Vigilante Angel: Chapter the Fiftieth

Disclaimers 1 & 2: Do you think that I'd write fifty chapters of fanfiction if I owned Dragonball Z? No, I didn't think so either. LOL. As for any ideas that are/are similar to other ideas you have seen, see Chapter the Twenty-seventh.

A/n: We have now come to 50 chapters. Goten's not even 14 years old yet! How did it get this long? And this is NOT a question for you, Aline.

Aline: (Curses under breath)

SP: Yeah, yeah, that's what I thought. (Glares) Anyway... ya, fifty. And I haven't got to four hundred reviews yet! (Pouts) I thank the faithful reviewers, nevertheless, for putting their two cents out, but to everyone else...

Pffft! (Shakes head) Right. Still, I'm a grateful for the reviews, so if I sound greedy, I'm only pretending. (Shifty look)

Aline: (Sidelong glance)

SP: I saw that! (Menacing)

Aline: You were intended to. (Looks on smugly as SP face-faults)

SP: Ouch. (Rubs head gingerly) THAT HURT! (Glares at muse again) Owie... I'm going to try to write at least one chapter without the comments in parentheses (not brackets), because a certain few reviewers have complained about those. Apparently they like my story enough to read about FORTY NINE CHAPTERS of these "annoying" comments, reviewing all the while to "STOP TALKING IN BRACKETS. You sound retarded." (Takes breath)

Well, dear unnamed reviewers, your wish is my command, but for ONE chapter ONLY. Savvy? (Crosses arms) We'll see how this is received. (Taps foot)

:-:-:-:

POVA

Laughing, the Son brothers raced each other out of the door. However, they weren't done yet. We hear: "Hey, I know. We should go to Capsule for this spar. Trunks should have some fun too."

"Yeah, let's do that," Goten's voice shouted. The authoress and the readers glance at each other, greatly fearing for the domed structure of Capsule.

:-:-:-:

Five to Six Months Later, 13-14 Years After the Cell Games (a.k.a. 5-6ML, 13-14YatCG)

"Hey! Goten! Over here!" A hand waved the teenager (1) over to the owner of the voice. He was standing near the registration stand that Goten had been looking for since he'd come through the entrance gates.

Hadyn smiled slightly at his best friend's friend. Goten returned the smile with one of his own before he went to register. He had no worries about who was here now; if Hadyn was here, then so was Trunks.

It would be interesting after all.

"All Fire contestants please report to Arena Twenty-five for your preliminary matches. All Fire contestants please report to Arena Twenty-five..."

Hadyn slapped Goten carefully on the shoulder. "Apart before we've begun any havoc," he declared wickedly. Goten glanced down at the armband he'd received upon registration, but saw only a Wave patch on blue fabric. He peeked at Hadyn's armband—

Goten nodded quasi-mournfully. "The brand of the Flame dooms us both, my friend," he remarked. "Were it not there, much fun would not we have?"

Hadyn rolled his eyes. "Great, the puny eighth-grader's making up Shakespeare. I gotta get outta here." He waved from a distance, his red armband stark against his pale skin, having already begun walking away as he was speaking.

"Good luck in your prelims!" Goten yelled after him. He laughed when Hadyn shot him a glare over his shoulder, knowing full well that Rochester-san needed it. Hadyn himself would never admit it, though.

Alone now, Goten looked around for something to do before he was called. He had just started for the nearby hot-dog vendor when—

"All Zephyr contestants, please make your way to Arena Twenty-three for your preliminary matches."

—he was thrown to the ground. Immediately he rolled forward and sprang up. Trunks, grinning, caught his foot before it could land.

"Nice," he commented, releasing the foot. "Which element are you?"

Goten expelled a breath. "Water," he said succinctly, offering up the armband for inspection. "Looks like you're Water, too."

The lavender-haired Saiyan nodded, exposing his own cloth wrap. "Think we'll have to fight each other in the prelims?" Goten asked.

Trunks snorted. As they began walking in no particular direction, he declared, "That would be a riot. The hardest fight wouldn't even be a part of the tournament. They'd have to start televising the prelims if that happened."

"Not only the hardest, but the longest," Goten put out. "I think they probably would put time limits on prelims, anyway, so the fight wouldn't even be ended properly. What luck!"

Trunks laughed briefly. "Quite," his only remark became even as—

"Wave fighters, all Wave fighters, Arena Twenty-two is ready for you. Will you please be here in five minutes to begin the preliminaries? I repeat..."

Both Goten and Trunks exchanged glances. Suddenly they were off, speeding in the direction of the Arenas, marked by its middle, in which a colossal spindle sprouted solidly from its paved plateau. Scenery flashed by in the true spirit of Impressionism, blurry as no painting ever painted by Vincent Van Gogh could ever hope to be. Music blared out suddenly at them from their left, but it, too was left behind with only a breath, its tentacle-like strands straining mightily for their ears.

Food, marvelous food, wafted into their nostrils, tempting them to stop, relax, and admire what they had passed so swiftly. Their stomachs did not offer up any chatter, surprisingly, for they had had already been stuffed to the brim only minutes before entry into the tournaments. For Goten, the previous declaration was literal, for he had been munching on the last of his lunch in the plane transporting him here. (2)

And then they were there. They had arrived at the Spindle in a dead heat, their breaths hefting their way out of their mouths with a little more difficulty than before, but not so much as to define the action as "panting." Almost within the blink of an eye, Trunks and Goten had faded into thin air and reappeared at their desired destination (or so it would seem to an observer, had there by chance been one).

The whiff of air they had left behind in their mad dash to the spindle arrived explosively, a miniature sonic boom. Unfortunately, the originators were not there to hear it: They had already moved on to Arena Twenty-two.

Upon entry, a woman obstructed them immediately. She was not a kind- or pleasant-faced person; the Demon Duo's boisterous entry almost instantaneously whimpered and crept along meekly behind her after she gestured imperiously for them to follow.

"State your names and ages over here," she demanded harshly. "The proprietors will direct you from there." She left them facing two blue-shirted persons with clipboards, who indeed informed them of their destination. It was both fortunate and unfortunate that Goten and Trunks, too, were separated, "apart before we've begun any havoc," to quote Hadyn Rochester of only a few minutes ago.

And all of this happened before Gohan arrived.

:-:-:-:

"90 times I've told you not to follow me," Baba shouted at the irreconcilably mischievous Gohan. "90 times! You, boy, make me feel even older than I already am."

Gohan grinned; he was about to make a snappy comeback when Baba herself dismissed him. "Go; it matters not to me what trouble you get into in the Living World. It's not my territory, and by the Kaios I'm glad."

Mock-offended, Gohan placed a long-fingered hand over his heart. "That hurt, Baba," he sulked dramatically. He was about to continue when Baba shot him a look that clearly said, Don't go there.

"I said go. What more do you want?" Baba seethed. Gohan, taking his cue, saluted the fortune-teller. Even before he'd finished the action, he was standing facing the huge Spindle of East City's famous Circle of Arenas.

"All Earth fighters, your preliminaries will take place in Arena Twenty-four. Earth fighters, Arena Twenty-four please."

Gohan inhaled the sights, the sounds, the smell of food, and smiled. This was heaven; even the Otherworld could not compare to it. That was the bad thing about being dead: Nothing was ever as lively as the real thing, the masses of humanity and sub-humanity all congregated for the single purpose of entertainment.

Chuckling at his horrible joke, Gohan stuck his hands into his pockets and began strolling around. "Outsiders" were not allowed to see the preliminaries; Gohan knew Goten was already trapped within the Arenas by virtue of the location of the latter's ki. (3)

"Oh well," he consoled himself. "I can at least try to enjoy myself while I'm here."

Never did he know he would be accosted by a long faded memory.

:-:-:-:

Goten yawned; he'd just come out of his second-to-last preliminary and was utterly bored. It turned out that of each elementary division of fighters were further divided by age group from twelve to twenty. These age groups pitted its members amongst themselves for a spot in the tournament; this meant that nine fighters from each of the elements, ages twelve to twenty, would face each other in the real tournament; thirty-six in all.

This tournament was of course a minor tournament, in which lesser-skilled adults tested themselves against the more proven youngsters. That being said, the adults still were favorites to win the tournament; the bias merely had been steam-rolled out a bit more than in perhaps the World Martial Arts Tournament.

That didn't stop Goten's boredom, however. As he was a year younger than Trunks, the proposed "riot" in the preliminaries would never happen. Goten had already expressed his brief disappointment with a snap of his fingers.

One person, however, had attracted his attention: Takahira Hideki. The boy was strong, beating almost every one of his opponents with a smoothness that was surprising in a human fighter, especially one of his sparse fifteen years.

Goten shrugged. That Hideki was a good two years older than he was; Goten didn't have to worry about him until the real tournament began. Right now, the demi-Saiyan was much more interested in obtaining sorely needed nourishment.

So when he received the congratulations of the bitterly disappointed thirteen-year-old recently facing him, Goten only stayed long enough as was polite. The next thing he knew, he was avariciously approaching an Arenas kabuki bar.

Shelling out a rapid "Thanks!" for his food (generously provided free of charge by the tournament for the fighters), Goten raced away to a private place in order to savor his food. Just as he was about to start, a chuckle resounded beside him. As Goten looked around, his eyes lit up.

"Hey, bro! Did you catch my prelim match?" he exclaimed excitedly.

Gohan gazed at him amusedly. "How could I? The prelims are forbidden to outsiders, remember? Even I am not so foolhardy as to break those rules, not when there's such an ugly onna prowling the premises for anyone not sporting a blue armband." He nodded to the younger demi-Saiyan's arm. Goten rolled his eyes; having forgotten all about the armband requirement, he had thought Gohan would sneak in somehow to see how Goten handled the weaklings.

And weaklings they were, he reflected. Oh, sure, they were all strong in their own right, but, heh, compared to him, they were practically worms scratching the ground feebly for sustenance. (4)

"Humph," Goten disapproved. Gohan merely rolled his eyes; he chuckled benevolently in the next moment as his brother took advantage of the silence to finally wolf down his comestibles. Just as he gulped down the last bite, the professional announcer (PA) heralded the final preliminary contests for each elementary division.

Goten and Gohan traded wearied gazes; the former stood. Gohan rose also and dusted both his own clothes and his brother's. Just for good measure, the dead Son also ruffled the trademark force-resisting spikes, whereupon Goten batted indignantly at him and bolted away.

:-:-:-:

Hadyn twisted up the arm of his last opponent ruthlessly, almost the point of breaking the shoulder. His enemy did not scream, much to his credit, but Trunks was sure it was close to that for him. The human was forced to let go in order to prevent breakage when the fighter, Jie, twisted violently; Hadyn was almost thrown over his shoulder.

Instead, Hadyn pivoted on his foot and swept his foot low down on the ground. Jie jumped and performed a midair split, which Hadyn ducked under and flipped sideways, kicking out with his feet mid-flip. Jie barely avoided the attack and attacked again with a high kick. This time Hadyn withstood the offense, much to the shock of Jie. Hadyn thrust forward with a yell and karate-chopped fiercely. Barely grazing the Mohawk of his opponent, Hadyn knew he was done for.

Indeed, in the next moment, Hadyn found that he was spread-eagled on the firm red mat, the wind knocked straight out of him. Yumichika Jie had struck directly for his unguarded solar plexus and driven him straight into the ground.

Rochester Hadyn, participating in his first tournament, had lost before he'd even gotten to the main arenas.

Distantly, he heard the timer's ding, announcing the end of the match. He groaned and let his head fall back onto the mat. He'd disappointed Trunks, humiliated himself, and just screwed the name of his dojo all over the place.

"Great job," he heard a voice say. "It was tough fighting you."

He looked up a long distance to see the scrawny Jie standing over him. Hadyn offered up a weak smile. "You were better."

Jie shook his head, his flopping forelock of bright yellow a sharp contrast to his black hair. "Nah," he disagreed. "You almost got me with that arm twist. I count myself lucky that you lost your guard."

"I did, didn't I?" Hadyn grouched. Jie's hands shot up defensively; the British boy sighed. "Fine, fine," he muttered, accepting the hand Jie stretched out. It was not long before both stepped off of the platform; immediately it was taken over by the weapons martial artists, all of whom would show off their talents individually, instead of fighting each other with them (5).

"What's your dojo?" Jie inquired. Hadyn muttered an answer; Jie's eyebrows shot up. "No wonder you were so tough. That dojo's a really strong one. Is it true that it's Capsule who sponsors it?"

Hadyn cast a strange look at Jie. "No!" he protested. "My friend Trunks occasionally visits my dojo, but his parents don't sponsor it."

"Your friend? Briefs Trunks, the Briefs Trunks, is your friend? Liar," Jie challenged. "I'd sooner call my aunt a chimpanzee than believe Briefs Trunks is your friend."

"Oh, really?" Hadyn replied, the amoral gleam returning to his eyes. "Are you willing to make that a dare?"

"Yeah," the other fighter retorted. To his surprise, Hadyn cackled gleefully; with a burst of surprising strength, the brunette grasped his new friend around the biceps and hauled him out of the Wave Arena.

"Oi, Trunks!" Hadyn called out. Beside him, Jie paled; he could actually see the distinctive lavender hair that capped the head of only the most famous fighter under sixteen years of age. Behind him Jie could also perceive the notorious force-rebelling ebon hair of the Briefs' best friend in the entire world—

"Guess who called me a liar?" Hadyn yelled across the arena. He shoved Jie in front of him so quickly that the fighter stumbled. Looking up, Jie froze under the cool violet gaze of Briefs Trunks. "He didn't believe me when I called you my friend," Hadyn explained. The violet eyes lifted to the British transfer in a gesture of exasperation, as if to say Hello! Of course he didn't!

Jie found himself fascinated by the play of all-too-real emotions in those eyes. Briefs Trunks' face was much more expressive than the fighter would have expected; his friend, Son Goten, also displayed surprisingly humane qualities. (6) Jie didn't know exactly what he thought Trunks and Goten were like, but he wasn't expecting them to act like this, like—like they were normal. Suddenly—

"What's all the ruckus about?"

Jie spun around to face the new intruder. The looming visage of the stranger caused him to crane his neck to peek into the inquisitively friendly face towering over him.

For about the second time that day, Shock rushed up and sucker-punched him in the face. Wasn't this person the Son Gohan who had won the Budokai six years ago? What was this world coming to? How did it become his lucky day to meet so many famous people in one day—much less discover they actually had more than a semblance of humanity behind those well-known features?

Looking wildly around, he spotted Hadyn again, a reassuringly non-famous personality. "H-how did you do it? How did you come across all these celebrities?" he stammered. Hadyn looked surprised at the query, stopping to ponder his answer as the other three expressed differing emotions at being referred to as "celebrities."

Gohan merely snorted ironically, Trunks scowled, and Goten pointed at himself as if to ask: Me? A celebrity?

"I guess I just went to the same school as they did," Hadyn professed, lifting his shoulders in a wry movement.

Jie stared at him dazedly, before he turned and stumbled off. The Demon Quartet blinked in his direction, watching sharply as Jie somehow dodged children running amok, irascible old women with canes, and parents eager to see how their children had performed. (7)

"Well," Gohan remarked when Jie finally vanished from sight. "Your first taste of fame. Not bad."

"How am I a celebrity? I mean, I understand Trunks and even you, niisan, but me?" Goten stated incredulously. Trunks adopted an annoyed look; Hadyn rapped the thirteen-year-old upside the head. "Hey!" the victim protested, even as Hadyn snarled:

"Hello? Is anybody in there? Of course you're famous, you bonehead. You're the son of Son Goku, the winner of the Budokai of however many years ago, you're the brother of Son Gohan, the champion of the second-to-last Budokai, and you're pretty powerful yourself as far as fighting's concerned. Duh."

"But-but—" Goten stuttered, disbelief coating his face as paint. Gohan silenced him with a hand and a threatening gaze. "Bro, if you're that oblivious, take a look around. See just how many people stare at you, talk about you. After you've observed this fact, resign yourself to the fame. It's going to keep happening," the dead warrior warned.

Goten swallowed audibly; he knew Gohan spoke the truth. And when had Gohan ever led him astray? Gohan contracted his arm, reeling in the hand which seemed to have found its permanent resting-place before Goten's countenance.

"And if you keep competing in tournaments where you finish at the top or near it, you're going to get even more famous," Gohan commented. "I of course am going to avoid all of this foolishness because a) I'm dead; b) I'm too old for most tournaments except the Budokai, which I highly doubt I'm entering again; and c) I'm dead. All of this means that a) I get to look on mirthfully as all three of you are tortured by the burden of adolescence, school, and fame. Hahaha!"

Indeed, the dead warrior laughed as the three males before him gained disgruntled expressions, Trunks only falling back into the funky mood that had attached itself to him ever since the very topic of fame had been brought up.

"All fighters who passed the preliminary level, fighters who passed the preliminary level, the first round is about to begin. Please find Arena 15, Arena 15, for your matches."

"Well, guys, off you go. Hadyn and I will destroy the world without you," Gohan declared cheerfully. Goten adopted a mournful face similar to the one he'd shared with Hadyn before the prelims; Trunks snorted. "Have fun," he counseled them sardonically. "We will." The last part scurried to them over Trunks' shoulder as he dragged a still sad Goten away.

Gohan waved; when Trunks and Goten, too, vanished from even his view, he huffed. "That boy is getting to be more and more like his father every day," he grouched. Hadyn looked at him, his eyes hooded.

"Ya think?" his only asseveration was. Gohan looked down at the brunette staring at him pointedly and glanced quickly away. It was too late however: He burst into laughter, his control finally slipping. Hadyn maintained his straight face by rolling his eyes and beginning to walk, a second before he ceased his movement mid-stride to voice a question.

"Wait a minute, you're dead?"

:-:-:-:

"Come on, Trunks, crush him!" Hadyn screamed hysterically minutes later. "Slam that slugger!" Gohan added, creating a cheering equation meant to scare but really was typical of guys, even one as aged as Gohan. (8)

It was the first round, and it had passed quickly, thanks to the time limit set upon each match. Trunks had found his match to be second, against a Zephyr fighter who clearly was lucky to have passed the prelims. He appeared to be so scared to be fighting in front of thousands of people, Gohan and Hadyn commonly speculated that he had at least two clean pairs of pants waiting for him back in the locker rooms.

They were there in case he needed to change his current ones, those having been heavily soiled due to that very same fright. (9)

As if Trunks had heard them, the son of the former Prince of Vegeta-sei neatly decimated his opponent, knocking him out cold within seconds of launching. He even clapped his hands together in an action as if to say That's that.

To some people that was an offensive action, in particular the parents of his opponent and the more extended family members, such as his cousins. One did hear an elderly old man, assumedly a grandfather, roar, "Good for you! You've given him the solid beating he's always needed!"

To other people, stunned by Trunks' superiority in the fight, the final slap of hands was the last straw. They burst into applause and cheers, lending their voices to Gohan and Hadyn's, forming a throng as supportive of a "junior" fighter in the Arenas as if the World Martial Arts Tournament itself were here.

Lastly, to still other people, the swat was reminiscent of six years ago...

Goten breezed by in his fight almost as easily; his opponent was made of sterner stuff than Trunks', though awe did manifest on her face when she heard Goten's name. In fact, she rushed up to him to shake his hand ebulliently and to babble out that she was "honored to be able to fight the greatest (and cutest, in my opinion) rising star of martial arts, even with that Trunks character (who I don't really like) and—"

"May we please begin, miss?" The emcee asked suddenly, the microphone turned carefully away from her face. Goten's adversary looked around in surprise at the business-like woman (notably not the same one tyrannically guarding the Wave entrance), blinked, and gasped an "Oh! Of course! I'm so sorry, I—"

"If you'll step that way then," the announcer stated firmly. The younger girl, blushing, obliged, turning her back resolutely on Goten as she strode firmly to the spot indicated by the "bordering on irritated" emcee. Trunks had by now joined Hadyn and Gohan in the stands, by the simple expedient of hopping the wall that separated the audience from the fighters. It was he that noticed the emcee's actions and pointed them out to the others, and they all interchanged a good laugh.

Almost right away Goten doomed his girl to failure. She was more talented than the pant-wetter to be sure, resisting Goten with much more force than Trunks came up against in his match. But even she bent as a willow does in a ferocious wind, and Goten, too, leapt the wall to join his fellow Saiyans and human soon thereafter.

"Where shall we go from here until the second round?" Goten queried. Gohan shrugged airily, while Hadyn shouted, "Wherever we feel like going!" Trunks laughed; the mirth abruptly dive-bombed as a loud eruption tore the atmosphere—

"Ooooh! I'm so hungry! Let's get to a restaurant quickly before I die of starvation!" the lavender-haired teenager whined. Hadyn snorted at his friend's irrepressible appetite, that is before Goten seized Trunks' wrist and began hauling him off the grandstand.

Gohan and Hadyn looked bemusedly after them; the British boy turned to the Japanese and accused, bluntly, as only an European can: "Why aren't you as bleedin' hungry as those two? I would think that as huge as you are, you would be eating a lot more."

Gohan smirked. "I ate already," he declared simply. "When you and Trunks were yelling at the Siamese twins, I slipped away and 'robbed' the Alfresco Restaurant here blind."

"WHAT!" Hadyn bellowed, loudly enough to attract the attention of other people. Gohan looked meaningfully at him, his grin disappearing momentarily. Hadyn shushed, sheepishly looking around at the muttering people around him.

"Are you Son Gohan?"

:-:-:-:

1. "'Hey! ̀Goten! Over here!' A hand waved the teenager over to the owner of the voice." (SP: It's amazing to think this, but Goten really is a teenager, isn't he?)

2. "For Goten, the previous declaration was literal, for he had been munching on the last of his lunch in the plane transporting him here." (SP Sweatdrops)

3. "Gohan knew Goten was already trapped within the Arenas by virtue of the location of the latter's ki." (SP: I'm being really stuffy in my language and grammatical structure right about here, did you notice?)

4. "...worms scratching the ground feebly for sustenance." (SP: My description is rather graphic, isn't it? (Sweatdrops))

5. "...the weapons martial artists, all of whom would show off their talents individually, instead of fighting each other with them." (SP: Thank goodness! (Sweatdrops))

6. "his friend, Son Goten, also displayed surprisingly humane qualities." (SP: (Chuckles) I would say that there's a double meaning here, wouldn't you agree?)

7. "Jie somehow dodged children...old women with canes, and parents..." (SP: That Jie's got a lot of skill in avoiding things, hasn't he? LOL!)

8. "as aged as Gohan" (SP: :D)

9. "They were there in case he needed to change his current ones, those having been heavily soiled due to that very same fright." (SP: Guys. (Shakes head))

:-:-:-:

A/n: Whew! That's finally done! My apologies on taking so long and on leaving on a cliffhanger. Well, maybe not about the cliffhanger— (Ducks) Sheesh! I'm only teasing! (Mutters)

Ahem! Indeed. How'd you like this chapter? I hope you didn't find it too weird—I myself found it bothersome to put those footnote things in. Maybe I won't do that again (just a hint). I also apologize for not writing the whole tournament thing in one chapter; I tried really hard but other things just intruded, like conversations, the fifteen minutes of fame—

Ja. Well, anyway, we'll hopefully close up the tournament next chapter (but don't hold your breath). I'm trying to finish this as best as I can without really making this longer than it should be (as in over 60 chapters! Brr!), so forgive me if I appear to be cramming things together in one chapter that I wouldn't otherwise. Bear with me!

Now... What's up with the use of all the elements in this tournament? Is it supposed to be a celebration of nature or something? And is Gohan pestering Baba again? It sure looks like it! But what's the "long-faded memory" thing about? Is it another villain? It can't be! It's only been, what, two years since the last one? Hmm... very interesting. Also very interesting is Yumichika Jie's reaction to the Demon Trio. Seems like they're more famous than they thought, eh? It's not really surprising though, either. (Crosses arms)

It also sounds like Gohan has some explaining to do! He's just spilled the secret of his death to Rochester Hadyn! LOL! Baba's going to get on his case again! Poor guy. Of course, Trunks and Goten passed their first rounds easily, Trunks going up against a regular scardy-cat and Goten beating up a girl. What is this world coming to? And last but certainly not least, who the heck said the last line of this chapter? Find out, next time on Vigilante Angel!

For reviewing, my thanks to: Joou Himeko Dah, conlan0414863 (did I spell that right?), ExtrmEagle, Trunks'ssaiyangirl, Dark Armies (twice), lpgohanfanatic, and Tiara Shin! (Bows)

¡Adios!

TheShadowPanther and Aline, from AASN

AASN; Writing is what we do for you at AASN. Enjoy.

Updated 03.18.06

(Happy belated St. Paddy's day!)