wouldn't shed when this time were to come. He seemed so… broken.
Looking down at a dirty floor he was definitely not seeing, even from this distance she could make out the bags under his eyes. His hair was even more crazy than its usual spiky mess, but this time it came from being unkempt, she reckoned - he'd always had such beautiful hair. A hand gripped the black duffle-bag he'd always carry on these trips, dangling it over his shoulder, while his teeth chewed persistently at his lower lip. Thinking of everything and nothing, experience told her. His lip for her nails, and this place for her bedroom, the image was exactly the same, so surely the numbness was too.
A second later, an intercom crackled to life, announcing the words "East District" from within the otherwise intelligible mess she'd never been able to discern, hard as she'd try. Gohan began to move, lazily checking out the solitary bus to his side first and then the rest of his surroundings.
And then her.
He stopped everything, his lips gapped. Expectation was fast to take over the surprise in his eyes as he turned around fully to meet her, his bag carefully driven down to his feet. Her heart thumped so loud, so fast. His face was everything she'd needed this past week but the last she'd bare to see. She'd never have anything worthy of telling him. Not now nor ever. Nothing of hers was worthy.
But he still needed this.
Nervous out of her mind, she counted the steps to him, concentrating on the floor ahead because his eyes would be too much, too gorgeous and sweet. One step, two, three, and then four. The metal caged in her hand had long lost its cold touch, heated under her intense grip. Still, she gripped it tighter. She let out a breath and looked up, meeting his confusion while taking his hand and bringing it up between them.
This gesture needed no words. The key to their home was still his to have. She placed it in his palm and curled his fingers around it.
Gohan knew automatically what it was, pressing his eyes shut and bringing his face down to meet the free hand that flew to cover them. "Don't cry," she told him gently, trying to follow her own request while not able to deny a touch at his trembling jaw. "Our home will always be yours too."
"You don't have to do this," he half-whispered, rubbing his eyes of their tears, though the shine didn't leave. "I understand if you're scared of what I am."
Scared? Her eyebrows curved down, now the sole proprietors of all the confusion. "I'm not scared of you."
Gohan stilled, staring right into her. If "unbelieving" could have a face… "You… You aren't?"
Did he really think that? Urgent hands took his cheeks, thumbs caressing their skin through the dampness and the flush. "Gohan, you'd never hurt me," she told him solemnly. It was her core belief, her true faith. If all else went wrong with the world, this would be the one thing she'd never doubt. He closed his eyes and shook his head, telling her "no, he wouldn't" with its movement, though she'd never need the confirmation. Had he been…? All this week? No!
"It just all clicked within a second," she rushed to explain, looking away in shame while the words flew out of her uncontrollably. Every thread of that concept had to be erased from his head. How could she had let him believe it held any truth? "My dad taped the fight, and they sent him a copy of the unaired footage they'd managed to recover from the camera. I've watched everything, over and over when I was a kid, because I thought it was so cool that there was a boy my age actually fighting Cell with my dad." With my dad… How could she have known? She looked up, her voice cracked. "It was you wasn't it? That boy?"
It took a second of staring but he didn't hesitate to say, "Yes." His eyes were wet to the brim.
"Your hair was already blond, but there was another guy there that changed just like you did, right when those mini-Cells started attacking. Black hair to golden, and with the glow around him. The first guy to get there after my dad."
Gohan nodded. "Vegeta. Trunks' father."
Curiosity took over for a moment, bypassing all the anxiety that'd been twisting her gut. "Like the planet? Where the Saiyans lived?"
It made him chuckle, the movement letting out a tear that fell through his cheek. "He's our Prince, apparently. The planet was named after his father, just like himself."
Even beneath such reddened eyes, with such heavy tears running down their faces, and even if so many question marks still hovered around them, that smile was still the most stunning thing she'd ever laid eyes on. It was everything right now. "I have so many questions," she went on to say. Gohan simply nodded. "But right now… I have only one."
"Anything," he immediately said. "I'm done with secrets. I want you to know everything."
Did she, though? Did she want to know everything? About him, yes, but... one did not always want what they needed. And she did need to know this. "Was it really my dad?"
He pressed his lips and sunk his eyebrows. After a moment, he responded silently, shaking his head from side to side.
"Was it you?"
A nod, tiny as if guilty or ashamed, but that load should be hers to carry, not his. It made her look away. It made her chin start to tremble violently, her cheeks incredibly hot and swollen. How could Daddy…? "It's all been a lie. All that we have… it's supposed to be yours."
He grabbed her by the shoulders. "No, Vi. Your dad did me a favour."
A favour? She couldn't help but snort at that. How could he defend the guy that'd robbed him of his fate?
"You know me," he continued. "I could never live with all that attention, ever. If they started digging stuff up about me, about my abilities… Me, my family, we'd never have peace."
"But he lied, Gohan. He lied to everybody. And if that wasn't enough, he diminished all those who were there that day. Your friends. That guy Yamcha was there too, wasn't he? And your father? He was the one who fought first."
Gohan nodded once more.
"They called him a trickster," she almost yelled through the tears. "He died there, and my dad… He made him seem like a nobody. An ignorant hick from the woods." People would belittle the blond guy with the funny hair for years after the games, calling him "an insult to the art" because all he'd done was get in the way of the Champ, throwing around "cheap fireworks" to upstage him and have his five minutes of fame.
And in the meantime, all Gohan could do was mourn a death that had been anything but the hero's farewell his father had surely deserved. No ceremony, no gun salutes, nothing. Daddy took that man's honor with his lies; he might as well have been the one taking his life too. How could he…? How could he…? "How can you even stand to look at me?" she managed to whisper through the pressure at her throat.
It was his turn to cover her cheeks, tilting her head to meet his eyes. They were so incredibly serious but kind at the same time, telling her all sorts of things before he ever spoke a word. "Vi," he said, calmly so she'd understand, "you're not your father."
The sentence was so simple yet it still rang so untrue. Videl Satan was first and foremost "the Saviour's daughter" - a slight improvement from the earlier "Champ's little girl" - and it had been so for such a long time that it just felt too weird to think outside of those titles. People had only ever respected her because of it, all the praise she'd always gotten from random strangers was solely due to exactly that, wasn't it? Who was she if not her last name?
But yet to Gohan… The one person entitled to hold a grudge against her was the one who cared for her the most. The only man in the world that had the right to loathe her name was the one who didn't give a damn what it was. He'd always known about her, and yet he'd still stuck around, still looked at her like she was the most important person in existence, the most beautiful one, and with a simple look from him, or a smile, or a touch, that's exactly how she'd feel. Important. Beautiful. And so many others.
It wasn't human nature to forgive this much, but as it turned out, there was more to him than just "being human", wasn't there?
Looking into his eyes, feeling the warmth of his hands against her skin, everything seemed so unimportant. All the worry and self-pity she'd endured this hellish week became a distant memory in a different time, and just as Sharpner had told her, this was all she needed to clear the confusion. Everything was so clear now.
Without his secret, without her guilt, what's to hold them back?
Her arms snaked up and around his neck, ready to force his lips down to hers but there was no need, since Gohan took the action as a trigger and sped to the connection, hungrily but gently. Hesitant in a way, but to be honest, this last week had been like a month's worth of doubt, a year's of mourning and of distance. His arms encircled her, brought her close, possessively, desperately, lifting her feet off the ground like she bore no weight. He tasted so deliciously sweet yet salty from the tears - both of theirs - in such a way that numbed all her other senses. She could barely hear a voice in the background before Gohan took himself away from her to address it.
"Son?" the voice said. Focusing, it'd came from the bus driver, standing by the vehicle's door. "I'm sorry but we really have to go."
"S-Sure," Gohan said. "I'm sorry. I'll be right there."
Looking back to her, he struggled over his next words so she took over. "Go," she told him, caressing his wonderful chest. "We'll talk when you come back."
"Is everything…?" he tried to ask. "Are we… okay?"
She smiled. "If you're mad enough to have me…"
His mouth produced the most glorious grin she'd ever seen. "That I am," he said, and then kissed her once more, so, so softly. She made an effort not to hug him again since she surely wouldn't be able to let go anymore, and a trip to Mt. Paozu was not on her itinerary tonight. Hopefully it would be, one day, not too far down the line.
Gohan took his bag and stepped away, backwards so he'd keep staring at her with that gorgeous aura of bliss that made her chest hurt and her tears return in full force. His shiny blood-shot eyes had now turned elated yet peaceful at the same time, hyper yet relieved. He turned around only when he arrived by the driver, looking at the chubby man for a second before bear-hugging him by his protruded belly and elevating him from the ground. The man gasped but laughed, and she did the very same, so happy and perfect as he looked. She wished he wouldn't leave but his family needed him too. And it was only for a few days; she'd try to get her mind extra-busy until then so she wouldn't miss him as much. Maybe she'd make a list of questions to ask him…
They kept their gazes on each other through the window until the bus went away, unmoving, not even for a wave goodbye. She took a deep breath and cleaned her face with her sleeves, laughing to herself like a crazy woman but the happiness was just too much. Just thinking of that smile… Walking outside, the shadows now felt intimate, the lights, cozy. The cool breeze blew at her hair, inviting and refreshing, and she wondered if this was what it felt like to have hope. Not just hope like "I hope they have that chocolate cake I adore" at one's favourite restaurant, but true, pure hope. For the future. For the heart.
Sharpner was leaning against the car, arms crossed. He smiled when he saw her. Heavens, this was gonna be one long weekend, just waiting for Gohan to return. Never in her wildest nightmares had she been one of those girls, but there she was, a nervous bundle of jitters on standby for her prince. T minus fifty hours.
How did one prepare for the rest of their lives?
"Mom, wake up."
A groan came out of her instead of the intended growl, a desperate try at ignoring the voice that'd rudely invaded her wonderful dreams. Chi-Chi Son was nobody's mother right now, just a hot mess of a woman, melting into nothing under the touch of her sweet Goku - her fiancé turned husband just earlier that day.
It'd been such a warm evening after they'd left Papa's castle, their new home still vacant of any furniture apart from the kitchen table and an old futon. Needless to say, they'd made thorough use of the two of them, that very night. Such a quick and curious learner, he'd picked up on the do's and don'ts so fast, bless him, right from the start of their lives together. The first kiss had been a little too sloppy, the first touch too coarse, but that first time… God.
Maybe he'd been born to fight, but dammit, it's like he'd been made to fuck her. She hid a smile against her pillow; he loved it when she talked dirty…
"Rise and shine, Mom," the stupid voice insisted with all its annoying cheerfulness. "Come on." A tap on her leg and then she heard the curtain being pulled aside, just before the Sun scared away her naked husband with the way it spotlighted directly at her face. Closed as they were, she pressed her eyes shut even harder but the light was just too much. Who in the world…?
"Gohan?"
"Yep," he said, just as she managed to take a peek at the outside world. The mattress waved as he sat on the bed beside her. "Up and at 'em, sleepy head."
"W… What…?" Was she still dreaming? A hand rubbed her eyes as she sat up, just to make sure, but it all seemed real enough. Except… she hadn't seen that face in years. "What happened?"
He was smiling. Truly. How long had it been?
"Nothing happened, but you have to get up," Gohan continued, jumping to a stand and heading for the door. "It's almost ten thirty and we've got to get going."
"Going? Where?" Did she miss something? It was Saturday morning but Bulma wasn't coming to lunch since she went over to West City on business, and Trunks had come yesterday with Mia and Goten to spend the week until her return next Saturday afternoon. … No, everything was accounted for. Where did they have to go?
"Anywhere," Gohan responded with the proudest of grins. Goodness… maybe Goku's image was still too present in her mind, but she could swear he looked exactly like his father. Change that hair and that outfit for a worn-out red gi, and there you had him, freshly returned from the dead. But wait… anywhere? "Let's go out," he continued. "Somewhere. Just... put on something nice, okay?" The door closed shut behind him, but she could still make out an added, "Don't take too long!"
He… he wanted to go out? But they never went out. Not anymore, at least - family Sundays were not as wonderful without the whole family - the only exception being the few and sparse picnics by the lake Bulma would force upon them when the weather was nice. She bolted from under the covers, just out of sheer curiosity, the frown weighing her face not at all a representation of what her heart was feeling, but more like what her brain was refusing to comprehend.
Gohan was smiling. Grinning. With his lips, his eyes, his shoulders, everything. Her beautiful baby boy… Where had he been? Rushing for her wardrobe, she browsed through her best ensembles - dammit, why did she have so many? - adamant on getting to the bottom of what was happening. Just the other day he'd been so distant and silent, was he… She froze, gasping. Was he having a nervous breakdown? He seemed fine…
Heavens, she just had to calm down. He was happy! What in God's name mattered why it'd happened? After Cell, after so long, to see those eyes shine with joy instead of melancholy or hurt... Like Goku's. She forced her eyelids to close, allowing a pause and a breath to replenish her. When she opened them again, a smile grew uninvited, fueled by the feeling in the air and the image of that one dress. One she rarely picked - too girly to just stay at home, anyway - but also the only one Goku had ever had an opinion about.
You look beautiful, Babe. It became such a precious garment she'd never wore it again after he'd died.
She took it out by the hanger and turned to the mirror, admiring the pale-yellow fabric against the full-length of her body. Inch-wide shoulder straps, heart-shaped neckline, just a touch under the knee, it was indeed gorgeous but maybe a little too revealing? Yeah, maybe so - hence why Goku liked it, surely - but with a small cardigan she'd be good to go.
It still fitted perfectly, for her amazement, so maybe she wasn't so out-of-shape as she thought. Slipping on those cute black shoes Bulma had offered her one long Christmas ago - "They're ballerina flats, Chi. Every woman should know these things." - she went over to the dresser and its top drawer supplies to do her hair, but half-way to the usual no-fuss-bun, she decided to braid it lazily over a shoulder instead. It was a look she grew unaccustomed to wearing due to all the extra work it required, but it was actually quite nice, feminine - not an adjective she'd associate with herself nowadays. It took her a while to properly brush the thing root to tip before twisting it, but she'd gotten so used to the process by now - mainly before bed, since it'd take too much time in the mornings - it became a second nature of sorts.
As a baby, Gohan had always been keen to pull on her locks, and it actually made her consider a shorter length at the time - probably like Bulma had it when she went to Namek - but she couldn't, opting alternatively for what became her go-to hairstyle over the years.
Goku had always been so inattentive of these things, to such extents that would make her juvenile-self wonder if he'd even cared, back when they got engaged - about her looks, her body. But he did notice, and he did care, and because of that, her hair became the one thing she'd always keep long for him. Just for him, in the intimacy of their bedroom. Maybe it was stupid, but it made her feel close to her husband. What's so wrong with that?
"Mommy?" she heard Mia call right before a knock on the door.
"Come in, Honey."
Her little girl did and immediately gasped. "You look so pretty!"
How could a mother not smile at that? "Thank you very much," Chi-Chi responded, but she wasn't the one taking the prize that day, for sure. Her baby was the most charming little girl she'd ever seen, with that little red denim dress she'd also never wear - tomboy at heart like her mommy - with the puff sleeves. So precious. As fast as she'd been growing, though, it wouldn't be fitting that impeccably in another month or two, that's for sure.
The Son girls were going all out with this surprise trip to "anywhere", weren't they? Maybe she was old enough after all... "Come here," she told her daughter.
Mia stepped closer as she unzipped the little green pouch she kept on the dresser, taking out the pink tube. "How about some lipstick?" she asked the girl.
Not surprisingly, Mia gapped her lips at the suggestion. A nine-year-old girl was too young for such grown-up things, she'd normally tell her, but it was only for today - a special day for whichever unimportant reason, so it seemed appropriate. Their outfits were already new and improved; why not add some shine to them as well?
Leaning down, she traced some of the soft pink color along the girl's bottom lip and then hers, further instructing how to spread it and transfer some of the tint to the upper one by exemplifying the move herself. Mia mimicked the action, and then ran to the mirror to check out the oh-so-radical makeover, her eyes shiny and elated. Was that all it took for a smile so lovely? Maybe there was no harm in letting her grow up this little bit more, then.
Mia came back and hugged her around the waist. "Thank you, Mommy. I love it."
Chi-Chi chuckled. "You're welcome. Are the boys ready to go?"
"Uh-huh. They're already outside."
She nodded and followed the girl as she skipped adorably towards the kitchen, making a quick stop for her purse and an overall check of her home before leaving right behind her. Now where were those boys?
"Gohan! Come look!" she heard Mia yell towards the back of the house so she followed the sound. Everybody was indeed over there, her eldest coming over and kneeling to meet his little sister.
"What is it, Pumpkin?" She didn't respond, surely showing him her lips. It made her smile. "Oh, my, is that lipstick?"
The little girl giggled so incredibly sweet that she and Gohan were unable to resist chuckling right along. "Yup," she said proudly, and there she went, running off to meet the boys.
Gohan followed her movement but then his eyes turned to his mother as he stood. He looked so handsome. Seldom did he wear a button-down shirt, nowadays, and she just loved the rolled-up sleeves look on him. "Wow, Mom," he said softly. "You look beautiful."
"Oh, stop it."
"And here I thought we'd have a nice, calm Saturday," he continued with that wonderful grin, hugging her with an arm around the shoulders while walking further to the back of the house. "Now I'm gonna have to beat up a bunch of guys so they don't harass you."
It made her laugh. She was hardly that good-looking. "You leave them to me. I could use the exercise."
He chuckled. "Sure."
They stopped next to the car, and she wondered if that old thing would still even work. Not that she knew a whole lot about mechanics, but Gohan didn't need it and she'd never gotten her license, so the last time it'd been used was just before those dreadful games - eight years, three months, and nine days ago. Her son detected her musings, since he went on to say, "The battery was dead, but otherwise it's running great."
"Where are we going, Big Brother?" Goten came over to ask. She couldn't believe Gohan had managed to put him in those khakis and that knit vest. He looked so cute.
"I don't know, Buddy," Gohan responded. "Where do you wanna go?"
"The water park!" he yelled with an overly-excited jump. Goodness, what was it with her boys and water? Both Goten and Trunks were crazy for the water park and the beach, and Gohan just grew out of the childish frenzy but still loved it as well. And don't get me started on Goku.
His brother chuckled. "How about something a little less wet?"
"Hum…" She could just pinch those little cheeks, bloated out as he looked for the sky in consideration. "I know! I wanna go somewhere new."
"Somewhere new it is," her eldest proclaimed. "Hop on, kiddos." And so they did, the little ones climbing through the driver's side to buckle up in the back, while Gohan opened the passenger's door for her. In a minute they were off, travelling a great deal through increasingly unfamiliar surroundings to the happy tunes of the backseat trio and the wonderfully warm rays of sunshine that paved their way.
She tried not to stare but couldn't resist little peeks at her son behind the wheel. They'd skipped such a huge chunk of their own lives these past years, that she was only now starting to realise the small changes. Gohan had always been a grown-up but he was now an adult as well, with the body of one, and the roles of one. Like driving his family around, just like his father had. And that smile was the same, she noticed, the one of relaxation and fulfilment they'd both throw on in these lazy Sundays - oh, no, today was Saturday. It almost seemed like a Sunday, though, with the way it all felt so perfect. Those dreadful shadows had been blinding her for so long she'd missed it happening, but whatever had ignited inside him was clearing the skies again, black to heavenly blue. She missed this feeling, the one of being alive.
Who knew a son could give life to a mother?
"Hey, look," Trunks said from behind her shoulder. She looked back only to suppress a cackle at how the little boys were pressing their noses against the window. "There's a village over there."
"What does the sign say?" Mia asked, leaning over them.
"Aru Village," Gohan read from afar. "Never been there. Mom?"
"Nope. We'd normally never come this way," Chi-Chi explained while analysing their surroundings. Neither her nor Goku had ever made a conscious decision not to do so, but… they'd apparently had a preference for the coast instead of the interior mainlands. This place was not that far away from home.
"Well, I guess it's somewhere new, then." Her eldest smiled. "How 'bout it, little Buddy?
"Yeah! Let's go!" Goten almost yelled.
Soon they'd arrived by the gates and entered the village, which turned out to be surprisingly big and bustling with live. Many somewhat-new buildings rose behind the small dome-shaped houses that gathered at the entrance, though these ones seemed a lot older. Like the new part of town versus the old. They'd probably tidied up the place somewhere in the past, she reckoned, or at least expanded.
"I vote we stop for some grub, you guys," Gohan said. "Who's with me?" All the kids in the back, apparently, since the cheers were almost deafening.
"We can just buy something and head on back," Chi-Chi suggested. Having one less mouth to feed on a daily basis, and the two little ones having only dinner at home, had drastically reduced their grocery bills, but that still didn't mean they were swimming around in cash. Feeding three and a half saiyans - poor Mia could never keep up with the boys - was not for the faint of heart, and much less was it for the faint of money.
"Not a chance, Mama," he told her. "I'm steering this ship today." Wasn't that the truth? It's been a long time since they'd splurge on something like this, so she guessed one indulgence on a special day wouldn't break their budget. Much softer, Gohan then added, "Don't worry. I got it covered."
The car came to halt in a random parking spot by a place called "Sherman's". It seemed decent enough on the outside, with some beautiful flower beds, and one of those wonderful two-seater swing sets made out of wood. She remembered wanting one of those when Gohan was born, so the three of them could sit together and watch the stars before bed, but they opted for a nice long bench instead - the one which still sat by the kitchen door to this day.
Gohan held the door for them to enter, and the kids rushed to the corner booth. The place was lovely, gaining a rustic look with all the wood trimmings and furniture, even though it was clearly no more than a few years running. Right when they got settled, a waitress approached them, wearing a braid under the cutest feathered headband that went perfectly with the Western-style ambience. Her huge brown eyes shaved off a few years, but those expression lines she hated to call crow's feet would put the woman at about the same age as herself.
"Hello, there," she said. "Welcome to 'Sherman's'. What can I…?" She stopped, eyes blinking under confused eyebrows. What's wrong? Why was she staring at her Goten?
"Is... something wrong, Ma'am?" Gohan asked.
"Yeah," Chi-Chi said, a heavy frown weighing her eyebrows. Her baby boy was off-limits, perv! People thought only men would molest young children, but she wouldn't be fooled. This floozie would be flying out the window if she kept staring like that.
"I-I'm… I'm so sorry. I thought I saw a ghost," the woman told them ever so slowly.
"A ghost?" They all spoke in unison.
She then asked Goten, "What's your name, little boy?" It all went red from there.
"That's none of your concern!" Chi-Chi barked at her, in the most civil way possible given she was talking to a freak!
"Calm down, Mom," Gohan said. Yeah, right...
"My name's Goten." Such a sweet innocent boy, couldn't even see a threat right in front of his eyes. Just like his daddy when he was a kid. "What's yours?"
"Goten?" the waitress said, grinning like she was such a nice person but tough luck she'd fall for that facade. "Gosh, you just have to be related to Goku."
G-Goku?
"You know our father?" Gohan asked for everyone.
The woman shook her head, smiling and sighing. "Your father. Of course he would be," she said. "I'm so sorry, but little Goten here just gave me the heebee jeebies." A chuckle. "I'm Pocawatha, but people call me Poca."
"How do you know my daddy?" Mia asked with gapped lips, an image replicated in her brothers' faces. It wasn't all that usual that some random stranger knew of their father, that's for sure. She was curious too.
"He saved this entire village from a terrible monster like… oh my… almost thirty years ago, I guess," Poca explained.
"That sounds like Dad," Gohan said, smiling dearly. It sure did.
"He was a very sweet little boy," she went on to say. "So innocent, in fact, that he couldn't even tell if I was a boy or a girl."
"Oh, my God…" Chi-Chi immediately said, the humiliation making her cover her flushed cheeks. "Did he…? You know… to make out which one you were?"
Poca giggled. "He sure did."
Oh, Goku… How embarrassing… but what great memories it brought. A smile grew on her lips. How many taps on the crotch had it taken for him to finally be able to discern the genders just by looking, she wondered? Oh, and was it, "Hand or foot?"
"Hand. You too?"
"Oh, yeah, but I got the foot." On top of the Nimbus, she recalled. Smacked him right off the thing too.
"Hum… Mom?" Gohan interrupted them. "Care to explain?"
She and Poca shared a look before bursting out laughing, and it proved to be the beginning of a wonderful Saturday lunch.
They just had to come back here with Bulma one day - just another victim of Goku's crotch tapping - even more so since Poca mentioned a blue-haired girl travelling along with Goku. She couldn't remember the name, but who else could it have been? Her friend would love to see what'd happened to this place, most definitely. How they'd completely transformed the village with a whole lot of elbow grease and a plentiful sum of zenni from the forced benefactor that was "Oolong, the Terrible"... God, she couldn't even think it without wanting to burst out laughing. Oolong? Terrible? Pah!
They ended up leaving the restaurant with full stomachs and full hearts, but didn't manage to go home right away. Not a chance in hell with those kiddies of hers, because a street group had set up the most precious puppet show right outside Sherman's - a sweet homage to Poca's father, they've been told - and they just ran to it like hyped-up little monkeys. They were so happy… It was worth a few more hours, wasn't it?
"Here," she heard Gohan say as he sat beside her on the swing, the old wood complaining under the extra weight. "Reminded me of you."
"Oh, Honey…" In his hand, a beautiful pale-yellow hibiscus like the ones they had back at Papa's. Did he know it was her favorite? "It's lovely. Thank you."
"It matches your dress," he said, bringing an arm over her head to rest in full length behind her shoulders on the bench's backboard. Birds chirping and children laughing in the background, she closed her eyes, twirling the flower between her fingers and bathing in the delicate warmth of the afternoon's Sun like she'd been graced with a trip to the past. To a peace she hadn't felt in so long, sprawling widely against the emerald green meadows of her Mt. Paozu with her new husband by her side.
Her wonderful son… He'd given her so much today. Her head fell to his broad shoulder. "Thank you, Gohan. For everything."
"It was nothing, Mom. Just a meal."
Just a meal… Her smile deepened. "You make things less painful," she told him. "I love you very much."
A peck on her hair, and then his cheek took its place. "I love you too, Mom."
See? I'm not all about evil cliffhangers. :3
But please review anyway! :D