Letters from War
ONESHOT based on the song by the same title.

"Gohan, you don't have to do this."

A young man with short dark spikes of hair turned and smiled. "Mom, we've been over this. Yes I do."

"But…" Chichi's eyes shone with unshed tears. "But those men are monsters! Babidi's army is ruthless! You can't tell me that you're doing this to be some sort of hero!"

Gohan shook his head. "I'm not."

"Then don't go!" Chichi grasped Gohan's hand earnestly. "Gohan, you're my only son! I don't want to lose you!"

"Mom, you won't." He patted her hand reassuringly. "Don't worry, I'll be fine."

"Don't you tell me not to worry!" Chichi wailed, tears falling freely. "You're going to war! You're going to be so far away! I can't help but worry!" She tugged on his uniform. She remember when he came home wearing it, prouder than a peacock. He looked so handsome, young face shining with pride. Even now she looked into his eyes and saw how young he was. He was still a boy in her mind. She tugged a little harder on his jacket front. "Don't go!"

Gohan slowly reached up and held his mother's face in his hands. "I have to."

She gazed tearfully at her baby. "Why?"

The young man sighed. "I've been thinking about Dad. How he lived his life, how he died…" He smiled softly. "He loved us so much mom. So much that he died fighting to protect us." He leaned forward and rested his forehead against hers, seeing all the gray hairs and wrinkles that he'd never really noticed before. His heart clenched at the signs of hardship the years had left upon his mother. "That's why I'm going, mom."

At the mention of Goku, Chichi looked down. She sniffled. "I miss him."

"I do too." He pulled her into a hug. "Dad was a real warrior. I know I'm not like him all that much, but I know what's important. I don't want to fight. I don't want to kill anyone. But I know that I have to protect what I love. That's why I'm going to war. " He held her tightly. "Mom, you are what I'm fighting for."

Chichi wept into his shoulder. She held him as they stood at the bus terminal, waiting for the shuttle to take him away. She never thought that he'd get called from his position in the reserves. Then again, no one ever thought that a single man would try to take over the known world. She never thought Gohan would actually have to fight in a war.

Finally, sounds of the shuttle were heard coming up the road. She pulled away from her son and wiped her eyes. She adopted a stern stance and shook her finger at him. "Make sure to write me at least once a week!"

Gohan grinned, wiping away his own tears. "I promise."

"And no girls!"

"Mom!" Gohan laughed, blushing. "I'm going off to war! Not to a dance mixer!"

Chichi smiled through her tears. "Just teasing." She smoothed his rumpled collar as the shuttle bus came to a stop in front of them. "I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too." He pulled her into another hug. "Take care of yourself mom."

Chichi hugged him fiercely. "You too Gohan."

A minute later he withdrew from her arms. He hefted his duffle from the ground and boarded the shuttle. Chichi watched as the door to the shuttle closed and it began to pull away. It started into the distance, but as it left she could see Gohan sticking his head out the window and waving. She waved back, trying to make it seem like a happy wave.

As soon as it was out of sight, Chichi hugged herself and cried.

Heya Mom!
Sorry I didn't get a chance to write in a while. Basic training is taking up most of my time.

Chichi smiled to herself, imagining her son doing more jumping jacks and pushups than anyone else. Such an overachiever. She continued reading the letter.

It's been raining steadily for the past week. Some part of me thinks they engineered it somehow to do that on purpose. Like training for the harsh weather where we're going. The drill sergeant kept us training in the pouring rain without breaks! Can you believe that guy?

Chichi chuckled softly. Gohan's complaints eased her mind. They told her he was doing fine. Well, enough to complain anyhow.

Jerk of a sergeant aside, I finally made some friends! I told you last time about this Krillin guy. You remember him right? Short, bald guy with a huge crush on our female sniper? We got to talking the one day and he's actually super funny. He's an ex-martial artist, kinda like Dad was. We sparred together yesterday and had a blast rolling around in the mud. Yeah it got us some pretty hefty bruises, but heck I'd do it again in a heartbeat!

Chichi grinned. "So like his father." She murmured.

There's also this other guy called Piccolo. He's pretty young, but already a veteran soldier. I think they called him in from the northern reserves or something. Anyway, at first he's seemed like such a recluse. Never really talks to anyone. I finally got to talk with him the one time and guess what? He knew Dad! Can you believe it? We've been hanging out ever since. He's super cool!

Chichi felt her breath catch as she read the next few words.

On a more serious note, basic training is almost finished. They're posting our assignments next week. I don't know exactly where they're sending me, but I think most of us are going to the front lines.

"The… front lines?" Her heart clenched in fear.

I know you're probably going to freak out, but you deserve to know. Please don't worry. I'm with some good guys. My troop has been getting top marks in all our field tests. Plus, we got our first paycheck! I'm getting you a souvenir from out here. I know you've never been out of the country, so it'll be something you can brag to Bulma about.

Chichi allowed herself a small smile. Bulma was Goku's friend from way back. After she got married, the two became fast friends. The blue haired genius was like Gohan's godmother. She kept reading.

I keep thinking about Dad. You know, he was never a general or even a lieutenant. Still, I'm pretty sure that without him, we never would've won the war against the Red Ribbon Army. I can only hope that I can be as brave as he was.

I'll write when I can. Remember mom, you are what I'm fighting for.
I love you.
~ Gohan

Chichi smiled sadly. She smoothed the creases from around the corners where the signs of dried rain showed. She lovingly folded the letter and put it back in the envelope, setting it in a small box beside her bed. The box had a good few other letters inside. Some of which had a childish scrawl on the front. Memories contained in letters from her son.

She pulled out a new sheet of paper. She uncapped her pen and began to write.

Dear Gohan,
I am so glad to hear from you. I was really worried when I didn't receive your letters the last two weeks. Don't let basic training kick your butt!

Not much has happened since your last letter. It's still so quiet since you've left. I'm slowly getting used to it, it has been three months since you've gone, but sometimes I think about getting a cat or something.

Summer is in full swing and sunny days are all we ever have. We actually could use a bit of rain to cool things down. Send some of your rain over here please.

Your friends seem like nice men. Just don't go following any of their dirty habits. And don't tell me they don't have any! Trust me, a mom knows all about these sort of things. Tell your friend Krillin that he'd better treat that lady friend of his well or she'll kick him to the curb! A woman like that deserves respect!

Oh sweetie, I know you're good and you're brave. You're so like your father that it's almost painful sometimes. I know that Goku would've been proud of you if he could see you now. What a father that you'll be someday.

Keep yourself dry and always remember to change your underwear. Don't worry about getting me anything. Just get yourself home safe at the end of this and I'll be the happiest mom alive.

I can't promise you that I won't worry. In fact, I intend to worry as long as you are out there fighting. I know that I'll lose more than one night of sleep if you're sent to the front lines. Gohan, you are capable and I know you can do whatever task they give you, but I don't want you hurt.

Make it home, make it safe.

I love you,
~ Mom.

She looked over her letter. It was considerably shorter than the ones she'd sent in the past. Gohan's letters were never lengthy because he was always on the go. Always busy. This time, she'll just keep it short.

Chichi folded the letter and placed it in the envelope. She put a stamp on the corner and rested it against a picture of Gohan. In the picture her son was smiling brightly with a rather spiky helter-skelter haircut his father had given him when she wasn't around. She smiled at the picture and folded her hands.

"Kami-sama, please bring him home safe."

The months passed slowly. News from the war was always grim. The people on the news never had a good thing to say besides the fact that more people needed to sign up to stop this menace. They tried to claim that things were going well, but everyone knew they really weren't.

Letters from Gohan became more and more infrequent. Whenever Chichi would receive one, she read it over and over and held it close to her heart. She knew things were tough on the front, despite how light Gohan tried to sound in his letters. She could tell how he was frightened by the way his handwriting would jolt. As though his hand was shaking. That alone made her worry even more.

For a few months she had no word about how he was doing. It was frightening. Was he alright? Was he in trouble? Her heart was weighted down with worry. Nevertheless, she wrote him weekly, almost daily. Encouraging him as best she could even though she hadn't the slightest idea if he was getting any of her letters. She was scared. Scared that she would lose her only son.

Finally, late in December she got a letter. Chichi watched as the mailman dropped her mail off in the mailbox and nearly shouted with relief. She threw on her winter coat and hurried through the snow to fetch the letter she'd thirsted for. She pulled it out of the mailbox with a grin and scurried back inside to read it.

She snatched her letter opener from the table and sliced through the envelope quickly. She unfolded the letter with a bright smile of relief. She scanned over the letter and her smile faded.

This wasn't Gohan's handwriting. Blinking, she looked at the envelope. It was addressed to her, but not from Gohan. What was going on? Slowly she looked back at the top of the letter and began reading.

Dear Mrs. Son.
My name is Yamucha. I used to fight with Goku back in the day, but that's not why I'm writing. I swore to Gohan that I'd write to you as soon as I could. I've never been good at writing letters, but here it is.
Ma'am, things weren't looking good for us. Last month we were on a mission to do some recon along the outskirts of the front when we were ambushed. We had backup, but they brought out the heavy artillery and we had to fall back.

Somehow in the chaos of that battle, I ended up separate from my platoon. I was up on a hill, I was out there alone. Shots rang out, bullets were flying, smoke and debris filled the air. Bombs were exploding left and right. It was a nightmare. I pray you never have the chance to experience it.
I got hit in the left leg by a piece of shrapnel. Laying there, I thought I was a goner. Dead for sure. The enemy was advancing and there were no allies around. I was either about to be captured or killed. I was so scared.

That's when I saw him. A lone soldier running up the hill. I was so scared that he was the enemy, but then I recognized his uniform from another platoon. He came back for me. He pulled me into a ditch and tugged the shrapnel from my leg. After I was bandaged he told me the enemy was practically on top of us. He said that he was going to distract them so they'd take him instead of me. I argued that I wasn't worth saving, but he just smiled. He leapt over the edge of the ditch and the enemy took him. They retreated soon after as our forces pushed them back. Though he was captured, that man set me free.

That man was your son.

I owe Gohan my life. If he hadn't pulled me into that ditch, I'd be in their prisons instead of in the camp hospital. Before he was taken he told me to write to you. I swore I would.
I don't know if he's still alive, but I can tell you…

Chichi couldn't read the rest of the letter. The words were too blurry. Teardrops fell like rain on the already wrinkled paper. The paper fell from her nerveless grasp and she covered her face with her hands.

She wept.

"Kami-sama." She bawled through her tears. "Don't let him die!" She crumpled to her knees in the kitchen. "This can't be true! Oh Kami!" She cried, her breaths coming in sobs. "Please let him live! Bring him home to me!"

She lay on the floor for hours, crying her lungs out. The sobs echoed in the empty house as she tried to keep her heart from breaking with worry and despair. She couldn't lose him. She couldn't! Not after Goku. Gohan was all she had left.

Somewhere close to midnight, she pulled herself from the kitchen floor. Her eyes were red and puffy. Her face was heavy with exhaustion, but she made her way into her study. She sat down and pulled out a sheet of paper. Her slumped shoulders squared and she seemed to find new strength as she uncapped her pen and began to write.

Gohan,
I know you're alive. I just know it. Don't give up. You hear me young man? Don't you DARE give up! You'd better get home to me safe and sound! I don't care if you don't come back a hero! Just get home alive!

A few tears fell on the paper, but she wiped her eyes before more could further mar the surface.

I know you're good and you're brave. You'll live to be a father some day.
Make it home. Make it safe.
I love you so much.
~Mom

Chichi sealed the letter and went to bed.

She wrote him every day for the following year. But with each letter she sent, the next one became harder to write. There was never a response. Things looked hopeless.

Her father and her friends, namely Bulma, tried to encourage her. Tell her to keep heart. After all, the war was finally going well. Gohan was sure to be fine. But even Bulma didn't believe her own words. They were all very worried. After a year of no word, Bulma started to accept the fact that Gohan may be with Goku.

But Chichi never lost hope. Some days were harder than others. It would feel as though her hope was dangling by a thread. Others it felt like he could just waltz through the door and ask what was for dinner. The nights were even harder. She would lie awake, worrying over her little boy. She'd think of his childhood and end up crying over what was sure to be lost. But still kept her belief that he'd come home some day. And every day, she wrote a letter to Gohan.

Gohan,
I pray you're living. It's hard, but I'll keep believing. I miss you so badly. Please be okay.
You are good and you're brave. What a father that you'll be someday.
Make it home. Make it safe.
I love you forever.
~Mom

Some days, she would write pages and pages. Others, just a few sentences. But every day, a letter she'd send in the mailbox.

Another year came and went. Chichi grew haggard, worry kept eating away at her. Her father, the old Ox King, cared for her during those hard times. He made her eat and go out to visit her friends. Bulma was her shoulder to cry on when hopelessness got the better of her. Two years with no word. Bulma was sure that she wouldn't be able to hold on to hope like Chichi did.

And then one day the report came over the television. The war was over! Victory for the free peoples of the world! Babidi had been killed and his army destroyed!

People were celebrating everywhere. There was laughter and tears and rejoicing but still no word from Gohan. Was the boy actually still alive? Was the government just waiting to make the death announcement after they'd won the war? No one knew what to make of it. Months passed after word of the war being over came out. Still nothing. Chichi was nearly at her limit. Any news about Gohan, good or bad, would've been welcome.

Then one day in October, when all the leaves had changed into the bright fall colors, a car pulled up to the front of the Son home. It was a sleek black car with military plates and flags adorning the hood. Very professional.

Chichi dropped the dish she'd been cleaning. It shattered on the floor, but she paid it no mind. Her eyes were glued to the car. Her heart nearly stilled in shock as it registered in her mind what this could mean.

Her son was dead.

This was the man who would give her the news. He was going to tell her that her son had been killed in action. Then he was going to give her a flag and a notice as to when the memorial would be held. She just knew it. Tears started welling in her eyes as she made her way to the front door, stepping over the broken pieces of the dish she'd dropped. There went the hope she'd been clinging to for three years. It had all been for nothing.

She drew a shuddering breath to still the pieces of her broken heart and opened the front door.

Nearly simultaneously, the door to the car opened. A tall man, dressed in a captain's uniform got out. Chichi stood stiffly at the threshold as he casually circled the car and pulled out a heavy duffle bag from the trunk. She watched in bewilderment as he hauled the duffle over his shoulder and made his way up the front walk. As he got closer her jaw dropped.

He stopped in front of her and she could feel herself begin to tremble. It couldn't be.

He reached up and pulled off his hat. Hair as dark as night spiked up except for one lone piece that hung down in front of his eyes. He smiled at her and she fell to her knees, holding her hand over her mouth.

"Hi Mom." Gohan said with a shaky smile, like he was trying to hold back tears. "I'm following orders. I got your letters and I've come home again."

Chichi let out a strangled sob and he ran to hold her, dropping his bag. He lifted her off the ground and held her tightly.

"You're alive!" Chichi wailed. She gripped him tighter than she ever thought she could. As if he was just a dream that would vanish if she let go.

"Mom." Gohan himself cried as he hugged her back just as fiercely. "Mom I'm home."

Chichi couldn't speak anymore. All she could do was cry with relief and joy. He son was alive. Her son was here in her arms. It was real.

They held each other for what seemed like hours. The duffle bag he'd brought from the car was forgotten. It lay there on the ground. A silent witness to the reunion of mother and son. It bulged with the testament to her hope and love.

It held all her letters from war.

THE END