Having entered his room through the same door he'd broken open hours later, Gohan sat on the bed with a disassembled blue scouter to his left, and a disassembled Dragon Radar to the right. It was a pretty novel idea – put the Dragon Radar's sensors in the scouter and program it to function as a more portable version. He had stolen the radar's blueprints from Bulma's lab weeks earlier, making the process relatively simple; he was just about finished, in fact. The half-hour he'd spent assembling the radar was the most fun he'd had in weeks.

"Oh, you're back."

Gohan looked up to find Chi-Chi in the doorway. It was then that he noticed the heavy bags under her eyes, though they didn't hamper the smile on her face as she walked in. Gohan nudged away warily, less out of resistance to her and more out of fear of himself.

"It's okay, Gohan. You ain't gotta be nervous 'round me," she said as she sat down and observed his handiwork.

Gohan stared at the scouter and radar, lost on where to start. They hadn't really spoken yet; he could hardly even remember their last actual conversation. Probably checking in on his schoolwork. Though he tried to keep his eyes off of her and maintained focus on the scouter, he overheard her sniffles. Though he shuddered, he just buried himself deeper into the scouter.

Granted, it didn't work, because soon he looked up at her, puzzled. "What's wrong?" he asked in a hushed tone.

"You…you never stopped studyin', did you?" Chi-Chi said with a faint smile.

"Well, killing people gets boring after a while," Gohan absent-mindedly quipped, before quickly realizing what he said and cringing. He looked up, ashamed of the pale shade he wrought onto his mother's face. "Sorry, that-"

Chi-Chi dismissively waved her hand. "Don't. A lil' sarcasm here 'n there prolly keeps your head on straight."

She wasn't wrong. As Gohan screwed in a red device using only his fingers, Chi-Chi's smile grew. "God, it's like watchin' you the first time you finished a puzzle. I was so proud."

Gohan squinted, trying and failing to recall the occasion. With all of the age and experiences he'd undergone, Gohan's Earth memories had become fleeting, only hitting him at inconvenient moments. He was sure he had a bright smile that day, but he certainly had lost any concept of what that had even felt like.

Chi-Chi covered her mouth, trying to hold back a sob. "I'm just…so glad to see you back. My little boy. I was so worried…"

With a forlorn sigh, he dropped the scouter. "Whatever you were worried about is still true. These hands that finished that puzzle and are working on these little toys have ended millions of lives."

Nine years of no conversation with her and the first thing he had to were a few more servings of negativity. She folded her arms, as scarce for proper words as her son.

"Yeah…I've heard." Catching the audible disappointment in her voice, Gohan scratched at his bedsheets. "But Gohan-"

The half-Saiyan teen closed his eyes. "Whatever you're about to say, I've heard it already. It's not going to fix anything." After shutting the white case, Gohan picked up the blue scouter and turned it on, swiping at the screen. "Only one thing will, and that's all I'm really worried about right now."

He sat up from the bed, placing the scouter over his eyes. Before he leapt from the windowsill, he turned around to face Chi-Chi with a somber frown. "I'm…I'm sorry I'm not the kid you lost that day, mom."

"I know you're not. But no matter all the bad things those guys made you do, you're still my son." Every one of Chi-Chi's words were spoken with conviction, even as her voice shook. "I will never stop loving you."

Gohan's chest grew heavy. Love – a word he didn't feel worthy of. It was easy to say Vegeta, Raditz, Nappa, or Frieza made Gohan do all of those things, but he still made the choice to listen. Even from his own mother, the justifications rang hollow. He turned around and grabbed a red bag, ready to leave.

"Wait, Gohan."

He stopped, turning back around to face his mother, even if he didn't really look forward to whatever she'd try saying to soothe him.

"You ain't goin' go back out there lookin' like that, are ya?"

Gohan looked down, observing his torn-up outfit, specifically what was left of his shirt. It was ripped in half and exposed his bandage, burned chest. His eyes darted back to his mother, exasperated.

Chi-Chi laughed, apologetically cupping her chin and sighing. "Sorry, I can't help it! Look at me, we've talked for a whole minute and I'm already smotherin' you again."

Seeing his mother with a more relaxed smile actually calmed Gohan. As much as it somewhat annoyed him, she deserved to dote over her own son. But the rags were all he really had, save for whatever crap Bulma would have lying around in his size. Sensing his confusion, Chi-Chi pointed to the dresser across from Gohan's bed, where a replica of his outfit lay.

"As much as I hate seein' you look like that creep Piccolo, it'll hafta do," Chi-Chi said, getting up from the bed. She stopped once she reached the doorway, placing her hand on the doorknob as she prepared to give Gohan his privacy. "I know you've probably done a lotta bad, but the fact that you're out here fixin' it says a lot. Good luck, son."

Gohan groaned as he grabbed his fresh uniform. If only he believed it as much as everyone else did.

After changing and making sure the scouter could detect the Dragon Balls, Gohan flew from the windowsill. His Ki sensing gave him little use for the scouters, but their scanning capabilities and connectivity were state of the art, displaying up-to-date information about any planet he stepped foot on and connecting to the necessary satellites in case they ventured in unknown territory. Currently, his scouter was saying the nearest Dragon Ball was located on an eastbound island. As Gohan took off in that direction, however, he remembered something that had been stabbing at his mind for the last few hours. He turned around and flew back to Capsule Corp, entering the building in search of Bulma's Ki.

He found her in the kitchen downstairs, drinking coffee. "Bulma?"

Bulma put her mug down. "'Sup, kid? Is everything alright? Did Vegeta talk to you?"

"Yeah," Gohan mumbled, wishing people would stop worrying about him so much. He shifted uncomfortably, his face stiffening. "But, do you know where Lapis' sister lives?"

"Lazuli? Yeah. Her and Krillin live at…" Bulma suddenly stopped and gasped. She frantically looked back and forth, her eyes labored. "Um, well, they live at well, Master Roshi's island."

Gohan raised an eyebrow, unsure of both Master Roshi's identity and Bulma's growing awkwardness. "And where's that?"

"I can give you the location but, uh…you've been there before."

Gohan narrowed his eyes, taking a moment to discern Bulma's curious behavior. "I've…"

Island. Been there before. Of course.

Realizing exactly what she meant, Gohan clenched his teeth, suddenly wishing he could lose feelings in his legs and have an excuse to stay inside.

"I see…"

As Gohan turned away, Bulma nudged his shoulder. "I know that place is probably nothing but a bad memory, but I think confronting it might help. And more importantly, you owe it to his sister."

Gohan had been unconscious for it all, but he was sure Lazuli had been crushed by the loss of her brother. Probably wanted Gohan dead, too. At the very least, she, having never known him, wouldn't hit him with the usual line of bullshit platitudes to absolve him. Apologizing to Lazuli hadn't been much of a concern, but knowing where she lived was, to say the least.

But Bulma was right. Vegeta was right. He couldn't keep running from his troubles.

When Bulma let go, Gohan pressed a button on his scouter. "Just tell me where it is and I can track it with this."

"Gotcha. Look for a tiny island way northeast, GPS coordinates 69, 69. A little pink house."

"Got it."

"And wait, what about the Dragon Radar? You're gonna need that when you look for the balls, right?"

Gohan tapped the glass of his scouter. "It's in here now."

For a second, Bulma's face scrunched in confusion. Then it darkened. "Okay first of all, impressive; second of all, what the shit, dude? Now I'll have to build a new one."

Gohan merely shrugged with a mischievous smile that for once befit his youth. He ran out of the kitchen, giving her no chance to continue scolding him. Once out of Capsule Corp, he blasted off into the sky, following the coordinates to the island. The closer he got, his body grew colder in spite of the warming climate. Though he was flying over a simple open ocean that looked no different from any other area on Earth, the specific territory felt acutely familiar. The last time he had flown here, he had been wailing in Raditz's precarious hand. Those specific waves crashing beneath him had been among the last things he'd ever seen before being thrown into the Cold world.

The sound of seagulls grew louder, some even flying across his vision. A small land mass became visible, a sandy shore leading into grass and a small, pink house. Gohan felt his muscles stiffen as he halted his flight, staring at the house and the surrounding rocks. He could practically visualize his father on his knees with his arms reached out, yelling out to him. Bulma, a little bit younger and her hair shorter, panicking. Krillin and Roshi going back and forth between tending to Goku and looking up at Gohan helplessly.

After a deep breath, Gohan descended to the grass. Little muscles throughout his body trembled, the temptation to just fly away overwhelming. He observed his surroundings; the pink paneling of the house, a few rocks. A red crab crawled onto the shore; Gohan distinctly remembered trying to play rock-paper-scissors with one and being greeted with bubbles to his face. When Bulma asked him what he wanted to be when he grew up, he declared he would be a great scholar like a perfect wind-up toy.

And then there was the house. Evidently, the hole Krillin left in the wall courtesy of Raditz's tail had been repaired. They were all so weak – Krillin for being taken out by a tail, Goku from a kick. And there was he, the crying little boy, helpless while Bulma tried to protect him and Raditz picked him up.

With a feral growl, Gohan dug his foot into the grass. A sensation flickered in his lower back, sending a tremor through his entire body. He didn't know whether he hated Raditz more for ruining his life in that moment, or himself even more for being so pathetic. Vegeta had been right about one thing – he hadn't been prepared for a world that was ultimately under Frieza's thumb.

His tail grew stiff as that power swelled within him. It was the same feeling just before his rampage that left Vegeta a bloody carcass. Vegeta, Raditz…none of them could push him around anymore. What happened on the island was the last time Raditz ever had power over him.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry for throwing you into all this shit. You're too good for any of us."

The tremors in his body ceased as he remembered Raditz's last words before his sacrifice. For all of the shit Raditz, Vegeta, and Nappa put him through, they had done right by him in critical moments. That little reminder was the only spike strong enough to keep Gohan's anger restrained. Now, he had to do right by his own victims.

Gohan stepped to the door. He could feel a faint Ki signal; Bulma had mentioned that the twins still had a tiny bit of natural energy, after all. It felt distressed from grief. Faintly, he knocked on the door, bracing himself for anything.

When the door opened, Lazuli answered, dressed in just a wrinkled t-shirt and sweatpants. Her eyes were damp and red, bags under her eyes like Chi-Chi's. They were narrowed into slits upon seeing him, her blue pupils a pair of ice picks stabbing at him.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

If her eyes were cold, then her voice was an absolute zero. Only a few victims from purges had addressed Gohan so harshly. He had to stare at the wood floor just to keep his composure. He could see her fingers clench into fists.

"I…"

"Get out!"

She punched Gohan squarely in the jaw, knocking him over. The bag fell from his hands. Gohan had made no effort to defend himself. It hurt, and the landing made things worse with his body still sore. When he looked up, her angry gaze sent chills to the core of his body. She looked ready to dish out far worse.

"Where do you get off even showing your face around here?!" Her voice sent vibrations into the air as she screamed. "How dare you?!"

She talked towards Gohan with angry tears fuming. He got up to one knee and reached his arm out, a hapless attempt at restraint. "Please…I'm not here for trouble."

"Then what the fuck do you want?"

Gohan closed his eyes and exhaled. After dusting himself off, he stood up, trying to ignore the stinging sensation of his jaw. "I…" His eyes were still on the floor, but he realized that was a form of avoiding her. So he looked her into her eyes, a set the same shade as Arepa's.

"I'm not here to bullshit you about how I had no control over myself and how that makes things okay. I killed him, senselessly." He growled, his own fists tightening in anger over his animalistic outburst. "I killed him, I killed all of those people in West City, I've killed people all over the universe."

He slammed his foot on the floor, snapping the paneling, snapping Lazuli out of her rage. "It's all I ever fucking do. But I want to let you know that I'm gathering the Dragon Balls to bring Lapis back to life. It won't change what I did, but it will bring him back. I'm truly sorry, Lazuli."

A tear fell down Gohan's cheek. "I don't expect you to ever forgive me. You and your brother…you guys are the only people here who even relate to me and this is what I did. But I'll do whatever I can to bring Lapis back. I promise."

He turned around, ready to leave lest he risk inciting her anger any more than he already had. He flickered his Ki in preparation to take flight.

"Wait," Lazuli called.

Gohan turned around. With a sigh, Lazuli folded her arms and leaned against the wall, her eyes rapidly moving in search of something.

"I owe you an apology too," she said. "Krillin told me the long and short about what happened to you a while back. You're right. I definitely relate."

Just like Bulma would frequently do, Lazuli dug in her pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, placing one in her mouth. She chuckled, mirthlessly. "Lapis and I never killed anybody that we know of, but I'm sure more than a few people are walking funny now 'cause of our antics."

"A lot better than me, at least," Gohan grumbled.

As she lit the cigarette with just her finger tip, Lazuli shifted her weight and leaned with her back facing the wall. "It's weird, y'know? We live in a world where we can just undo all the bad shit with a magic dragon. Been crying for three days straight and he'll probably be back and pissing me off tomorrow."

"He will be."

Lazuli glanced at Gohan while a stream of smoke left her lips. "It sucks, doesn't it? Everyone telling you it's not your fault, when you're pretty sure it is."

Gohan watched as the smoke left her. He had resolved to stop smoking before he made the decision to try that transformation. It was just another way for him to wallow. Now, he craved it immensely.

"But like, you don't want it to be your fault either. Because it's not like you signed up to be a killing machine."

Gohan bit down on his lip, stopping himself from asking her for a cigarette. He gazed at the tides behind him instead. "This was actually where I was kidnapped."

"Huh," Lazuli snorted. "And you relived that shit just to say sorry."

He could see it again; another replay of Raditz striking Goku down, moments before he grabbed him. From that moment on, the choice of who Gohan would be had been made for him. Whether it was right or wrong, however, wouldn't change the reality. Gohan looked down at the glass of his scouter. The same tech he was using to aid his search was one of the many things forced on him in the Cold Force.

"Look, kid," Lazuli said with a sigh. "I'm not letting you off the hook. I've done bad shit as a minion with no real choice, I've done bad shit just coked out of my mind. But it was still bad shit that hurt people."

Gohan had not an ounce of disagreement.

"But if you actually had the balls to face me and you're trying to bring him back, then that shows you're like me and Lapis. You've still got a soul in there."

She had echoed his mother; hell, even Vegeta of all people. Gohan looked back into the scouter's lens; for once, they contained the right path for him.

Lazuli put her cigarette down on a nearby table, and turned towards Gohan with a stern expression. "But listen to me. It doesn't stop with my brother coming back. You better work out everything that's got you messed up, 'cause if this shit keeps happening, then eventually it really is who you are."

Gohan firmly nodded.

"You've got people who give a shit about you. Give them a chance to give you a chance."

As much as Gohan wanted to dismiss the notion, Lazuli wasn't wrong. Before he could even expect forgiveness from anybody, he had to find a way to forgive himself, too. He turned around and picked up the red bag.

"Good luck," Lazuli said. "And…thank you."

Gohan looked over his shoulder, gazing intently. "Keep your thanks until your brother's back."

A smirk crept upon Lazuli's lips. "Good deal."

Gohan left, flying in the direction of the nearest Dragon Ball. His trail took him to a city dense with skyscrapers as the signal on his scouter grew stronger. After coming to a stop, he floated down until he landed on a sign, one that read "Welcome to Orange Star City." In a purge, Gohan hadn't cared how conspicuously he landed into a city. Usually, he'd just destroy everything in one or two blasts. But on his home, he preferred not to stir much commotion.

The red light on his scouter led Gohan out west. He dropped down, deciding he would walk to the location amongst the sea of pedestrians, like a normal person. Or at least, as a normal as a wild-haired, scarfaced kid dressed like a Piccolo cosplayer could look. Everyone went about their business peacefully, as if unaware of the large-scale attacks that had hit cities in the last few weeks. Of course, Gohan got the impression that with Piccolo around, Earth citizens had gotten used to disaster.

Gohan's trek eventually took him to an entrance, a gate bound by two stone pillars and a sign above it bearing the word "SATAN." He raised an eyebrow, finding that an oddly ominous title. Behind the gate was a large mansion, built like some of the hubs for the shady clients Frieza dealt with. With a title like Satan, Gohan assumed he was encroaching on gang territory. They clearly had the Dragon Ball for a reason, meaning they wouldn't give it up without a fight.

When Gohan did a Ki sweep of the building, he was surprised to realize nobody was presently there; that made his job easier. Caring little for any of the passerby reactions, Gohan hopped over the gate and strolled down the front lawn. According to the radar and the scanner in his scouter, the ball was located somewhere upstairs, so Gohan raced to the back of the mansion and hopped up into one of the balconies. He nearly slipped when he landed, thanks to a puddle on the floor. A pipe on the paneling above the door had been leaking water. Gohan shrugged it off and forced the door open, entering the room and being immediately greeted by an alarm sounding off. Though startled, Gohan wasn't worried. He should've counted on a house like that being secured, anyway, and it wasn't like it was a threat.

It made his activity more urgent however, weary of any significant confrontation. He scanned his eyes past the extravagant bed and found a trophy case in the center of the room. There were championship belts, gold statues in the shape of fists, and emblems among other décor. Clearly, this was the room of a fighting champion; and clearly, this was a human who never encountered Gohan's father and his allies. On Gohan's right, there was a large picture hanging on the wall with a musclebound, buffoonish man with puffy hair, screaming with his fists raised. Gohan smirked – he actually looked like Nappa. But this Satan figure and his empty accomplishments were insignificant compared to the orange orb with two red stars resting on the top shelf.

The Dragon Ball. Not quite the one Gohan wore on his hat, but he immediately recognized it. From the "Orange Star Cup" label on the stone it stood on, the Dragon Ball had become a proverbial trophy to whomever discovered it after Goku had been wished back to life. Unfortunately for this "champion," it served a purpose far greater than some weak Earthling's bragging rights.

After finding a gold handle in the middle of the glass, Gohan swung it open and snatched the Dragon Ball away. He rushed out of the room so quickly he'd forgotten about the puddle in the balcony and stumbled right onto his face, dropping the Dragon Ball all the way down to the ground in the process. A few curses later, Gohan hopped over the railing and landed in the backyard, picking up the Dragon Ball to make his now irritable escape. He was about to blast off into the sky…

"Freeze!"

Gohan stopped and growled. Just what he needed. It was a girl's voice, loud and youthful.

"Who do you think you are, breaking into my house like that?!"

I guess I can calm her down, Gohan said to himself. He turned around…

…and the Dragon Bal fell from his hand.

The face. He could never mistake it in a million years. The eyes, crystal blue like icicles. Hell, she even had her black hair tied up into those silly twin ponytails that he secretly adored. All of the breath left his body.

"A-Arepa?!"

The girl scowled, folding her arms above her oversized white t-shirt.

"'Arepa?' My name's Videl, buddy."

Bulma typed away at her laptop in her lab. Figuring it was just a matter of time until Lapis was back to life and ready to resume experimentation, the blue-haired genius decided it was a great time to seize a breakthrough. Unfortunately, Gero's technology had left even her galaxy-sized brain at its wits' end. She'd hit a wall, wondering if she could ever crack the mad scientist's research or even conjure an alternative. She turned towards the end of her disheveled desk, looking at the motion capture devices; if only all the willing participants hadn't been up in the sky.

With an indignant folding of her arms, Bulma looked up at the ceiling. Where could she begin with this? Earth shouldn't have even been capable of the type of technology that could threaten people of Goku and Piccolo's power. Not even the strongest nuke had the energy to tangle with them; she'd even calculated it herself. Sure, the radiation poisoning would get them, but if the nuclear holocaust happened, all that would survive were cockroaches and those seven or so battle junkies.

But then, she remembered – the very business she ran was built off the back of technology her family had reverse-engineered from an alien spaceship. And not only that, but the big spaceship in the yard ran on alien technology. With Gohan out looking for the Dragon Balls and Vegeta incapable of doing anything but walking until the next batch of Senzu beans came around, she had ample time to take a deeper look into the technology and see what she could conjure.

Raring to sink her teeth into the gear, Bulma waltzed out of the compound and into the yard. To her surprise, the ship's ramp was already down. Her surprise quickly turned to horror, however, because Vegeta was laying at the top in a puddle of his own blood. She rushed to the top as fast as she could and raised his quivering body off of the steel. Judging from the trail of blood behind him, he had tried leaving and had gotten as far as he could before keeling over.

That idiot. He had been confined to his bed for the last two days and only just now was able to even limp, let alone walk. She was sure flying to Gohan and back had already taken enough effort.

"Vegeta, get up!" Bulma yelled, trying to shake him awake. His eyes drifted open, though he soon coughed blood onto the floor. "What the hell were you doing?"

"Th-The hell do you think?" Vegeta spat. "Only ten times gravity…couldn't even handle that."

"You were all but dead only three days ago, Vegeta," Bulma shouted, as furious as she was worried. The bandage on her arm was a reminder of what she had done just to keep him alive, which he was willing to waste. "You cannot keep doing this to yourself. You will die!"

Vegeta clutched her shirt and pulled her towards his face. Though barely conscious, his eyes were still fierce with conviction.

"Then let me die!"

Bulma felt her strength leaving her when she practically felt the pain in Vegeta's voice. A shudder came over her; when she examined him closely, she could see a tear from the corner of one of those surly, stubborn eyes. Through what could only be called strength of will, Vegeta got up to one knee even as he shook and hacked crimson.

"This is all I have…" The tear spilled down his cheek. "How could you ever understand?"

Bulma covered her mouth, at a loss. "Vegeta…"

"I forced a goddamn child to fight my battles…me, the prince. If I don't get stronger, then Frieza was right all along about me."

With the little bit of strength he had, Vegeta slammed his fists against the steel, drawing even more of his own blood. His body shook with sobs. They were different from Gohan's; his tears weren't out of anguish, but anger. He was right – she couldn't have possibly understood how worthless he probably felt.

With little thought, Bulma grabbed Vegeta by his shoulders and looked boldly into his withering eyes. Vegeta froze, complete bewilderment etched across his face.

"You will get stronger."

Vegeta's self-loathing glare softened. His eyes sunk, in search of an answer for what was happening. She had never seen him so vulnerable.

"I can say a lot of things about you, but weak is not one of them." With a chuckle, she added, "It's bad for you, how tough you actually are. You're going to get stronger, and Frieza and anybody who's ever fucked with you will pay."

Vegeta's eyes turned into a pair of blood-shot globes. If Bulma had to guess, almost nobody had ever spoken to Vegeta in such a way without it being for self-preservation. Or at least, not for a long time.

"But you have to let me help you. You're not in that world anymore. Over here, you can heal. You can recover. My mother probably gets on your nerves, but she'll fill you up with plenty of food." Vegeta clicked his teeth, which she translated as a concession. "I'll make sure you get exactly where you need to be and live to tell about it."

Vegeta blinked at her, considering her words. Though he scoffed, he lacked his typical harsh dismissal. "How would you even know where I need to be?"

A smirk crept up to Bulma's lips. "Well, we do have the same blood."

"Don't you dare." It was a warning, but Vegeta was smirking, too.

Bulma backed away from Vegeta and stood up. She reached her hand out in beckoning. The stubborn prince hissed in disgust, but Bulma chided him with a tilt of her head. Like a kid knowing he wouldn't get his way, Vegeta sighed and grabbed her hand, letting her help him up.

"I'd help you walk the whole way down too, but we've got a pressure washer working on the lawn later and they don't need to worry about cleaning up my blood too."

"I'm not sure if you're a genius, or a complete idiot."

"About 70-30, I'd say."

Now, Gohan was wondering if everything from his father's Kamehameha wave onward actually had been a dream. It was the only way to explain how this girl that may or may not have been Arepa was accosting him right now. She wore a nasty scowl, fully prepared to attack him.

"You just gonna stand there, or explain yourself?" Arepa…erm, Videl, demanded. She cracked her gloved hands together. "Or should I just beat an explanation out of you?"

Gohan tried speaking, but no words came out. All he could see was the feisty ally and friend that he missed terribly. Maybe she was just testing him? Was she going to laugh and call him a grouch any second, now?

Instead of laugh, she crouched into a fighting stance. "Beat it out of you, it is!"

When she charged at him and kicked him with comparative sluggishness, Gohan finally realized that it really was just a girl named Videl who had nothing to do with Arepa…that he knew of, at least. Even in his thrashed condition, he leisurely jumped out of the way. Observing her as she nearly stumbled onto the grass, he realized there were a few key differences. For one thing, she lacked the lip piercing, She was also a tad shorter and thinner, her arms nowhere near as toned and muscular. Being a year or two older, Arepa had been practically at eye level with him. And most importantly, what should have tipped him off to begin with – her voice. The raw sound was somewhat similar, but missing that absurd accent.

When Videl retained her balance, she looked down at the Dragon Ball below her. "Hey wait, you were stealing my dad's trophy!"

Gohan blinked in surprise. A girl as cute as her had come from that Nappa-looking idiot? Not that it mattered, of course. "That's not a trophy. You've never heard of a Dragon Ball?"

Videl picked it up and narrowed her eyes with warning. "I don't really care what you call it. I bet you're trying to pawn it off and get a payday, aren't you?"

"That would be stupid," Gohan dismissed. "But I really need it."

Videl raised an eyebrow. "If you're poor or something, then get a job instead of breaking into my dad's house. You were better off having the cops come here instead of me, 'cause I won't go easy on you."

Gohan smirked, chuckling like that was the best joke he had heard in years. Even her stubborn, irrational defiance reminded him of Arepa. "Is that so? Do you really think you can beat me?"

Upon being challenged, Videl squeezed the Drgaon Ball in her hand and indignantly growled. Her face went red in an instant. "Oh, I know so." She boastfully pointed to her own chest. "Maybe you're not from here, but I'm the daughter of Mr. Satan. He's a martial arts legend 'round these parts."

"Spooky."

When her veins swelled, Gohan had to fight back his laughter. "I'll wipe that smile off your face, prettyboy!"

Though the label briefly brought red to Gohan's cheek, he shook it off and maintain his confident demeanor. "Bet the Dragon Ball on it. If you're so sure."

Videl buckled in his presence, possibly reconsidering. Though a child, Gohan was acutely aware of the danger he exuded; his scar in particular did him no favors. After swallowing heavily in her throat, however, Videl shook off her nerves. "Fine! Just don't cry when a girl kicks your ass."

While Videl assumed another stance, the only pose Gohan took on was a nonchalant folding of his arms. Her hair practically rose like a devil's horns from her anger. Gohan's tail waved confidently behind him against the wind; and when Videl's eyes suddenly darted towards it, she recoiled.

"Is that…a tail?"

Gohan nodded, though without as much confidence. Around the universe, the tail was a universal signal that he was bad news; a threat, a monster, a-

"What kind of dork runs around with a tail taped on their ass?"

Or that, apparently.

Now Gohan was the one showing anger. As much as he lamented his tail and all of the pain it had caused him, as a Saiyan, he still took some pride in it. And he just wouldn't allow a weakling to insult him, period. "Just get on with it!"

Videl rolled the Dragon Ball into her left hand and pulled her right fist back. "It's your funeral!"

She raced towards Gohan and with all her might, swung a punch aimed right at his jaw. Gohan didn't even move out the way. When it connected, Gohan's head didn't move an inch. Meanwhile, Videl's hand folded like an accordion. Despite the clean break, Videl didn't have too strong a reaction, simply gasping.

Until she yelled.

"SON OF A BITCH!"

She dropped the Dragon Ball and clutched her wrist, falling to her knees while hurling streams of curses into the air. "Is your head made out of metal?!"

Though Gohan wanted to laugh, he mostly felt bad; even if it was just a little injury, he had brought more pain. He crouched down, observing her injury while she whimpered. Arepa she was not, as her wrist was twisted out of place just from punching Gohan.

"I can help," Gohan said, reaching his hand out. "Just-"

"Fuck off," Videl growled, startling Gohan. "I've still got my legs!"

Amazingly, she got up and swung another kick at Gohan, though he moved out of the way rather than risk injuring her again. Videl spun around and tried kicking him with the other leg, but Gohan avoid it with just one step forward. Videl stumbled but managed to break her fall by squeezing Gohan's tail with her good hand.

A paralyzing pain ignited in Gohan's body. He instantly fell to his knees, his strength leaving him. He should have long overcome this weakness, but apparently a new tail needed to be trained all over again. Videl's grip on his furry brown appendage loosened, but she caught onto Gohan's agony.

"Hold up…is this a real tail?" Videl shakily asked, still reeling from her wrist injury.

"God…dammit!" Gohan hissed.

"It's real…and it's your weakness!" Videl said with a gleam in her voice that let Gohan know she wouldn't be releasing her grip any time soon. With her boot, she rolled Gohan onto his back and then planted it triumphantly on his chest. He wanted to hate the arrogant smile on her face, but practically had to fight back his own smile. It truly was an uncanny resemblance, both in appearance, and spirit.

"Victory, thy name is Videl!" she boomed, though she stopped to wince and shake her wrist. "I'll be taking that ball back, now."

She removed her foot from Gohan's chest and picked the ball up with her good hand.

"Pretty strong, I admit, but you just couldn't cut the…fuck, that hurts!" Videl snarled at her twisted wrist. "Just get out of here before I call the real cops, asshole."

Videl marched to the back door, but grabbed the doorknob with her right wrist out of instinct and squealed with pain. Gohan sat up, feeling more sympathy towards her than disappointment about the Dragon Ball. He stood up and walked over to her.

"Hey…I'm sorry."

"Get away from me!" Videl shouted. Genuine fear, not anger, radiated in her eyes as she backed up against the door. Gohan's throat tightened, realizing that with his strength and persistence that he was very much a real threat to an ordinary human girl. He recalled something Arepa had told him a while back – how she thought about the girls that were just like her that she senselessly killed in her purges. Neither of them realized there was a girl literally just like her, apparently. And now she was regarding him with terror, like most of those girls did before their demise. He backed away.

"I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have broken into your house and taken your dad's property." Saying it, Gohan cringed from how familiar it sounded. "I'm sure he worked hard for it. But I can help your wrist."

Videl narrowed her eyes at Gohan, but also looked behind her, possibly hoping her father would show up. In shame, Gohan looked away and turned to the side. "I live with a rich family at the moment. I can go back there and pay you whatever amount of money you or your dad would take for that ball. But I really need it."

It was only when Gohan felt it drip from his chin that he realized a tear had spilled from his eye. Videl noticed it too, and looked back and forth between him and the Dragon Ball.

"What do you need this for?" she asked, softly.

"You heard about the attack from that…" Gohan gnawed at his teeth. "Monster in West City, right?"

"That big ape, right?"

"Yeah. That Dragon Ball in your hands is one of seven that can bring all of those people back to life."

Videl's eyes jolted in shock. "What? Are you making that up?"

Gohan sighed. In this situation, it wasn't worth the argument. "If you don't believe me, that's fine." His promises to Lapis and his sister, his memory of Kobe…they all brought a tear to his eye. "Some things…can't be fixed, I guess. I'm sorry I hurt you. I won't be bothering you again."

He dropped the bag and turned around, taking off into the sky with his eyes shut. Why did he break into the house? It was like his first instinct was to violate order and do things how he wanted. Even in fixing his damage, he disregarded other people for his own goals.

"Hold on!"

Gohan froze and turned around. Videl looked up at him with her mouth agape in awe.

"You can fly?!"

He nodded. So much for inconspicuous.

Videl waved her hand, beckoning him towards her. "Get back down here, dude!"

Dejected, Gohan listened and floated back down. She stared at the Dragon Ball, rotating it in her palm. "Now that I think about it, I remember one of my history classes talking about the King Piccolo attack from 20 years ago. A bunch of people got killed and came back a couple of days later. They even said a kid with a tail who competed in the World Martial Arts Tournament stopped him. You must be his son, aren't you?"

"…Yeah."

"Well shit man, if you can fly then I sure believe you now," Videl said, jubilation high in her voice. "How old are you, even?"

Calmness washed over Gohan, her smile putting him at ease. "Thirteen, I guess."

Videl doubled over in shock. "Seriously?! Hell, I'm turning 14 in a month and you look like you've been through serious grown man shit to be this strong," she marveled.

Gohan rolled his eyes with a sour smile. 'Grown man shit,' indeed.

"This means a lot to my father," Videl said, smiling weakly at the Dragon Ball. "But if it'll help bring those people back, then you can have it. And I'm pretty sure it might not go so well for him if he tried to fight you for it."

She gladly presented the ball to Gohan, and Gohan gladly took it. He was still halfway certain he had been dreaming all this. "Thank you. I really appreciate it."

"You are one polite home invader," Videl said with a coy smile that made Gohan look away. Yup, he would be waking up any time now. He turned around and took off, this time with what he needed…at least until he woke up, of course.

"Wait!" Videl shouted again.

"What?" Gohan asked with a hint of impatience, turning back around. Her admiration had left the building and anger had taken its place while she pointed at her injured wrist. Mimicking his father, Gohan scratched the back of his shaggy hair and dropped back down. Her wrist had already started to swell and develop a purple shade.

"Just stand still, alright?" Gohan instructed. Videl nodded, although she had a pitch of fear in her cheeks. Carefully, Gohan grabbed her hand, and in one swift motion popped it back into place.

"FUCK!" Videl screamed it loud enough to pop Gohan's ear drums. After Gohan let go, she examined her wrist, clawing her fingers in and out in amazement as she felt the pain dull. "Huh, that actually worked."

"You should still get it checked out," Gohan advised. "Otherwise, it'll just snap again."

"Right, right," Videl said as she shook it a few times. "Thanks, dude."

Gohan nodded. He was going to turn around, but could tell from the way she stared at him that she wanted to say something else. He stayed, waiting for her to speak up.

She blushed, twisting her fingers through one of her twin tails. Gohan chuckled; she was like Arepa in certain respects, but in many ways different. Arepa was anything but bashful.

"Could you, maybe…teach me how to fly?" She quickly swung her hands up. "Not right now! But like, later? Next week? Maybe throw in a movie, too?"

Gohan chose to ignore the last part and shook his head. "I've got too much on my plate for that." Seeing the disappointment hit Videl's face, he backpedaled. "But if you want to get stronger, then seek out some of the other martial artists of the world. You should know how to properly protect yourself…" From people like me, he finished in his mind. But not just him, but the impending invasion. He wouldn't dare mention it, not wanting to fill a normal person his age with fear for her life…any more than he already had minutes earlier.

"Too busy living out an actual kung-fu movie, I guess," Videl grumbled with a meek smile. "Worth a shot. But I will. I'll be flying in no time."

She was nothing if not ambitious. Gohan took a deep breath. "It's been…interesting meeting you, Videl. You remind me of a friend, actually."

"…She could kick my ass, couldn't she?"

"Yup," Gohan replied, smirking. He turned around with a hand raised in salutation. As he flew away, he could hear her yelling goodbye. The orange ball and its red stars glistened in his eyes. Two stars, like the tails in Videl's hair…or two girls galaxies apart who just so happened to look nearly identical. If this was a dream, then maybe Gohan was getting a reminder of why he needed to not only fix his problems, but fight. It wasn't just for the girl that had his heart way out in the universe, but the ones like her on his big, blue home planet. For everyone.

He flipped through his scouter, in search of that insignia. Thanks to the dual scanner, she'd always be reachable as long as she wore a scouter over her eye and didn't block her signal. "Arepa?"

Gohan waited with bated breath.

"Gohan?"

There was that accent – "British," apparently. A smile insanely hit Gohan's lips. They hadn't gotten to her yet.

"If you're tryin' to get an update on Freezypops, then no dice," she said. Gohan cringed at the nickname.

"I actually just had a question."

"GOHAN of all people just chattin'? Shoot me."

"Did your father look like Nappa, but with puffy hair?"

"What the fuck made you wonder THAT?"

"Just answer it," Gohan whined.

"Well, no. He actually looked like Raditz."

Gohan's lips curled back in disgust. Of course he did.