"You think this is gonna work?"
"You think I would be doing this if I didn't?"
"It's just that, well...it sounds nuts. Like actual crazy talk."
"Yeah well, we don't get a lot of choices anymore."
"Still, it just sounds nuts."
"Stop complaining and help me move this damn box," Gald spat.
Zotl made a face before holding onto the opposite side of the wooden box and carrying it to the side where the light touched. Gald had made it very clear that no one should know where the warehouse was, no one except him and Zotl. He didn't feel lucky at all, he felt unlucky if anything.
Gald was an old man. Looked around sixty-something with silver hair and a thick gray beard but he dressed extremely well. He gave off that look of wealth and power. While Zotl was barely twenty-three and even if he was muscular he wore worn-out shorts and a cheap shirt.
They had carried the box to the table full of tools. It was quite messy and the box was old and worn out. Zotl looked skeptical.
"Do you even know if it's true? The story?"
Gald scoffed. "I don't know and I don't care. If there's hope to stop that idiot that keeps killing our men, I'll take it."
"But magical balls that grant any wish if one collects all seven? Sounds pretty weird and nuts to me," Zotl sighed.
Gald looked at him. Then, he looked at the box and took the crowbar from the table. "Do you remember a few years ago when those two guys came to earth in a weird sphere-alike plane or some shit?"
"Yeah, it was the event of the century."
"Do you fucking think they weren't nuts? This fucking world it's nuts and there must be some truth to the stories. That man, that vigilante is fucking alien or some bullshit. You've seen how he leaves our men. Even the fucking police don't know who the fuck he is!"
Okay, he was getting mad. Zotl needed to shut his mouth and just listen. "But if we can get any wish granted, why not wish for the vigilante to die or something like that?"
Gald sighed frustrated. He broke the lid of the box and opened it. After taking all the unnecessary pieces of paper out of it, he smiled at what he had left. It was a rectangular, wooden chest box. Ancient and out of their world. The writings in it could tell you as much.
"Because, idiot, you don't see the bigger picture."
"Which is?"
"It's no use to wish for that. Even if we get some peace, where's the ambition? This," he motioned at the chest box. "This can make us the true rules of the world! We can do whatever we want and no one will be the hero. Finally, we can fuck that stupid of Hercule."
"What's in it anyways that made you spent half the organization's money in it?" Zotl didn't see anything special in the chest box, just something one could find in a trash can.
"There's this story, it says that a great being was trapped here because he was too powerful for anyone to stop. I don't know how or why it got here but I finally got it."
"And you believe in such thing?"
"I saw two aliens come out of spaceships and a fucking android take out the damn army, yes, I believe in this."
He had a point.
"So, our wish for that dragon will be what?"
"To control that creature. Then, we could find the vigilante and give him a taste of his own medicine," Gald laughed. "Oh, I can see it now, we'll be rich and powerful and no one will be above us! We'll be gods amongst mortals!"
"Okay, so what do we do now?" Zotl sighed. It was too fucking early in the morning and all he wanted was to go to sleep.
"We find the dragon balls."
"Do we even have any idea where the hell they might be?"
Gald shrugged. "I have one coming in a shipment in a few weeks. The rest, I know where they are, trust me."
Zotl didn't trust his boss at all. But he shut the fuck up for his good and stared at the box. He didn't like what they were going to do.
But he had no other choice.
"Damn, nerd, what the hell happened to you?" Sharpener's voice rang out.
Gohan gave him a humorless laugh as he sat down, he'd had a shit night with no much sleep. On his fourth day of school, he had found himself at the beginning of a routine. Go to school, try to stay awake, tolerate Sharpener's jabs, Erasa's tries at humor and Videl's interrogations, eat lunch with them, and go home after the last periods of school. Once in a while, some policemen asked Videl to help them with something, which was dumb. Of course, though, not many things stay consistent in his life, and his fourth day was proof of that.
Erasa gasped concerned while from the corner of his eye, he could see Videl frowning suspiciously.
"What happened, Gohan?" The blonde asked, tone laced with worry.
The 'thing' that both Sharpener and Erasa had been so kind to ask for details was the bruise on his right side of the face. It was of purple and bluish color and it covered from the downside of his ear to his jaw bone.
"I got a bruise."
"No shit, but how? I don't see you as someone who gets into fights," Sharpener said.
"You would be surprised."
What had happened was the result of a mild sparring match with his little brother. After losing control, Gohan had decided, again, to stop training for a while. Two weeks and a few days had passed when Goten asked him if he could train for a few. Training with Goten wasn't rocket science, the kid couldn't fly and his attacks were as basic as they could be, it was mostly some punches and kicks which Gohan evaded or caught rather easily.
Goten, albeit, was a very talkative kid. It amazed Gohan how he could talk so much and still punch well. When he was his age, the only words he squeezed between jabs and punches and kicks were groans of pain. His little brother's excitement was palpable and contagious, Gohan found himself often laughing or replying to his childish remarks. Teaching Goten was one of the few things he enjoyed out of fighting, the kid didn't want to get stronger for the sake of getting stronger, he wanted to learn as well.
And that was the context of how he got the bruise.
Gohan was catching all of Goten's punches, the kid was in no rush to land a hit on his brother and was talking about nature, Mister Piccolo's odd meditation techniques, and more. At some point, Gohan's mind trailed off and auto-pilot kicked in, now that he went back, he supposed it was because of his late nights. His ears, however, picked up some words coming out of his brother's mouth.
Maybe you can teach me how to fly! And I'll get to call you Master Gohan like you all call Master Roshi!
Gohan lost his concentration at that moment and failed to catch or evade Goten's punch. The kid had a good arm, that was given, and Gohan was left with a bruise on his face and a small clicking sound of his jaw whenever he bit into something. He wasn't that angry about it, he knew the bruise would heal relatively quicker than most. When his mother had demanded what made him lose his focus, Gohan merely shrugged and said he had seen a peculiar bird on a tree.
"So, you got in a fight?"
He cringed. "I was riding my bike and I fell. I got distracted by a bird."
Sharpener's laugh was the next thing he heard. "Damn, nerd, remind me to never take you biking with me."
"I'm still waiting for my phone, blondie."
He still didn't consider these people as his friends, and he believed that they didn't consider him either (except Erasa but that girl seemed to consider everyone a friend) yet their company was tolerated and even if they didn't push too far, welcomed.
"Do you know how to ride a bike?" Videl asked.
Gohan looked at her. She was really beautiful, he had to admit, but every time she saw him with those eyes, those judgemental eyes (who did she think she was to judge him?), a low fire burned in the pit of his stomach. Anger. He gulped that feeling and smiled. He wasn't her enemy, even though it usually felt like it.
"Where I live there's a lot of rocks, and I was distracted."
"By what? A bird? Must've been a really rare bird to get that bruise."
And I'll get to call you Master Gohan.
"It was a real nice one too. Though perhaps not worth the bruise," he grumped.
Goten hadn't understood why his brother didn't evade his punch, to him Gohan was the strongest man in the world. What distracted him? His older brother had used the same excuse that he used with everyone, Goten had smiled his childish smile and asked where the bird went, Gohan had pointed a direction out of the blue and before he could stop him, Goten was running off that direction.
I wonder how he is doing. Hopefully alright, Kami knows he needs it.
"Earth to Gohan!"
He snapped out of his thoughts and looked at Erasa who had called him, she pointed at her book and then at the front of the class. Oh, right, school, fuck. Gohan looked at the English teacher, she glared at him impatiently.
"Mister Son, are you back with us? And may I ask what happened to your face?"
"I fell riding my bike, I got distracted by a bird."
He heard the snorts and chuckles of his classmates.
"It must've been quite a bird, Mister Son" her tone made it pretty clear she didn't believe him at all.
He shrugged. "It was, and Gohan would be alright-"
"Page 200, Mister Son."
He looked at his book. Why the fuck did they have to read and study poetry? It wasn't like any of them would become poets. Sharpener would be lucky if he got to graduate high school, Erasa could get with a rich dude, and Videl, well she had her whole life set since the moment her father landed the killing blow on Cell.
He read the damn passage, and as he read it, his face turned into a frown. Perhaps he hated poetry because it seemed that it could link to his life. Anything nowadays reminds him of something that happened to him. He managed to read it, gave a small smile to the teacher and sighed. He yawned and a crack was heard coming from his jaw.
Goten is damned powerful, at his age, I don't think I even managed to land a punch on Mister Piccolo, or dad.
"Who can tell me what this poem is about?"
Erasa raised her hand, Gohan groaned internally, if the teacher focused on her, then he wouldn't be able to doze off for a few minutes.
"A person talking to their best friend, missing them perhaps."
"And what makes you think that?"
"This passage," she read. "Remember, our friendship was eternal when we were children against the storm."
"And what makes you believe the person is missing his friend?"
Gohan rolled his eyes. It didn't take much effort-much anything to see that the whole thing was a depressing matter. Why is the person missing their best friend? Oh, well, perhaps because of that same passage? The teacher already knew the answer, he already knew the answer, why bother?
"The person is literally talking to the friend, but the best friend doesn't remember. The passage but no, you don't remember anything anymore makes it pretty clear."
Videl's voice rang out.
Of course, the 'detective' would know. And by the look of the teacher, she hit the bull's eye.
"Or maybe the friend is simply dead," Gohan spoke. "And the person is remembering the adventures or whatever they had with their friend, talking to them as if they're still here."
The English teacher nodded. "And why do you think that, Mister Son?"
He scoffed. "The words literally after the passage Miss Videl read are and I don't believe in ghosts. The friend doesn't remember anything and the person doesn't believe in ghosts, kinda tells ya, doesn't it?"
"You think that?"
"Well, yeah, it would make it more poetic. Makes it sadder too, and I guess poets and writers like to write sad stuff."
Sharpener snorted a laugh. Gohan smirked.
"You're right, it makes it sadder. A story of someone who can't let go of a friend long gone, and who tries to get that back but hits a wall. Especially when the author makes it clear those two had a really special bond. Right?"
"The friend might be alive but he's just not the same friend the person had in the beginning, and it makes them sad," Videl said.
"So, a metaphor. The and I don't believe in ghosts is a metaphor. The friend is not dead but he turned into a ghost of who he was with that person."
Gohan chuckled. The teacher was so happy about finding a metaphor in the poem. The stereotypical image of an English teacher trying to find the hidden meaning of everything popped in his head.
"Makes it sadder than just death, doesn't it?"
Was Videl competing with him in English class? By Kami, that girl was annoying as hell.
"Every author tries to give a message to their work, after all, every piece of literature has meaning, their literary intent, it can be about addictions, or grief, something people can't let go of easily."
The three people who sat at his side, looked at Gohan when the teacher said 'addiction'. Gohan stared at them back, being really conscious that he reeked of cigarettes. "Why are you guys looking at me like that?"
"Why do you think?" Sharpener smiled.
"I don't know, want to tell me?"
"Mister Son," the teacher's tone made Gohan sigh. "Have anything to add? What do you think is the literary intent of this poem?"
He faced the board. He shrugged. "Beats me. I don't know, but if I had to guess, well whatever version of what Videl and I said. It can be a person missing their dead friend or missing who their friend used to be. Whichever makes it sadder, hell, maybe even both."
"How the hell would that even work?" Sharpener snorted.
"I don't know. Poetry, I guess."
"Have any of you been in that position? Of the person who misses what someone used to be? Or who can't let go of the idea of them?"
Oh, sure, ask the rich kids who are so disconnected from reality if they've ever experienced some sort of pain which isn't ridiculous.
A dude with glasses and a cap raised his hand. "My girlfriend broke up with me and I didn't take it well. Took more than I would've liked to move on."
"May I ask, how did you let go?"
"Time, I guess. And getting drunk with my friends," he laughed.
They didn't know. They didn't know how it felt. A part of him, the still hopeful part of him was glad they didn't know while the other part of him, the one who got him killing bad people, hated it. Why should he be the one to know? Why should he be the one to carry that feeling?
I'll get to call you Master Gohan.
If Goten only knew what he had brought back when he said those words. He would laugh, certainly, he would. And in his laughter, Gohan would smile. Goten had the gift of making things that would be depressing, be less depressing. His childish perception of life, that innocent outlook contrasted his brother's more depressive and pessimistic perception.
Fucking hell, wherever he went, something from his past fucked his present. He felt guilty, guilty of forgetting him for a while. He probably never did, even as a child, Gohan saw the looks he gave him, of longing and nostalgia. Sure, it was hard being the person missing who your friend was, but being the friend was worse. How to be the person he wanted?
He wasn't. And they both knew that, though it didn't make it any easier.
"Today we'll learn about literary intent..."
Gohan sighed and placed his head on the table. He could doze off for a few. English was a nice subject, yeah, but right now, literary intent wasn't something he found himself interested in. "Wake me in a few."
"Mister Son, can you be so kind to read the next passage?"
Or not.
Groaning, he lifted his head from the table, smiled at the teacher who was frowning at him, then nodded. "With pleasure." He extended his arm inwardly and a loud crack was heard. He quickly grabbed his shoulder and groaned in pain. "Actually can I go for some ice?"
"Sure, sure," the teacher said.
He could see from the corner of his eye how Videl was glaring daggers at him but he said nothing. It would be good to have some rest, and after all, he already knew all of that. It would just be more boring to hear it for the hundredth time.
Just some fifteen minutes tops. With luck, his guilt would leave.
'Master Gohan'.
I was never his master, to begin with, I was just a damn child who was amazed by everything, his master was long dead when he met me.
"I'm not going to eat with you guys today."
"Why?"
"Because."
"Because why, Gohan?"
"Yeah, nerd, why?"
"Do I seriously need to explain myself every time?"
"Yeah, kinda, we are responsible for you, little headband."
"Shut the fuck up, Sharpener."
Lunchtime came around, and Gohan had stopped outside the school and announced he wasn't going to eat with them, which brought mixed reactions. Erasa was curious as she wanted to know it was because of them. Sharpener was smiling as if he had uncovered a deep dark secret, and Videl had brought on the questioning.
Gohan brought a cigarette to his mouth, lit it up with the zippo and sighed. "As you might have noticed, you guys are rich."
At the moment, he knew that Sharpener's dad was a business partner with Hercule Satan, which meant he was pretty set in his life, then Erasa's parents worked in a company (not as rich as Capsule Corp but coming in fourth place) and well, Miss Videl was the daughter of the man who saved the world.
Meanwhile, Gohan was the son of a dead man.
"No, shit," Sharpener snorted. "But we love you all the same."
"And you might've noticed I'm not rich, at all."
"Your point?"
Gohan exhaled the smoke through his nose. "In the nicest way possible, you guys go eat at places where the most I can afford is a fucking churro. And that would be like fifteen bucks. And I don't have that much money, so, I'll eat somewhere I know I can afford it."
"We'll eat with you," Erasa said.
"What?"
"Yeah, I mean, you're right, we go places you can't afford but you didn't say anything and tolerated it. So, let us return the gesture."
"Why do you say we, like who's we?" Sharpener interfered.
Videl elbowed him right in the ribs. "Us. That's the we."
Gohan couldn't help but look slightly surprised at Videl's action, which she shrugged. "We're not assholes."
Could have fooled me.
"Besides," she added. "We could use the change of scenery."
Erasa perked up. "So, where is it?"
Gohan felt, once again, too self-conscious for his liking. He didn't expect them to want to go eat with him. He expected them to just leave him alone. Now, where he wanted to eat wasn't bad, or poor but it was in a part of town where he knew they had never been. And Kami only knows how Glen would react at meeting them. There was also the issue of getting there, Gohan was going to fly or sprint but with them, he would need a car.
"Have you been to the south side of the city?"
"Nope."
"There's a south side-I'm kidding, I'm not that stupid."
"Yes."
Well, of course, Miss Videl knew the south side of the city, she was a detective or something like that. She was supposed to know all of the city.
Gohan shook the ash from his cigarette. "Okay, well, it's there."
"That's somewhat far from here, you would've needed a car."
No shit. "Does any of you have a car?"
Sharpener scoffed. "Of course we do, Gohan, my dude. Mine is parked two blocks from here."
Gohan was about to give him some stupid remark about forgetting their parents were wealthy and how stupid of him it was to ask that reasonable question but he limited himself to take a drag from his cigarette.
"Do you know the address?" Erasa asked.
"I know how to get there."
"Do you have a license?" Videl crossed her hands.
That, he did not have. Why the hell would he need a driver's license when he could fly or sprint to get where he needed? His mind went to that day his father and Mister Piccolo got theirs, a small smile formed at the memory of his father speeding like there was no tomorrow. Leave it to Son Goku to find a way to explode a fucking car. Perhaps that was enough to convince his mother to not push her son to get a license.
"No."
"You guys, the answer is easy," Sharpener smiled. "Mister Gohan here just tells me where to turn and shit, and I drive. We all win and Videl doesn't get to arrest us."
"Sounds good to me," Gohan answered.
"Alright then, it's decided, now, let's move because we're gonna be late to class if we keep discussing."
"As if being late to class ever stopped you," Videl pointed out, a smile creeping on her face.
"Wow, Miss Videl, you can smile?" Gohan teased, his cigarette at hand.
The smile fell immediately and she was going to say something to him, probably an insult or something like that, but Gohan beat her to it.
"It suits you. You should smile often."
Sharpener laughed. "Look who's talking, I don't think you know how to smile for more than three seconds."
"Maybe on the way over there, we could stop for my brand new red phone."
The ride itself was not as bad as Gohan thought it would be. Sharpener's car smelled of beer and cheap cologne, which made Gohan get a headache because of his enhanced smell. He had been seated in the right side of the car, besides Erasa (thank Kami) because Sharpener didn't let anyone ride shotgun. Surprisingly, they did not get lost, although both guys cursed at a pedestrian's carelessness at one point which got them a glare from Videl.
Gohan found out that he and Sharpener had a similar music taste, and they almost did stop by an electronics store for the phone but Erasa had asked them to focus which made Sharpener laugh and Gohan point out that they were almost at the place. And true to his words, after a few minutes, he asked Sharpener to find a parking spot for they had arrived at their destination.
Videl's first impression of the restaurant was somewhere between curiosity and skepticism. The building was old, one could see that clearly, but it looked cozy too. It was, in the end, somewhere none of her friends would eat. It looked, for a better lack of word, common. Gohan, however, seemed in his element the moment they stepped out of the car, he knew where to go and he walked with confidence, not the same confidence she saw at the baseball game, more like relaxed confidence.
When they entered, there weren't many people, a few were eating pizza and the heat of the ovens which were right in front slapped them in the face. Gohan walked to the counter, where a man who could be either in his late forties or early fifties was.
Videl saw the menu. It was much cheaper than the places they usually ate, a good extra-large pizza was fifteen bucks, and it came with a drink. "You guys want the extra-large or not?" Gohan spoke. "I have twenty-five bucks on me."
Suddenly, from the kitchen, the sound of something metallic that had fallen was heard, then, heavy footsteps. Videl frowned and looked at her friends, Sharpener and Erasa shrugged, both of them looked confused, meanwhile, Gohan sighed.
From the kitchen, emerged another man, although this one looked way younger than the first, with a huge grin on his face and his apron covered in flour. He was of lean body, dark brown hair which was cut short and hazelnut eyes. He gave a huge laugh when he saw them. The rest of the clients looked as equally bewildered as Videl, Erasa and Sharpener.
"Gohan!"
Videl thought Gohan would sigh in annoyance, or get embarrassed, or just outright tell whoever that dude was to fuck off, but instead, he smiled. A genuine smile unlike those he gave to the teachers or his classmates which shown clear annoyance, no, he genuinely smiled. "Glen."
Glen, as he was named, jumped out of the counter and gave a huge hug to Gohan. "Fucking asshole, it's time you showed your face," he pulled away and looked at his face.
"Did you get in another fight?"
The bruised teenager frowned, his mood soured and his shoulders tensed. "No, and you're making me sound like someone with anger issues."
"As if. Though you're always the one ending up in fights."
Glen finally seemed to acknowledge the rest of the group. He extended his clean hand. "So, you're Gohan's friends, huh? I didn't think he would get some so soon," he glanced at Videl. "You're Videl Satan! Mr. Satan's daughter, damn, you're friends with little Gohan here?"
"Little Gohan?" Videl snickered.
Little Gohan got red and sighed. "You're making me regret going here." He looked at Glen.
His friend looked back and cringed. "The fuck are you wearing?"
"What? Clothes?"
"You look like a homeless person."
Gohan wore beige cargo shorts that covered him up to his knee, a black shirt and navy blue sweat jacket with the zipper down, and black sandals. If one should ask him why he wore such clothes, his logical reason would be that he forgot to do the laundry and that was all he had at the moment, and he had thought it would be a good idea to wear it. His honest reason would be that he didn't have time to search for clothes and if he felt like shit he might as well look like it too.
"I used to wear this to work."
"Yeah, but you're now in a prestigious school!"
Gohan groaned in clear annoyance but Glen only smiled. "Can I get my order?"
"Which is?"
"The fifteen bucks pizza."
"You know how to make it, right?"
Gohan scoffed. "Of course, I remember."
Glen looked at the forty years old dude, then, back at his friend. "Okay, it's going to be free."
The forty years old chuckled. "Yeah, right, you don't make those choices, boss does."
"By the way, where's Mister Abi?"
"He's out doing some business. How about this, if you make your own pizza it's free."
Sharpener burst out laughing and even Erasa couldn't help but snicker. Gohan glared at them but Videl saw there wasn't malice, no real anger in his gaze. It wasn't the same look he gave Glen, no that one was more personal, more friendly but this one, it didn't seem so cold.
"You laugh, and I still wait for my phone. So, how about this," he looked at Glen. "You bring me my pizza and I pay like any normal person would do."
"Oh, but where's the fun in that?"
"Glen. I have forty minutes to eat if I don't wanna go back to school late. So, please, help me out."
Glen eyed his 'friends' and then eyed Gohan. He shrugged at the end. "Alright, alright. Just because you look like shit, though you always did, no worries."
"You're so kind to me," Gohan sneered. "You look as beautiful as always."
Glen who was now walking back to the kitchen gave him the middle finger. "Of course, don't you see how many customers we have? They're here for me! And so are you!"
Videl saw how Gohan's shoulders fell and a small smirk was plastered on the side of his face. He turned to see his company and sighed. "Glen is a good guy, he's just special. Let's get a damn table."
"You got weird friends," Sharpener pointed out.
"And you have the name of a pencil sharpener."
Erasa's laugh was heard.
In the end, the pizza had been free. Gohan had spent five minutes arguing with Glen about it, saying that he could get fired and the other guy replied that the owner would understand. After he saw his arguments were null, they all ate. Videl liked the pizza, it was actually good for a place like that. She didn't understand why people didn't go eat there. Sharpener shrugged and said perhaps because it looked dead on the outside. Gohan said that not many people would wait for the pizza to be made anymore.
Videl saw it as a shame.
Something odd about Gohan that Videl picked up was his eating habits. He ate in a very well-mannered way like he was restraining himself. She didn't understand why. It was his food as well, he could eat it. His table manners were so polite, it made her feel bad for eating like a normal person.
He didn't speak much. Gohan wasn't someone who spoke or even looked like enjoyed himself. Videl's first glimpse at something resembling a normal reaction from him was with that guy named Glen. He looked more like himself (which was weird considering she had never seen his true self) and his words flowed smoothly.
"Can I speak with you?"
Videl looked up and saw Glen, still as disheveled and dirty as he was when they arrived. Gohan frowned immediately while Sharpener eyed him curiously and Erasa stopped eating.
"Glen," Gohan's tone was a warning.
"It won't be long, and don't worry, I won't talk about your super deep secrets that you never bothered telling me."
Videl herself was suspicious. Why would a guy she only met once wanted to talk to her? Was it because of Gohan? Maybe he knew something about him and wanted to share it with her. But why? She had to find out.
"Gotta tell you, man," Sharpener said between bites. "Don't try anything funny with her, she knows how to kick ass."
Glen laughed. "Oh, don't worry. After what Gohan did to me, I wouldn't think of doing anything without warning first."
She stood up and followed him. They went through the kitchen and then to a door that led to the backyard. It was filled with dumpster containers and a brick wall. Glen sat on the steps. Videl didn't. She crossed her arms and frowned. "Why did you want to talk to me?"
Glen gave her a mischievous smile. "You know, if you want to know stuff about him, you should ask him."
"Who?"
"Bah, you're as bad as him in romance. I see your interest in Gohan, you kept eyeing as if he was some sort of suspect."
Videl scoffed indignantly. "I do not like him! He's just one of my classmates. I've known him for four days!"
"Oh, that it? I thought you guys had something, you know, by the way you look at him but sure, I guess I misinterpreted."
"Such friend you are," she muttered. "I never thought Gohan would find a friend like you, this animated; since he's so serious-"
"Melancholic. And there's more to him than meet the eye, he's quite a guy."
"I've seen."
"Ah, his bruise," Glen nodded. "What did he say about it?"
"He fell off his bike while looking at a bird."
He laughed. "I love that! He would definitely do that!"
"You said that he always ends up in fights, what you meant by that?" Videl questioned, her face serious.
Glen shrugged again. For what it looked like, he did that often. "Gohan has this, moral compass, that gets him a lot of trouble. Usually never physical shit but close to it."
Videl tilted her head. "Such as?"
"Once he threw a customer out after he insulted another customer, we were lucky we didn't get sued. Gohan has a temper, takes time to tick it off but once is off, damn."
So who cares if it's fair if what he does is right?
There was something about him. Something about Gohan made Videl want to know more about him. He didn't look like someone who got in fights but he was covered in scars and today he had a bruise on his face. He didn't talk too much but when he did his words always stayed in the air.
Gohan, Videl noticed, was the first person to not care who her father was. To not be amazed or surprised by her last name. He had been nonchalant to it, giving her a few teasings but had never made a big deal out of it. Like he wasn't amazed by her father. Which didn't make sense. He saved the world. Everyone was a little excited about her father which had become annoying but he wasn't.
It was an odd feeling. She didn't like odd feelings.
"He's odd," she finally said.
Glen looked at her in the eyes and she found an unknown seriousness. Then, he smiled. "He's a good guy. A bit socially awkward but good. He likes to deny it but he has the gift of bringing people together, of bringing them up. You'll see."
"Has he ever gotten violent?"
Glen frowned. He eyed her up and scoffed. "Why do you want to know? You've only known him for four days. The information I gave you should suffice for you to get with him."
By fucking Kami, I do not want to get with him. "It's just curiosity."
A scoff. "Only once. A man came in totally wasted and demanding to be served immediately. Gohan didn't want to, he even asked the man to leave. So, that dude started insulting him, calling him an asshole and other shit. Surprisingly, Gohan ignored that. But that only got that man angrier, he started saying that his father raised a pussy and a coward."
Glen laughed at the memory. "Gohan snapped. He grabbed the drunk by his collar, and when they got to the street, Gohan punched the man. Broke his nose."
Who the hell was Gohan? First, his amazing home run, his crooked nose and bruise, his scarred face, a friend this animated, and that's only with four days of knowing him.
Now that she thought about it, Gohan decided to hit that ball when Sharpener mentioned his father. Who the hell was his father? And why would Gohan get so defensive when someone took him as an example?
"But as I've said, he's nice. One day, if you guys get him to relax, he'll start talking about something that he genuinely likes and he will be so excited that you guys will get excited because his feeling will be palpable. I believe he likes to live life for what it's worth."
That seriously didn't sound like Gohan. But she shook that off. She didn't know him at all. They had only seen each other for four days. Who knows who he truly is?
Videl came, again, to the conclusion that Gohan was an odd guy who was more than what anyone saw. And that only made her want to know more about him.
"Thank you," she managed to say.
Something she could respect was Gohan's friendship with Glen. It seemed to have been built in genuine feelings.
"Glad I could help. Do I get invited to your wedding? I'm kidding, I'm kidding. I still can't believe how little Gohan got to be friends with Videl Satan, he's all grown up now," Glen wiped off a fake tear from his eyes.
The back door opened, hitting Glen on the back. From the small space opened, Gohan popped up. He eyed both of them suspiciously, looked at his friend with a skeptical look and then at Videl with a more teasing one. "We gotta go."
She nodded and Glen stood up. He extended his hand and she took it. "Well, Miss Satan, please do not try to arrest me if I'm ever caught doing dumb shit. It was very nice to meet y'all"
She chuckled. "Likewise."
Gohan was waiting for her in the kitchen. His hands were on his pockets and glaring at Glen who was simply grinning. "What did he want to talk about?"
"Ways to get me to hook up with you."
Gohan saw Glen make an okay sign with his hand and winked at him. "I'm gonna kill him, that's what I'll do."
But in his tone, there was no real threat.
At six in the afternoon, Gohan had to pick up Goten from Capsule Corps after spending his whole noon and afternoon with Trunks. He hated how the feeling of guilt hadn't left him, it increased throughout the day even. It had been nice to visit Glen, his nonchalant attitude was needed after the shit day he was living. And he had no actual idea what he and Videl Satan had talked about, but she left him alone for the rest of the day.
She didn't question him further, and her glares had stopped. Sharpener meanwhile had begun asking questions about everything, about his work, about his friendship with Glen and Gohan swore to him that if he kept asking questions he would end up punching him. The blonde had laughed at his answer but Erasa had stepped in and Sharpener's jabs dialed down a notch.
He knocked on Capsule Corps and it was Dr. Briefs with his hair all disheveled, cigarette on his lips and his cat on his shoulder who greeted him. The last time Gohan had stepped foot was the day he lost control. He had said sorry to the doctor but still, he felt guilty. He chuckled internally, feeling guilty was something he was doing a lot of nowadays.
"Gohan, dear boy, what happened to your face!"
Oh, yeah, his face and his jaw clicked. "Goten's punch packs a mean kick."
"I always say, the Saiyan race was probably the strongest race in the universe," the doctor chuckled. "Do you want to use the healing tank?"
"No, it's okay," Gohan said a bit too quickly but he didn't care. He hated that damn thing with all his being. "I'm here for my brother."
"Oh, my grandson and your brother are training in the new and improved Gravity Room, but you can wait for them at my daughter's lab, she's working on the Project."
The Adaptive Battlefield Memory Simulator, the last he heard of that project they were programming it and making some of the parts. It would be better to stay with Bulma instead of standing like an idiot at the entrance of their house. "Thank you, doctor, I'll go right away."
Maybe you can teach me how to fly! And I'll get to call you Master Gohan.
Probably not the best idea to go to the home of the reason he felt like shit at the moment. Usually, he would do anything to get his mind away from those memories, like a walk in the park or bury his head in his studies. He shook off his head as if that would shake the memories as well and walked through the hallways to Bulma's lab. It was the second biggest, just after the doctor.
Or perhaps it was now the biggest, given Gohan destroyed the doctor's lab.
The fingerprint recognition door (because Kami knew they had that) opened immediately when Gohan pressed his thumb in it. He had never understood why he was one of the few people who had almost full access to the biggest corporation in the world. Bulma had said that it would be easier if he came often and the doctor said something between the lines of "the strongest person in the world has to have access to everything" and "what my daughter said".
Bulma was in her desk, with a lot of files and papers spread on it. Her blue hair in a ponytail and glasses on. She looked up from her papers when Gohan entered. "Oh, hey, Gohan, you're here for your brother?"
"Yep, if he isn't here in ten minutes I'll have to drag him from the GR."
"Do I need to ask about the bruise on your face?"
He chuckled. "Goten punched me."
"Well, damn, what distracted you long enough to get him to punch you?"
"The doctor said you're working on the ABOS. Can I see?" He walked to her desk with interest.
"Sure, kid," she smiled handing him a file.
He opened it and read it. He couldn't concentrate on it. He knew by the vague reading that it was about the whole programming of the machine, but no matter how many times he read it, his mind didn't process the words. Gohan knew he was too distracted for that, his head was somewhere entirely. He forced himself to concentrate on the file he had at hand. But his mind always went back to that specific thing.
Fucking hell, what did I do to deserve this?
He shook his head again and tried again. It couldn't be that fucking hard. It was just a stupid file about an incredible machine. Why couldn't he concentrate?
You know, in my timeline, you were my master and best friend.
He sighed. And put down the damn file. He looked at Bulma who was working, he hesitated in saying something, it wasn't worth it. But perhaps if he talked about it, his damn guilt would stop killing him.
Ah, fuck it, he had nothing to lose.
"Can I ask you a question?"
Bulma looked up again. "Sure, what's up?"
"Do you miss him?"
"Who?"
"Trunks."
She knew immediately which Trunks he was referring to. She put down what she was working on and she took off her glasses. She frowned slightly at that question. "Well, sometimes, yeah. I wonder what he's up to and if he's doing well. And I thank him in secret whenever I see Vegeta caring for his son."
"Yeah?"
She smiled. "I think he made him realize what it meant to be a father. I'm sure Vegeta thinks about him too, maybe that's the whole reason he trains Trunks now. Why did you ask that?"
Gohan wanted to lie and say it was simply something that randomly popped in his head but that wasn't the truth. He frowned internally, since when did he start caring about the truth? He was a fucking murderer with-he forgot how many people's blood was in his hands. Why didn't he want to lie about this? He lied about everything nowadays.
"Yesterday, I was training Goten, well, just teaching him about basic punches and kicks and all. And in the middle of that, he called me Master. Master Gohan to be precise," he shrugged. "And I don't know, it just got me thinking."
Gohan at age ten wasn't stupid. He was a lot smarter and a lot more insightful than what people would get him credit for. His father had been perhaps the only one to know that, well, the only one apart from him. Apart Trunks. The mysterious dude who had somehow defeated one of Gohan's worst nightmares so easily had been revealed to be the baby that Gohan had met that fateful day when the androids appeared, Vegeta's son.
Okay, maybe Gohan at age seven wasn't that smart given that he didn't suspect that mysterious youth was Vegeta's son but when the whole ordeal of the androids came around, maybe it was because of his training but Gohan had become a hell of a lot insightful, he had to be aware of his surroundings. And in some moments, small moments in battle, he saw Mirai Trunks as they now called him, stare at him, with what he could think was longing.
Nostalgic bittersweetness.
Gohan didn't understand why he looked at him with such a stare. And everything was happening so fast he really didn't have time to ask him at first. But he always knew that whenever he was around, Trunks would stare at him, just for a little bit. He usually spent his time trying to connect with his father. And the funny thing was that ten years old Gohan looked up to Trunks, he looked up to that young man so much, he admired him.
Trunks, in his part, didn't talk much about his master. Didn't talk about his timeline unless it was to give essential information. But Gohan remembered thinking that whoever taught the Saiyan who slashed Frieza like he was butter, was the best of the best. He had to be if his student was like that.
Perhaps the reason why Gohan could adapt so well to his little brother's huge admiration for him was simply that before Goten there was Trunks.
His student.
"Ah, and I guess that explains your bruise."
"He was in the middle of punching me when he said that and I got distracted."
Bulma looked at him in the eyes and it took all his willpower not to look away. "Do you miss him?"
Why should I miss him? I was never his master, and he was never my student.
Then, why do I feel so guilty?
The way that teenager looked at him. With longing, with that desperate longing and need for Gohan to be who Trunks knew, had been so present in his mind. He was trying to look at a ghost but no matter how hard he looked, that ghost had left long ago.
Now, that Trunks was his ghost, but it didn't matter, Gohan had enough of them to fill King Yemma's office.
"To be honest with you, I haven't thought of him a very long time."
Bulma caught his guilt in the way he phrased it. "It's okay, Gohan, we haven't even told this Trunks about it. And Vegeta never talks about him."
But Vegeta wasn't his master, he didn't see him the way he saw me.
Trunks had looked at Vegeta with a need of knowledge, curiosity, to know and get to know his father, someone he had never met and who he wanted to. But Vegeta didn't carry what Gohan did. Because he hadn't been anything to the young man. He had that freedom of being who he was and Trunks, even if his expectations had been shattered, he could never compare him to the version of his timeline because he never met him.
But Gohan was different. Trunks had known who Gohan was way before he knew who Trunks was. Or at least, known a version of him. And that was the whole problem, Trunks knew a version of him. But the Gohan he knew, his master, his best friend, that person who he looked up to and admired so much it was scary, was just a version of the seven or ten years old Gohan. The version he would've been had he not intervene.
But it wasn't him.
He wasn't his master or his best friend and when he looked at him in the eyes, there wasn't that familiarity. Because he wasn't him. No matter how hard he looked, Gohan wouldn't be who he had-or more like who he could've been.
Trunks had once looked up to Gohan in the same way he had looked up to his father. And that whole thing scared him. Because Gohan looked up to his father like he was everything, he was unbreakable and the strongest person he ever knew. To that Trunks, Gohan had been a huge part of his life, his everything with his mother, but to Gohan, Trunks had been this mysterious time traveler who did end up being his friend but never to that extent.
And he would never go to that extent. He would never have that friendship or companionship with Mirai Trunks or even present Trunks.
He snapped out of his thoughts and chuckled. "Well, I take solace in that."
Before Bulma could answer, the door slid wide open and Vegeta, Trunks and Goten came in. Vegeta looked angry but he always did while Trunks and Goten looked too hyperactive for two kids who had spent their whole day playing.
"Big brother, look what Mister Vegeta gave me!"
It was a damn bruise.
Gohan groaned. How the fuck was he going to tell this to his mother?
"Dad says bruises and scars are to be worn with pride!" Trunks jumped around. "It means one fought like a true warrior!"
"You're damn right, boy," Vegeta grumped and looked at Gohan. "What's with your face?"
"Goten won a match."
Vegeta snorted at that while Trunks high-fived Goten. His little brother had felt so bad yesterday for landing such a hit but now, after what Vegeta and Trunks had said, he didn't feel like he should do it again but pride shone in his smile.
"Well, Goten, is time to go. Mom's waiting for us."
Without a warning, he felt someone lurch at him. He dodged it rather quickly and then, that someone tried again, Gohan kept evading and blocking until he saw an opening and brought his hand forward hitting Trunks in the chest and throwing him on the ground.
The kid glared at him while he got up.
"Trunks, what's wrong with you?" Bulma's voice boomed.
Trunks smiled with determination. "One day, I'll get to land a hit on you!"
"Who taught you that move?" Gohan ignored the little kid's pride.
He knew that move. He rarely used it nowadays because well, he had no use for it. It had been one of the first moves Gohan had created on his own. It had taken him a lot of sleepless nights in the wilderness but it had been effective when he used it against Mister Piccolo. His teacher had liked it, found its flaws and helped him perfected it. What Trunks used was the last version of that technique.
"Dad taught me," the little kid said smugly. "And he was taught it by a great warrior."
Gohan looked at Vegeta, and his eyes met for a few seconds. That was all the confirmation Gohan needed.
"I am sure one day you might land a hit on me."