To See You Again
Chapter Nine: Is There a Cure for Loneliness?
It was hard to resist the temptation now that he could recognize Videl's ki signature. He could feel it growing stronger every time it spiked up during one of her training sessions.
It felt wrong to keep tabs on her like this, and Trunks supposed he should focus on something else and stop trying to locate her energy signal every now and then.
But he couldn't help it. And, truth be told – he was worried. About her, and about Gohan.
The first day of Mark's ki lessons, Gohan never came back after he had gone to see Videl. From the feel of both of their energies, Trunks had concluded that things had gone badly – again. This time, however, the hopelessness he could pick up was so intense – he hadn't even dared go after Gohan to try and comfort him.
He'd felt like it wouldn't have made a difference, and while Trunks hadn't wanted to leave his best friend alone with his dark thoughts to wallow in self-pity, his gut told him Gohan needed his space at that time.
And so he'd continued to help Mark tap into his ki. The former world champion had made some progress, and although it was going slowly, the boy figured it was to be expected, seeing as the man was a bit rusty in martial arts and wasn't all that young either.
While he did his best to teach his and Gohan's new friend, in the back of his mind, Trunks could feel that something was… off, with Videl's ki. Against his better judgment and even though he knew what he was doing was wrong, the young half-Saiyan studied the emotions her aura gave off.
His brow had furrowed deeply. Yes, something was definitely wrong with the way her ki felt.
She was hurting too much. Her pain was palpable, tangible. Destructive.
It had almost made him tear up, feeling how much she was suffering, but he'd quickly caught himself, and even though Mark had shot him a perplexed look, Trunks had simply smiled and continued to give him instructions.
Her ki had been steadily growing, that day. Trunks could only assume she was venting it all out through the workout.
His worry for her only kept rising with time. The boy found himself searching for her ki even when she wasn't training, hoping she was doing better, that she was healing, that at least some of her distress was fading.
And then her ki would spike up and Trunks, who would already be looking for her, couldn't miss it even if he tried.
He was never sure about the answer, on whether she was doing better. Sometimes it seemed as though she was, while other times her ki felt so conflicted and tormented he would have no choice but to break the link – it was, he supposed, similar to looking away. It took a lot of effort, but her stabbing pain would be so intense and overwhelming – it was a burden Trunks simply could not bear. He had to look the other way, to close his eyes and cover his ears, to protect himself from the weight of her misery.
He often wondered whether Gohan felt it too, or if he had actually stopped looking for her energy signature.
They were still teaching Mark about ki together. Gohan was good at putting up a front, Trunks supposed, but ki couldn't lie. He was hurting as much as Videl.
Trunks still didn't dare to speak to Gohan about the woman he loved. He wouldn't even know how to bring it up. The boy was well aware that he knew way more than he was supposed to on the matter – not only had he met Videl months ago, but he'd also unwittingly read the letter Gohan wrote to her, a letter nobody was ever meant to know about, not even the woman it was addressed to. And now, he actually knew what her ki felt like and had been keeping tabs on her… and was even thinking about going to see her.
He knew it would be a terrible idea. For one thing, it really was none of his business. Not to mention, he might make things even worse – trying to talk to Videl in Gohan's favor certainly hadn't gone very well, that one time he spoke with her when they met.
He was in his bed trying to sleep, unable to stop mulling all of this over and over in his head – when he suddenly felt her ki spike up.
Trunks lifted his wrist and lit up the screen of his digital watch to look at the time. It was past midnight. Was Videl having trouble sleeping again?
He sat up, turning his head in the direction of her burning energy. She'd gotten a lot stronger in the past couple weeks, no doubt pushing herself to her limits to try and tune out her sorrow.
He bit his lip, the temptation gripping at him. Would it really be so bad if he went to talk to her? He obviously wouldn't be able to change her mind about Gohan – what more could he do that the man she loved hadn't? – but maybe, just maybe, he could help her get better. Despite how much she'd hurt Gohan and how he had resented her for it, after feeling her distress, her torment, her rage at herself even – he just felt so bad for her, and he couldn't help wishing he could do something to help… anything at all.
He pushed the cover off him and got up, quickly changing out of his pajamas and putting on his shoes, before flying off from the open window.
He was tired of holding himself back. Videl needed help, and she was all alone. He even regretted taking so long to make up his mind. Who else was going to be there for her? How was she supposed to get better if nobody was there to pick up the pieces, to lessen the weight on her heart, even the slightest bit?
He may be making a mistake, but honestly, Trunks didn't think it was ever a mistake to try helping somebody in need.
ooOoo
Trunks landed in the ruins of a once lively city. He frowned. Videl's ki was underground – right below where he was standing, in fact.
And she wasn't just training. On his way to join her, Trunks had noticed that there was a huge crowd around her and that another ki was fighting her. He scowled. What a reckless woman. She and Gohan were indeed perfect for each other – both stupidly getting into dangerous fights before they were ready, before they were fully recovered. Over the years, Trunks had lost count of all the times Gohan had gone to face the cyborgs while still covered in bandages. Tch. No wonder they found each other, those two.
The young half-Saiyan walked around the old ruins, trying to find the way to get underground. It looked as though it had been a few years since this city had been attacked, and while rubble still littered the streets, it was apparent that people still lived here. Some buildings were still standing, albeit barely, and a lot of capsule houses replaced the destroyed neighborhoods. He hoped the cyborgs weren't going to fly over this city… While it was safer to stay in a place they'd already attacked, the people here weren't being discreet enough. It was too obvious that there was life in the area.
He stopped at the entrance of an abandoned subway station. Walnut B Place, the cracked, fading sign read. That must be it. Videl must be fighting somewhere in the subway station.
Not wasting any more time – he was worried about the way her ki wavered, sensing that she was struggling against her opponent – Trunks rushed down the stairs and plunged into the dark and damp underground corridors. A few lights flickered, giving the place a horror movie kind of feel, but the boy didn't even notice. He focused on Videl's tormented aura and let it guide him towards her.
She really wasn't getting better, was she? To think she would go back to fighting after less than two weeks of training, most likely hoping it would help her vent out her grief, her frustration.
A dead end. Trunks cursed under his breath. Letting her ki signal guide him had its flaws. She was right behind this stupid wall, too. Trunks was almost tempted to just break through the bricks, but that was a risk he was not willing to take. Who knew how sturdy the underground construction was? He would be putting the huge crowd he could sense at risk, and that was something he would never do.
Letting out a deep sigh, Trunks turned around and took a right corridor, hoping it was the right way to get to the street fights.
He was relieved when he heard the sound of cheers getting louder. He sped up the pace and soon saw the light at the end of the tunnel – literally. He was jogging along the last corridor leading to an archway where brighter lights were coming from.
The audience was loud, standing all along the platforms on either side of the rail tracks, on which two fighters were going at it with everything they got.
Finally, he'd made it. He couldn't see a thing from the mass of people, but he felt from Videl's ki that her opponent was giving her trouble. Frowning, he pushed through the crowd who barely paid him any mind, too riveted by the ongoing fight. His chest tightened as he slipped through the last pair of guys that stood in the way of the current form of entertainment, his eyes stopping on the young woman.
His brow creased further. She looked a bit thinner than what he remembered. He saw her block a series of attacks from her opponent, backing away as he kept striking and even speeding up. He was tall and well-built and seemed like a skilled martial artist, maybe a kickboxer from the way he was using his legs.
His knee connected with her side and Videl winced; a roundhouse kick followed, throwing the woman against the wall of the platform before she dropped on the rails. She struggled to get up, blood trickling down her chin, and the man slowly walked to her, looking her down sternly.
"I've heard about you," Trunks' acute Saiyan hearing managed to make out in the midst of the ruckus of cheers and boos. "You were the best, and I was thrilled to face you tonight. What happened to you? You're like the ghost of who you used to be."
"It's laughable, isn't it?" she agreed, her tone bitter and ironic. She stood and leaned back against the wall, smirking humorlessly at her challenger as she held her sore side and tried to catch her breath for a few moments. She stood tall then and clenched her fists, and Trunks felt her ki rise; he raised his eyebrows. How did she know how to do to that? Was she even conscious of what she was doing? "But you haven't seen the last of me yet."
The man's face hardened, clearly disappointed in this fight. Trunks felt nervous as he kept watching. It would probably be best if Videl lost against him. That way, she would maybe understand she'd jumped the guns and should wait some more time before getting back to the street fights.
Yeah, right. Like being reasonable totally sounded like her.
She went on the offensive this time – and was actually dominating her challenger now. He was the one backing away – she was like a lioness, not letting up for a second. Her focus was suddenly heightened, and so was her precision and the power of each of her strikes.
Her heavily heeled boot crushed her opponent's face, and the man landed roughly on the wall lining up the train tracks. But he shook his head swiftly and was back in his fighting stance not a moment later. The hint of a smirk curved his bleeding lips as the two fighters clashed forces again with brutality and rawness which Trunks did not expect.
Humans were unexpected beings, that was for sure.
He watched the female runner-up intently and couldn't help feeling a kind of kinship toward her. As she fought with everything she had, her eyes burning with determination, Trunks felt a surge of admiration for this tiny thing of a girl. She was particularly talented, that was for sure. To think she wasn't even at her best…
The two challengers locked hands in a test of strength, pushing against one another in an impromptu display of wrestling. Tension rose in the subway station as they struggled against each other, their feet solidly planted onto the tracks as both tried to get the upper hand. Trunks winced as the man overpowered Videl and kneed her in the chin, but she managed to ride the momentum of the blow and land on her feet with a smooth backflip, faltering slightly on the landing.
She huffed, looking exhausted and wiping beads of sweat from her forehead. She eyed her opponent with a predatory gaze. Trunks was getting more and more worried about her. She really shouldn't have come to the fights tonight – she was nowhere near ready to go against opponents like the skilled kickboxer.
The fighter in question charged forward, unleashing a barrage of brutal thrusts and roundhouse kicks at Videl, only for her to nimbly weave her body through the onslaught, sometimes just barely avoiding being hit. Trunks didn't like the way she would wince whenever she parried a hit. Her eyes were moving fast; it looked as though her brain was reeling, as though she was trying to come up with a way to win this fight even though she was clearly overpowered by her opponent.
Then, as if having found the opportune moment to pounce, she latched on to the back of the man's knee in the midst of one of his kicks with a claw-handed grip and slammed him onto the rails, causing him to grunt and wince at the shock of the impact. Not faltering in her assault, Videl drove her knee into the crook of his own, eliciting a gasp of pain, then she clasped her hands together around his ankle and twisted the trapped appendage unnaturally while applying pressure with her knee, making him scream in agony.
Trunks felt a big wave of relief and released it in a deep breath as the man tapped the ground in submission, obviously unwilling to risk damaging his leg permanently even if it meant losing the fight. The roars of cheers that followed were deafening, and the boy winced slightly at the noisy aggression.
But at least Videl won. She had a good brain, that girl. Finding a way to win against a stronger opponent showed a lot of intelligence and creativity. He felt a smile form on his lips as she stood tall, taking in the wild crowd acclaiming and applauding her, a glint of pride shining in her blue eyes.
Man, no wonder Gohan wasn't able to resist. She was goddamn awesome.
But then the organizer walked up to her and asked if she was still up for the next fight, and Trunks' smile faltered as she curtly nodded her head.
As reckless as the man who loved her, that one. Trunks clenched his fists and grunted in disapproval. Couldn't she at least take a break? How could someone so obviously intelligent be so stupid? He slapped his hand over his face. So frustrating. Did she plan to count on sheer luck for her next fight too? What if it was against an even more skilled fighter? Well, if that meant she lost and stopped fighting afterwards, maybe it was the only way for her to call it a night. His eyes narrowed as he studied the bruises and cuts on her face, on her bare arms, and even under the knee tears of her loose cargo pants tucked into her boots. She was in no condition to face a new, fresh opponent. Did she not get it after her fight against the kickboxer? Did she let her win get to her head?
Trunks sighed in aggravation, and yet, even though it would be better for her to lose the next fight, the boy couldn't help secretly rooting for her as the next runner-up jumped from the platform, landing with a heavy thud on the rails, almost making the ground shake. This one was a mountain of muscles and definitely looked like a wrestler. He was enormous, and despite the bulging muscles on his arms and legs, his stomach was big and fat. He had wild brown hair and sported a bushy beard, and his dark eyes were shining in anticipation as he smirked confidently at the young woman.
A girl next to him let out an excited shrill as she cheered for Videl, though she was calling her "The Devil," which was apparently her stage name. Trunks winced at the screech and glared at the culprit for his ringing ears. She was about a head taller and didn't look much older than him. She was probably fourteen or fifteen. She had dark skin and bright pink shoulder-length hair which she styled into two low ponytails – very much like Videl's, although hers were much longer, reaching down to her lower back. Looking the girl up and down, he noted that she was even dressed in the same way as the female fighter, with a tank top, cargo pants, fingerless gloves, and platform-heeled, knee-length boots. Well, it wasn't a surprise that Videl would have fans, and the fact that she was a woman probably made many girls see her as their role model.
The loud girl's idol stood tall and crossed her arms as she gauged her new challenger. Trunks felt his stomach twist and tighten with apprehension and unease. He didn't have a good feeling about this. He didn't like the way the wrestler's aura felt – there was something sinister about him, something… ominous. He was staring at Videl with a wicked grin, and licked his lips like a hunter ready to make his kill and devour it.
Trunks swallowed and clenched his fists, hoping he was wrong about this. Videl may not be at her best right now, but she was used to these fights, right? She was going to be okay, wasn't she?
The organizer asked for the newcomer's stage name, to which he replied with the same wicked grin, not taking his eyes off Videl, "The Bug Squasher. 'Cuz I'mma squash ya' like a bug," he added, pointing his finger at his opponent.
Videl smirked as she turned to face the giant man fully, oozing confidence as she retorted, "Good luck with that. Bugs are more resilient than people anyway."
Cue in another shrill cheer coming from his left; Trunks winced. That fan of Videl's was… enthusiastic, that was for sure.
"Then let the fight begin! The Devil versus the Bug Squasher!" the guy in charge declared loudly, causing an uproar of cheers from the crowd on the platforms.
ooOoo
Videl winced, grazing the wound on the side of her face with the tip of her fingers. She limped away with her winnings, not feeling all that glorious even though she had somehow managed to come out victorious against that Bug Squasher. As she slowly made her way out of the dark subway station, the cheers and uproars from the audience became steadily fainter.
That one hadn't been all talk. Her strikes had had barely any effect on him. She wasn't even sure how she'd managed to knock that monster of a man down. His attacks had been merciless and vicious, and his brute strength had been devastating. He had been quick and alert too, his imposing stature not slowing him down. His wicked grin only seemed to widen whenever he landed a hit with his hammer-like fists. Against him, Videl actually felt like a bug.
How many pressure points did she have to aim at before he was finally knocked out again? Three? Four? Videl still couldn't believe she had somehow managed to beat that guy.
She was sore all over, her body felt like one big bruise, and she barely had any energy left. Her whole face was searing, and Videl knew she must not be a pretty sight right now. She dreaded looking at her reflection and see the damage that Bug Squasher had inflicted on her. At least nothing seemed to be broken…
She came upon a flight of stairs and sighed at the thought of having to climb up the seemingly endless steps, her shoulders slumping. And then her face contorted in disgust. She was repulsed of herself. How could she let herself become so weak? Now a simple flight of stairs discouraged her?
To think she had only lasted for three fights tonight. Only three. And she barely made it victorious each time! A couple months ago, they wouldn't even have been the main course; she would've taken them out one by one with barely a scratch on her, easy.
She was still too out of shape. Videl knew that she'd jumped the guns tonight, that she wasn't ready to go back to the street fights yet.
But she had to do something, she needed a way to vent somehow, and training on her own could only do so much. She had to stop thinking about him. She needed to stop raking over everything that happened. She couldn't keep dwelling on what could have been. It was over with Gohan, once and for all. She had to accept it. It had been her decision, and she couldn't keep going over it again and again.
So what if she may have made a terrible mistake? So what if she could have been happy with him, even if it wasn't meant to last?
Videl put her hand on the handrail and climbed the first step, and then the next, her face taut in a harsh scowl as she kept going, commanding her sore legs to keep moving.
At last, after what felt like hours, Videl reached the top of the stairs and was finally out in the fresh air. The night was cloudy but not chilly, and Videl breathed deeply, taking a moment to fill her lungs with new air after spending a few hours in the damp and smelly underground.
And then she froze and forgot to breathe for a few long seconds. The young boy seemed to be waiting for her outside, leaning back against the pole of a street lamp. She didn't recognize his facial features, but Videl couldn't have forgotten his striking blue eyes and signature lavender hair, even if she had only met the boy once over six months ago.
"You…" She took a step back. What was he doing here? How did he know how to find her? Did Gohan even know that she'd met his young friend? It hadn't felt like it all those months ago when he told her about him. Then again, things could have changed since then… Still, Videl couldn't fathom that Gohan had anything to do with the boy coming to see her, not after… not after what happened when they last saw each other. He had promised, and Videl knew he meant it. He wouldn't have sent his friend after her, not after… everything.
"Gohan has no idea I'm here," the boy said right off the bat, confirming her presumption. He took a tentative step towards her. "He doesn't even know we've met before." He lowered his head and buried his hands in his pockets. "There's a lot of things he's not aware of… about what I know about you and him."
Videl pursed her lips, not sure what to make of that. "How did you even know how to find me?"
He sighed, digging his hands deeper into his pockets. "It's like I said. I know a lot more about you and Gohan than I should."
She crossed her arms, gauging the boy with narrowed eyes. "What else do you know?"
He looked about the town, his gaze shifting from side to side, all around, everywhere – anywhere but at her. "Too much, probably." He finally met her eyes, and the determination and kindness Videl could decipher in his made her chest prickle. "I know you're hurting a lot, both of you. But you're on your own. You've got nobody to help you, or just, to put a smile on your face… And I just… I want to do something for you."
Her expression hardened. "I don't need anyone, least of all a constant reminder of him."
"But I could help you. I want to help you."
She gritted her teeth. Why couldn't he back down already? His kindness reminded her too much of Gohan – and that was the last thing she needed.
"Well, I don't want your help." She withdrew a capsule box from inside her jacket, ready to take her motorbike and set off her way. Her house was put away as well, so she could just up and leave this town right now. Well, maybe not tonight – she was too exhausted.
"Wait." He put his hand on her gloved wrist to stop her, looking deep into her eyes. "Please. I just want to help you, and I could… I could help you get back in shape. You know who I am, right?"
And by that, he didn't mean he was Gohan's friend. He was the boy Gohan trained, the boy who, like his mentor, could turn his hair gold and face the cyborgs, despite his young age.
She shrugged his hand off her wrist. "I can get back in shape just fine on my own, thank you very much."
With that, she took out her motorbike capsule, clicked on the cap and threw it on the street, making her bike appear in a cloud of smoke. Videl climbed on.
"Please."
Something about how helpless he sounded made her pause. She gave him one last look, and felt a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. His sad, puppy eyes got to her. As much as she wanted to suppress it right now, she'd always had a soft spot for kids, and the boy only meant well. She revved the engine. Maybe she ought to entertain him a bit longer.
"What's your name?"
Gohan had told her, but she couldn't remember. The boy slumped his shoulders in defeat.
"I'm Trunks."
"Well, Trunks, I understand what you're trying to do. You're a good kid. But I'd rather be left alone, so don't come back."
"I just really wish you had at least somebody, even if it's not me."
She shrugged and turned her gaze ahead, revving the engine once more.
"Aren't you going to wear a helmet?"
She almost laughed at the innocent question. Shaking her head with a light snort, Videl started the engine and took off, leaving the lavender-haired boy behind.
ooOoo
The motorbike was long gone now. Trunks let out a deep sigh and looked at the ground, shuffling his feet. The outcome of his second meeting with Videl wasn't a surprise if he was being honest, but he had wanted to believe that he could get through to her… He thought back of their encounter and told himself that it didn't go all that bad… He did manage to get a small smile out of her at the end, at least.
Well, there was no need to linger about any longer now. He looked around, surveying the surroundings to make sure the coast was clear and he could take off to the sky without attracting unwanted attention. Nodding to himself, Trunks was about to do just that – but just then, he heard steps and chatters coming from the subway station. He turned around swiftly, just in time to see a group of teenagers come up the flight of stairs leading outside.
Trunks recognized immediately Videl's fan among the group. Her bright pink hair was a stark contrast with her dark complexion; it was hard to miss.
He should have run right then. Turn around and disappear into thin air; they wouldn't even have noticed he was ever there.
However, his curiosity was piqued by the conversation they were having.
"You're right, she didn't look like herself," a dark blue-haired boy said to her, who nodded worriedly.
"And it's been a while since we've seen her fight, too," a tall boy with black gelled up hair said with a frown.
"She looked thinner, right?" another girl said; this one had blonde frizzy hair. A boy with brown curls nodded thoughtfully.
"Something's not right," he said.
"Yeah. Those guys should've been a piece of cake for the Devil," the dark-skinned girl agreed. "I hope she's all right…"
Apparently, she wasn't the only fan Videl had. The five teens came up outside, still discussing their idol's performance of tonight. The one with brown curls noticed Trunks first. He tapped the tall boy's arm, the one with gelled up hair, and nodded in the eleven-year-old's direction. The others noticed the exchange, and the next moment, all eyes were on him.
"Hey, weren't you at the fights tonight too?" asked the blonde girl.
"Oh yeah!" exclaimed the pink-haired teen, recognition in her eyes. "Did you leave because the Devil's not fighting anymore too? Are you a fan of hers as well?"
"Uhh…"
How did he get himself into this situation? Glancing at his watch quickly, Trunks thought that he really, really ought to go home.
"We were going to grab a bite before heading back," she went on with a friendly smile. "You want to join us?"
The tall guy with the black hair rolled his eyes. He leaned back against the handrails and fished out a cigarette pack inside his leather jacket and lit himself one. Trunks raised an eyebrow at him. He was trying way too hard to look cool, that one, what with the gelled-up spiky hair, the leather jacket and the torn jeans.
"Trying to rope in more members for the Devil's fan club, Shay?" he said with a mocking tone, before blowing smoke out of his mouth. "This one's a little young to join, don't you think?"
Trunks crossed his arms and frowned. He hated when people took him lightly because of his young age. So what if he was only eleven? He was probably more mature than all these kids put together.
"Let's just go already, I'm starving," the blonde girl complained. She was wearing a fitting pink dress, a dark denim jacket, opaque tights and laced-up ankle boots. "Leave the kid, bring the kid, I don't care."
The two other boys shrugged their shoulders, like they didn't care either way. They were both about the same height and slightly shorter than the cool wanna-be. The brown haired guy wore a T-shirt with some music band logo on it, a pair of torn jeans and simple sneakers, and the dark blue haired teen sported a gray hoodie with the Capsule Corp. logo on it, and, too, a pair of jeans and sneakers.
The brown haired guy shot him a bored look before his eyes unfocused again and he seemed lost in his own world again.
"You're coming, right? We can chat about the Devil while we eat. It's gonna be lots of fun!" the overly excited pink haired girl piped up.
Trunks knew he probably ought to decline the offer. His mother might have noticed he wasn't in his bed and could be worried sick about him. Then again, he sometimes got up in the middle of the night to clear his mind with a late training session, so him being out at night wouldn't be too odd. Hopefully, that was what Bulma would think if she saw his empty bed. Better yet: he hoped his mom was still sound asleep and had no idea he'd snuck out.
"Okay."
And maybe he could learn more about Videl with these kids… and find other ways to help her.
ooOoo
Gohan was in no mood to celebrate, but for his mother's sake and everyone else's, he had to put on a front. It was his birthday – his twentieth – so it was only natural that his family and friends would want to throw a party for him and maybe even, try to forget about the horrors of their world.
It's been three weeks already… he couldn't help reminding himself, his shoulders slumping. But he quickly caught himself, lest anyone noticed his low spirits, and focused on finishing his piece of chocolate and strawberry cake.
He'd blown his twenty candles – plus one for good luck – and everyone was having cake and talking excitedly around the table in his childhood home. Gohan looked about with a small smile. There was his mom and Trunks and Bulma, of course, as well as his grampa who, despite his old age and weak health, had made the trip to be with him today. And even Mark was here.
He and Trunks were still teaching their new friend about ki. His progress was slow and strenuous, but his teachers hadn't given up on him and now, the one-legged man could finally hover a good five foot off the ground.
Mark claimed it was enough to get by, that they had done so much for him already and they didn't need to take time out of their busy life to teach him any more. But, truth be told, the middle-aged man had been a refreshing distraction for Gohan in the past weeks. He was fun to be around, and his extravagant persona could sometimes make the young man forget about the hole in his chest where his heart used to be.
"Don't you like the cake, sweetie?" his mom asked, a worried crease starting to form on her brow.
"Of course I do!" he exclaimed with forced enthusiasm and then quickly finished his plate in a few, big spoons. "You know it's my favorite," he added after swallowing his mouthful, wiping his lips with a napkin.
Chichi cracked a smile, visibly reassured. Gohan took the opportunity to excuse himself from the table, saying he would be right back, and went outside for a walk.
And the mask fell. Gohan closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, taking in the pure air of the mountains, struggling to keep it together.
It had been exactly three weeks since he last saw Videl. He couldn't get the image of her out of his head – the dark, hollow circles around her eyes, her bony features, how light she had felt when he'd caught her in his arms…
Her tears. Her panic. Her anger. Her hopelessness. Her distress. Her pain.
Her kiss.
Gohan ran a trembling hand over his face. Would it really be their last kiss? Despite his resolve to stay away from her, to actually give up on her for good, Gohan couldn't bring himself to let go of all hope. There had to be a way… Someday, maybe. If Bulma's weapon worked, if they managed to defeat the cyborgs, if the world was finally safe again…
His shoulders slumping, his head low, he dragged his feet as he walked along the river by the house.
If he survived long enough…
"Gohan?"
He looked behind him, and a smile was forced onto his face as Bulma came up to him.
"Hey, Bulma. Thanks for coming, I really appreciate it," he said, trying to sound cheerful.
She frowned. Gohan swallowed. He had a feeling she wasn't buying it. Was he really that obvious? Did the others notice too?
"Gohan, drop the act. I know you enough to recognize your fake smile."
Her tone was firm and annoyed, like the one she would use when she scolded her own son. Sometimes, Gohan didn't really feel the difference – sometimes, he felt like he was her son too – like he had two moms.
He sighed and ran a hand over the nape of his neck. "Do you think Mom noticed too?"
Bulma didn't answer, frowning in worry as she watched him. "Gohan, what happened?"
He turned away, following the stream of the river with his eyes, the water surface glistening in the starlight. He didn't say anything, letting the heavy silence weigh on them both.
But he couldn't answer. He couldn't talk about it. He could barely accept it had happened.
"Gohan," Bulma said his name firmly, walking closer. But he couldn't face her. "Gohan, look at me."
She touched his arm, coming from behind him. Gohan closed his eyes, unable to stop the images of that day, three weeks ago. Of Videl, and the panic on her face as she backed away from him and he kept asking what happened, what happened to her. His mere presence had been toxic for her. Because he couldn't stay away. Because he'd broken his promise on that rainy night. Because it had been too much for her, to see him, to be with him again, to say goodbye. And he'd hurt her more than he could've ever imagined.
She had been right all along. How could he have been so stupid? How foolish he'd been, to hold on false hope.
He closed his eyes and sucked in a sharp breath, trying to get a hold of his emotions. Now was not the time to break down. Not in front of Bulma, not on his birthday, at his birthday party. Not now. Not like this.
He had to keep it together. For all of them, for their sake.
"Gohan…?" Her voice was softer; worried. "Gohan, please, talk to me. I'm your friend and I want to help. I can't bear to see you like this."
"You can't help," he blurted in a faint voice. "There's nothing you could do – nothing anyone could do." Gohan swallowed, clenching his fists at his sides as he forced the words out. "It's over."
Bulma frowned deeply. "It can't be over. Haven't you told Videl about my weapon? It's going to work, Gohan. There's no reason you and Videl can't…"
He turned around in an abrupt and swift movement, shrugging her hand off his arm, and his voice rose as he cut her off, "Is it, Bulma? Is it really going to work? Can you tell me that it will kill the cyborgs, one hundred percent? That there is no risk of them, I don't know, dodging the ray, or even, not being affected by it? Are you telling me it's in the bag, that it's a guaranteed success? That it absolutely cannot fail?"
His harsh tone rendered the blue-haired genius speechless, and her silence was enough an answer.
"That's what I thought," Gohan muttered angrily, turning away from her to go back to the house.
"Gohan…" The crack in her voice made him stop, but he didn't turn around. "Gohan, what happened?"
A pause. Gohan still didn't move, showing her his back. He shut his eyes tightly. "She's taking it worse than I." Damn it, his voice was trembling. "She got into a depression, and she's lost a lot of weight. I saw her a few weeks ago when she was trying to get back to training." He suddenly turned around, his eyes brimming with tears, while Bulma watched him silently, letting him pour his heart out. "She's trying to get better, to pull herself out of it – and every time I see her I'm just making it worse. Don't you get it? She was doing okay before I went to see her that night, before I reminded her just what we had to give up on… and now she's not even herself anymore." His voice was rising along with his distress. "I made her lose her will to live – I destroyed her!"
"No, you didn't," Bulma said, her tone firm but gentle. She took a step forward, put a hand on his tense arm and looked deeply into his eyes, determination and resolution shining in hers. "You didn't do this to her – it's not being with you that's destroying her, Gohan. She needs you. She needs you to get better."
He shook his head. "You don't get it. You may have lost people you love too, but she's lost everyone. Imagine if you lost Trunks and me and mom. That you were all alone. And then you meet someone and you fall in love and you lose them too."
"She's not going to lose you, Gohan. You're Goku's son. You can do it. Even without my weapon – you will kill the cyborgs."
"You don't know that."
"I do. And I'll help you the best I can. But you need Videl in your life to get there – you need her to give you that strength, to surpass yourself."
Gohan suddenly tugged his arm away from her, like her touch was acid, gritting his teeth as a few angry tears rolled down his cheeks. "You don't get it! Why can't you put yourself in her place? Why won't you understand – it's over! There's no hope! It's a lost cause! I won't ever be with her!"
It finally happened. He couldn't hold it anymore. Gohan crouched down and hugged his legs, burying his face in his knees, his shoulders shaking with violent sobs.
A gentle hand touched his shoulder. Gohan didn't look up, but he felt Bulma's presence by his side, crouched down beside him, trying to comfort him.
"I'm sorry," she murmured, her voice trembling with emotions. "You're right. What I've been through… it's never been as bad as what Videl has had to deal with. I've always had someone, I was never all alone. I'm sorry, Gohan… I just want you to be happy. And Videl makes you happy…"
"And I make her miserable," he croaked out helplessly.
She rubbed his back. "Don't say that. She's miserable because she's convinced herself that she can't be with you when that's all she really wants. She was happy that one day you spent with her, wasn't she?"
His memory irremediably went to that day. That perfect day with her, when he discovered her body for the first time, and then time and time again; when he'd asked her on a date, and she said yes to humor him.
The laughs. The games. The talks. Getting to know her. Spending time with her. Falling deeper and deeper in love with her with every second of being with her, with every smile, every twinkle of her eyes.
Her eyes… Shining, sparkling as she looked at him, grinned at him, laughed with him…
Yes. Yes, she had been happy that day.
"And then what?" Gohan raised his head and wiped his face, sniffing a few times. "And then what?" he asked again, looking at Bulma this time. "Bulma, even if we do get together, how long would we have before I get myself killed?"
She frowned deeply. "I hate when you say things like that. You're not going to fail, Gohan. If you believe in yourself, nothing can stop you."
He sat on the grass cross-legged, deep in thoughts, his head lowered. Bulma made herself more comfortable on the riverside as well, patiently waiting for his reply.
"I've thought about it, you know," he finally spoke, still not looking up. "How long I have."
"Gohan, don't go there."
"Four years." He finally raised his head, locking eyes with her. "If I don't surpass them by then, I give it four years before they kill me."
The weight of his words knocked all the air from her lungs. Gohan held her shocked stare, as if he hadn't just told her when he was going to die.
When he thought he was going to die, Bulma forcefully corrected herself.
"Why four years?" she couldn't help but ask, her voice a throaty whisper.
"Because in four years, Trunks will be fifteen. Fifteen was when my powers got a huge boost after I hit puberty, and suddenly I actually started causing them trouble and not just taking their beating. It's when they really started to have fun with me."
Her heart sank, dropping to the pit of her stomach. She didn't like where this was going. Bulma opened her mouth to stop him from going any further, but Gohan beat her to it and kept going.
"Four years," he said again, averting his gaze. "If I can't kill them by then, they'll get me first. Because by that time, Trunks will be strong enough to replace me as their favorite toy."
His words hung in the air – a death sentence. Gohan just proclaimed his own death sentence – killing any illusion she may still have for the future of her only son in the process.
An unexpected sob shook through her body. Bulma put her hand on her mouth to stifle the sound, but then another forced through, and then another. They just wouldn't stop.
Gohan looked up when he heard her crying, his eyes widening in panic and guilt.
"I… I'm sorry, Bulma. Don't cry, I'm sorry… I… I shouldn't have… Oh geez…"
She turned away from him and covered her face, as if to hide the shameful tears she couldn't stop. Gohan reached out to her, his hand hesitant as it neared her shoulder. Slowly, tentatively, he touched her back and brought her to him, wrapping his arms around her… hoping he could offer her some comfort.
"I shouldn't have said anything," he said, rubbing her back to try and soothe her. "I'm so sorry, Bulma."
"But you're right," she croaked out, hiccupping into his chest. "Once Trunks is strong enough, they're going to kill you. And then Trunks…" She sobbed again. "My little boy… he'll have to fight that awful war alone and deal with losing his best friend and it just… it just breaks my heart."
Gohan tightened his arms around the fragile mother, feeling his chest constrict harder with every sob forcing out of her tiny body. Guilt and remorse gripped at his guts and weighed down his shoulders as he tried to comfort his dear friend.
"It breaks my heart too," he murmured, his voice unstable, breaking. "You and Trunks… You're my family. I love you both so much, and I honestly don't know how I would've held on until now without you two." He heaved a sigh. "I'm so sorry I made you cry, Bulma. I wasn't thinking… I really need to learn to think before I act."
She laughed slightly through her tears and hugged him close, her sobs finally calming down. "No, don't change a thing, Gohan. It's all part of your charm, and you're perfect the way you are. And I love you too, by the way."
He cracked a smile, and they slowly pulled back. Bulma wiped her face with her hands and Gohan looked on with a pang in his chest. He hated that he had made her cry. Why did he have to go and say such depressive things to her? So what if the thought had been running around in his head over and over again? Bulma didn't deserve this. He shouldn't have burdened her with all that, especially with how it may affect her son's life. He shouldn't have said anything. Bulma didn't need to know. He should've just kept his mouth shut.
"You okay?" he asked gently, leaning his head to the side to catch her gaze. Bulma smiled at him fondly, but the light in her eyes was subdued and weak. She reached up and ran her hand through his thick black hair, nodding her head in response.
"Yes, I'm okay." A glint of determination suddenly lit up her blue eyes as she continued, "And you know what? Those bastards are not going to be around in four years, because we're getting rid of them. And if not with my ray, then we'll find another way. Dr. Gero may have been a genius, but I'm Bulma fucking Briefs. I'm the most brilliant mind of all times – and I will find a way. I always do. And you, Gohan," She held his face in her hands stared deeply into his eyes, "you're going to live a long, happy life – mark my word on that. And if you can't be with Videl right now, if she needs more time, if we're going to have to blast those monsters to oblivion first – fine. The best things in life are never easy to obtain, and Videl is worth the wait. Your happiness is worth the wait."
At these words, the heavy weight in his heart felt just a little bit lighter. Bulma was right. Videl was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and being with her had made him the happiest he'd ever been. She was worth the wait. She was worth everything.
For the first time in what felt like forever, a glimmer of hope started shining inside of him again. Yes, he just needed to bear with it and be patient. All he had to do was hold out in the meantime and stay alive. Not just for Videl, but for everyone he cared about – and especially for Trunks. Gohan silently vowed that he would do anything in his power not to let his little brother become 17 and 18's favorite toy in his place. Trunks was never to face them alone, no matter the costs.
"You're right, Bulma. In this world, we have to stay positive and optimistic. We have to hold on hope."
Hope may be a dangerous thing in their broken world, but it was also the only thing keeping them going, the only thing that gave them a purpose.
Gohan felt his heart tighten suddenly as he looked at Bulma, a woman he considered as a second mother; Bulma, his oldest friend, and one of the most important people in his life.
Videl didn't have that. She was all alone. Bulma was right about this too – Videl needed him. Yes, he had to give her time, and he was still decided to keep his promise to her this time, but now, Gohan saw things differently. He saw hope again. He wasn't alone in this war. Bulma's brain was the deadliest weapon in existence. If her invention didn't work, then the next one would, or the one after that. As long as they kept trying, as long as they never gave up and never stopped fighting, anything was possible.
They had four years to make it, give or take a few. And Gohan felt a new fire burn inside him.
He was the son of Son Goku, and damn it, he wasn't going down without a fight.