Dragon Ball Next Generations 0

Chapter I: Fire

The Fiscalinis lived in a big house in the country in America. They had no neighbors within a couple of miles of them. The house was surrounded on three sides by massive pine trees, and on the remaining side was farmland. The farmland faced the back of the house. The front of the house faced a big hill, which had no trees on it until the peak. It was from the top of this hill that a five-year-old Dominick saw his home in flames.

Something urged him to run toward the flames. It could have been that his entire family was trapped within those red, hot, demonic flames. But it was likely something else. Like something was pulling him there. Before he knew it, he was already running. Toward the flames it was getting hotter. Something was off about the flames. Dominick's five-year-old conscious mind couldn't detect it, but his subconscious sure did. With Saiyan blood running through him, no matter how little of it there was, his instinct put him on guard.

The flames hadn't reached his front door. He was able to enter the house. He ran in the door and straight to the kitchen. He knew that's where they were. His mom, Jeannie, and his three-year-old brother, Dalton were standing in standing near the telephone near the sliding glass door that entered the backyard. Dominick stood completely still across the kitchen from his mom and brother. They stared at him for a while, too.

Suddenly, his mom screamed, "Why did you come back here?!"

The question went right over his head. "Where's dad?" He asked.

"Take your brother and run!" She yelled at him. Dalton suddenly started running to where Dominick was and grabbed his hand. "NOW!"

Dominick was scared of his mom, so he obeyed. He was scared of everything going on. He and his brother ran. It felt like forever to the front door. But it was only about five seconds. When they got there, Dalton ran out the door, but Dominick stood frozen in the doorway. He'd come back to the house for a reason, even if he didn't know what it was. "Run." He told Dalton. "Go to the top of the hill."

"But-" Dalton protested. Dominick shoved him out of the house and he fell to the ground. As Dalton began to cry, Dominick back up into the house. Then the flames reached the front door. The hallway collapsed between Dalton and Dominick: a wall that would separate them for the next six years.

Sniffling, Dalton ran to the top of the hill, just like his brother told him to. He now stood where Dominick stood, watching the flames further engulf his home. Suddenly, an explosion occurred. Dalton saw the explosion. He didn't know how it happened, nor did he have time to think about it. The shockwave hit just seconds later. Dalton was standing in front of a tree when it hit. It blew his three-year-old body backwards and he hit his head on a protruding root, losing consciousness instantly.

"Seriously, dude." Dominick said. He was on the phone with his best friend, Nagashi. "No, she's definitely cute. No, I don't think she knows I exist yet. Her name's Ichimei. She's in my class. I see her at lunch sometimes, too. I'm not sure she has many friends. We should invite her to hang out with us." He was walking down the street away from the city. His house was west of the city, and he was exiting the east side, which meant he'd had to cross the entire length of the city to get to where he was. "I'm going to some dojo on the outskirts of the city. Yeah, I know. It's about time. I don't know. I heard the instructor is really really strong. He's been around for a while, yeah. He was friends with my ancestors, I think. Oh, wait, I think this is it." There was a little dojo across the street from a gas station. It looked pretty run down. There was no sign out front, nothing. It was just a little red and white building just on the eastern outskirts of town. "Yeah, I've got to go. I'm here." Dominick hung up the phone and gulped as he stared at the building. He closed his eyes as he scouted for strong power levels. He didn't sense any.

His dad died in that fire when he was five, and no one knew where Dalton went. He didn't really remember the fire. He saw Dalton start running, then he started running back into the house, then he vaguely remembered something falling on his back, then the next thing he remembered, he was no longer inside the house. He was just outside with his mom, and all that remained of his house was a bunch of ashes. He had no idea how he'd gotten there, and his five-year-old brain didn't want to comprehend it either.

Growing up without someone to train him, he had to figure it out for himself, mostly. He knew before the fire that he was especially strong. His dad had already taught him how to fly. After his dad's death, and once he was old enough, around age nine, he began searching around for answers as to why he was so strong. He found limited information in libraries. He didn't want to ask his mom because he was afraid she would be mad. Then, one day, he went searching through his mom's drawer while she was out. He found something with his dad's name on it. What was on it was beyond his comprehension at the time. All the events, all the lore, passed down through generations by word...all written down in this book. It wasn't just his dad's name, either. There was his grandfather's, and his great grandfather's as well. Apparently, four generations ago, his ancestor moved to a small peninsula in the central land. Then, in the next generation, they moved to the western continent. That's where their old house was. That's where the fire was. Now, they lived in the eastern continent. That's where their family had lived as far as the writing went back. It went back eight generations. There was a name that stood out to him. "Goku." Well, it showed up twice. There was a "Goku Jr." as well. Also, the word "Saiyans" showed up multiple times as well.

In that book, Dominick taught himself everything about fighting. Everything he was interested in learning, at least. It was three things, mainly. First, he taught himself the legendary Kamehameha. It wasn't too hard. The book said Goku learned it within a week. It took Dominick the same amount of time. Next, he taught himself how to read energy. He wasn't very good at it, and eventually he got frustrated and said "good enough." Lastly, and the one he spent the entirety of the two years learning, was the technique "instant transmission." He only spent so long learning it because he thought it looked so cool. His fighting experience came from sparring with trees in the backyard. There were no more trees in the backyard, anymore.

Now he stood right in front of the red and white building on the outskirts of town. Why am I stopping here? Just go in. And he did. It didn't look like a dojo at all. It looked more like the waiting room to a doctor's office. There was a bunch of couches, a front desk, and just to the left of the front desk, there was a hallway with a single door at the end. There was a girl working at the front desk. Dominick assumed he should go to her to check in. She couldn't have been older than sixteen.

"Can I get your name?" She asked. She had long black hair that fell straight down her back and bangs cut off just above her eyebrows.

"Dominick Fiscalini." He responded.

"Oh, a second Fiscalini?" She smiled. "I thought that wasn't a popular last name."

Dominick looked down and quickly looked back up. "No, it's not common at all." He said. "Where's that other Fiscalini?"

"He's in the back, with the instructor." She told him.

"How long until I go back there?"

"You're next." She told him. "Not a lot of people come around here, anyway. That other Fiscalini comes around a lot, though."

As if on cue, the door at the end of the hallway opened. Dominick peered past the wall and at the boy exiting the door. The boy was wearing all black; a black t-shirt and black loose jeans. His brown hair was not quite as long as Dominick's and was straighter, but fell down on both sides of his face in a similar fashion. His blue eyes were just a shade grayer than Dominick's. What stood out the most was the light turquoise colored cape flowing behind his back. It started in a sort of bushy material around his neck that resembled a scarf, then flowed down to around his ankles.

"Since he's done, you can go back there now." The girl behind the front desk said.

Dominick turned and nodded to her. "Thanks." He walked down the hallway, and as he passed the boy, his spine tingled. They both looked at each other out of the corner of their eyes for just a split second before continuing on their way. What was that? The kid seems so familiar.

Dominick opened the door that the boy had just walked out of. He entered a small room with just a black foam mat on the ground, and mirrors covering the walls. The man that stood in front of him appeared to be an alien. With green skin, pointy ears, and two antennae sticking out of his forehead, there was no way he was from this planet.

"You must be Dominick." The man said. "I've been eager to meet you, as you have the same last name as my pupil."

"And you must be Piccolo." Dominick replied. Piccolo's eyes widened a little. "You're in some of the old pictures in my dad's book."

Piccolo smiled. "You know your stuff."

"You fought against the legendary Frieza, right?"

"Yeah, with Goku himself."

"Goku is my ancestor. I've been training to be as strong as he was." Dominick claimed.

"You seem pretty young." Piccolo told him. "But I've seen younger kids capable of a lot."

"Let me show you." Dominick widened his feet. He generated some wind through the energy he was creating, then his hair flew up in all directions, turning golden.

Piccolo took a step back, then slowly crossed his arms. "Very impressive. A Super Saiyan at your age is nothing to laugh at, especially since the density of Saiyan blood has diminished so much over the years."

"I've been able to do this for a couple of years." Dominick told him. "But I want to take it to the next level."

"Yes. I remember Gohan was about your age when he ascended to Super Saiyan 2." Piccolo muttered. "Come back tomorrow. I'll have a training partner for you. Then we can see what you're really capable of."

"Yeah, that sounds good." Dominick powered back down to his base form and walked back out the door. He walked back through the hallway, nodding to the young lady at the front desk, who smiled back at him. He then noticed that the boy who he passed in the hallway earlier was still in the room, sitting on a chair and reading a book. The other Fiscalini.

Dominick walked toward the door, which was right next to the chair the boy was sitting in. As he approached, the boy looked up from his book and eyed Dominick. He stopped right in front of the boy. The two stared at each other for what felt like hours, but was really just about ten seconds. Suddenly, the boy stood up inches away from Dominick. He was tall for how young he looked, but so was Dominick. "Do you know who I am?" The boy asked.

Dominick swallowed carefully. "There's only one person you could possibly be...but that's impossible. No one has seen him since…"

"Since the fire?" The boy finished the sentence for him. "I survived the fire. You pushed me out, remember? I thought I was the only one that survived."

Dominick's eyes widened. "You are Dalton."

"Yeah." He said. The two of them stood in silence for a little. "Did Mom and Dad survive?"

"Mom did." Dominick told him. "Dad didn't."

"Is that so?" Dalton muttered. "Well, I'll have to come by and visit sometime."

"I'm headed back right now." Dominick said. "You'll come live with your family, right?"

"I live with my master, now." Dalton replied. "He's taught me everything I know."

"But…"

"Just go home. You'll see me again soon." Dalton rolled his eyes and sat down to read again.

Dominick looked down at his younger brother for a while, then finally decided to walk out the door and go home. He had school the next day, anyway.