-Gohan-
The city seemed more alive as Gohan calmly walked down the street. He could hear laughter and excited voices echoing out from the bars and restaurants he passed. He could see people smiling and moving with lively gestures as they walked with friends through the city. It seemed so...loud to Gohan. He'd never seen West City like this before.
A month ago, the city was much somber and quieter. People spoke in hushed, deflated voices, often with their lips pulled into a thin line. The streets had usually been devoid of people aside from the rare pedestrian coming to or from work. It had taken Gohan only a short time to realize just what had caused the change.
The androids...they're gone.
No longer did people have family members or friends they had to mourn from the most recent attack. No longer did people worry about walking about the city and being the unfortunate first victim to the androids' rampage. No longer did the people live with the fear that every day of their lives just might be their last.
Gohan felt a swell of pride at that thought, knowing that the reason the city was finally blooming with life again was due to his efforts. It made him want to lift his chin high at the accomplishment—even if all but a select few knew that he'd been the one responsible. He supposed that the lack of recognition for such a massive accomplishment for mankind would leave others annoyed, eager to receive the praise they deserved—but not Gohan. Gohan preferred the world not knowing he'd been the one behind the androids defeat—even if it hadn't been a complete victory.
I'd probably be super uncomfortable if everyone found out.
He could picture it now, people rushing up to him, gushing to him about how grateful and happy they were for the androids to be gone. They would praise him as a hero, even if he didn't really feel like he was one.
Gohan frowned. What if that wasn't their initial reaction? What if there were people who felt angered that it had taken him so long to finally stop those monsters? What if there were people who resented him for not stopping them before Android Seventeen or Eighteen had taken their parents, or child, or loved one away?
He closed his eyes, gently shaking his head to rid himself of the thought. What was done was done, he had to accept that...some day.
The sun was slowly beginning to set, its orange hues cutting the city into lines of gold and shade as structures blocked the light.
Gohan had finished with his job hours ago, working in a warehouse loading boxes into the back of trucks to be delivered. The job wasn't mentally stimulating by any stretch of the word, but Gohan was fine with that. It was just one in a long line of positions he'd had to throw away for the greater good. Before, he'd worked at a construction site as a manual laborer. He'd kept that position for a while, but whenever an unfortunate city or town was attacked during his shift, he'd have to abruptly leave, often without a proper reason. After the third time, the foreman had let him go. Before that, he'd been a part of a moving company, and before that, a shelf stocker. Yes, Gohan's resume consisted of a long list of short lived jobs, usually of a low skill set since he'd had to learn quickly before being fired during the next android fiasco.
He'd grown to live with the hassle of so often finding new employment. It wasn't so bad considering whenever he applied to a job he didn't really like, he already knew that he wouldn't be keeping it for very long.
He idly wondered how long he'd be keeping this job of his. He'd had a rough time convincing his supervisor that his recent injury wouldn't hinder his work, but upon maintaining his typical workload, it seemed eyes were off of him for the time being.
His onyx gaze scanned the street before landing on a vendor selling some variety of fruit smoothie. He was in the downtown district, with shops packed in tightly and street performers enacting their various routines. Noticing that the line was relatively short, Gohan decided to grab a drink for himself: an orange and banana smoothie which he had to admit wasn't half bad. He continued down the sidewalk, sipping on his smoothie as he enjoyed the varying music drifting from artists looking to make a little bit of zeni.
He raised an eyebrow as he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. A text message?
The man paused, awkwardly shifting before realizing that he needed to set the drink down before he could check. He blushed, finding a railing to set the drink on before digging out the device. He frowned when he saw who it was from.
Mom…
The text was a simple one, just her inviting him over for dinner sometime soon. He sighed as he pushed the device back into his pocket, not willing to answer immediately. He knew what 'dinner' really meant. It would be a time for his mother to prod him about his life, to make passive aggressive comments about how he should be focusing on his future. He could already hear her voice chiding him over the fact that he wasn't in college already, that he barely had a stable job, or that he wasn't in a relationship with some 'lucky' girl yet. Before, he'd had the excuse of the androids. He'd been able to fend off her comments by explaining to her how the world needed him, that some things were bigger than a college degree, or grandbabies. Now, he imagined that she would lay into him with a redoubled effort to see her son shacked up with a girl she found acceptable.
A cute sounding giggle pulled his attention away from the thoughts. Turning his head, he found a set of young women looking roughly his age sitting at a table, enjoying dinner together at what appeared to be an Italian restaurant. There were three in total, but Gohan found himself staring at the one in the center. She had long, silky black hair, bright blue eyes punctuated by long, delicate eyelashes, rosy cheeks, and a charming smile on top of all that.
Before, he'd never had time for relationships. He had to focus on training, focus on when the next attack would be and make sure he was ready for it. There had also been a part of him that felt it would be selfish if he tried to start a relationship with some unfortunate girl. Between training, fighting, working, and his time recovering with his typically near fatal wounds, he doubted he'd have very much time for an actual girlfriend. What more, what type of woman would be fine knowing her boyfriend was actively risking their life on a regular basis? He couldn't imagine the emotional turmoil of getting close to him, and then feeling that dread every time he went off to fight. For those reasons, Gohan had decided to stay clear of relationships, forbidding them altogether.
But now…
Now, he suddenly had all this time on his hands that he didn't know what to do with. His next training session with Videl and Trunks wasn't until the day after tomorrow, and he didn't have work until the day after that. He'd been reading a copious amount of novels to try and fill up that time, but even he had his limit on books. He supposed that now that the androids were gone...the idea of a girlfriend wasn't such a terrible one.
Plus, it might get Mom off my back for a while...
He stared, grateful that there was a street full of people dividing him and the women sitting at the table. The one at the center with the long dark hair truly was beautiful. He blinked, realizing that the woman sorta reminded him of Videl-
No!
He shook his head vigorously, ridding himself of the thought. He still felt embarrassed that he'd paid her that compliment about her eyes back during their camping trip. She'd clamped up immediately after, and their walk back to the campfire had been a silent, and very awkward one. He'd realized then and there that she was definitely not into him. It was very much possible that she already had a boyfriend anyway, especially considering just how beautiful she was—it wouldn't surprise him.
No, he shouldn't be thinking about her right now. It was better to search elsewhere for such affection. Besides, he had an absolutely gorgeous girl sitting at the table across the street, shouldn't he be focusing his attention on her?
Should I...talk to her?
He was half surprised by how unconfident the thought sounded as it came to him. He realized as he stood there that he'd had absolutely zero experience talking to women that weren't his mom or Bulma—which he'd always silently considered a surrogate aunt.
For a moment, he pondered exactly why he was having such thoughts. He'd rarely if ever thought about having a girlfriend, what had brought the idea to his mind?
A flash of a confident smile and cool blue eyes filled his mind.
He growled, annoyed at his own mind as he decided to stride towards the women, nearly forgetting to grab his drink in the process. A few moments later he'd weaved through the crowd of people filling the street and stood beside their table.
Their conversation cut off abruptly as they noticed his presence; something about one of their puppy's having potty troubles.
All three of the women's eyes looked up towards him.
Gohan cleared his throat, suddenly regretting not planning what he was going to say ahead of time.
"Um, uh, good morn-I mean evening, hahaha." He let out a nervous laugh as he saw the women shoot him strange looks. "Sorry, I'm not very-" He paused, realizing that he was about to admit he wasn't very experienced in approaching women. Would that come off as unconfident? Wasn't that something that women looked for in a man? All of his novels had suggested as much.
Instinctively, his hand reached to rub the back of his neck as he tried to come up with something to say to appear charming to the beautiful young woman sat between the two blondes.
He jumped as he felt a cold sensation running down the center of his back. A moment later, he realized he'd just poured his slushy all over the back of his head and backside. He caught surprised looks from the women before the trio started laughing uncontrollably at his blunder.
His gaze cast downward, his tone darkened as he said, "Thank you for your time, I hope you enjoy the rest of your meals."
The young demi-saiyan turned away as he crossed the street from the still giggling women. His head remained lowered, ashamed at just how poorly the exchange had gone. Quietly, Gohan found an alleyway with no one in it before floating into the sky and shooting off towards his apartment.
-Trunks-
"...Is that right?" The teen asked as he turned his head to his mother sitting just next to him at the small circular table.
She leaned over his shoulder, eyeing the math problem before Trunks with narrowed eyes before her face brightened with a smile. "Exactly right, Trunks!" She exclaimed, giving her son a half hug. "How'd you get so smart?"
Trunks blushed at the compliment, trying—and failing—to hide his smile. "I've got a pretty good teacher."
Bulma blinked, her hair pulled back into a ponytail with strands of hair shooting out in the areas she hadn't captured. She let out a small laugh before patting the young man on the back. "That," she began, "Is the right answer."
Trunks felt warmth in his chest from the approval. He watched as his mother turned her attention to the window situated towards the right of the living room in which they sat. "Looks like it's getting pretty late. I guess that's enough 'school' for today." The sky was already dark, the sun having set many hours ago.
The teen frowned as he heard his mom mention the term 'school'. Despite what he'd been told was a well rounded education, he'd never properly experienced an actual 'school' as his mother had described upon his asking. She'd recounted of middle school and highschool, but never had the young man ever gotten the chance to actually experience those realities of the past. The androids' influence had left many parents—Bulma included— terrified at the concept of sending their child away for so many hours of the day. This resulted in many schools shutting down entirely due to the lack of funding from too few students and lack of government support. There were still some schools left to teach their students, but those were few and far between, and often did not have many students to attend them still.
Trunks however had heard of the possibility of schools reopening now that the androids were seemingly finally gone. The young man felt himself growing excited at the very thought. He'd always idly wondered about what it would be like to sit with a full class of his peers, learning from a qualified teacher. He'd thought about sitting at lunch with people his own age, making friends, forming plans to hang out with each other over the weekend.
He didn't let his disappointment show however, as Bulma rose from her seat beside him. "Alright, time to get to bed, young man."
Trunks nodded compliantly as he rose, too. Before he could retreat to his room however, he found himself smothered in a hug by the middle aged woman.
"Love you, Trunks."
Feeling embarrassed, he wrapped his arms around her before responding similarly in a muffled, "Love you, mom."
She released him, turning not towards her own bedroom, but towards where he knew her lab to be. He sighed quietly to himself, knowing that the woman would not be finding sleep for many hours to come. She had never outwardly expressed what she was attempting, but Trunks knew all the same what her most recent project had sought to achieve.
He knew that Bulma was attempting to build Gohan a new arm.
It had crushed the young man to see his mother try so dutifully to recover what his master had lost. There'd already been three prototypes in the past which had proven...unsuccessful. Each time she'd excitedly present a new model of her renovated design, only to watch as it crumpled to the extreme conditions Gohan's fighting abilities demanded. Trunks would watch Bulma's face in those moments, seeing her sorrowful disappointment before a redoubled look of determination consumed her features and she stubbornly began to take notes on her failings. He wished his search for Seventeen's arm had been successful each time he'd watched the most recent of Bulma's attempts. It was why, despite over a month having passed, the young demi-saiyan still searched within the ruins of what had been Gohan's most recent victory against the Androids.
The thought brought a slight smile to the teen's lips as he thought about it. His efforts, combined with that of Videl and Gohan, had led to an actual triumph against the evil which had terrorized the world for all his life.
Finally, Bulma's form disappeared down a hallway leading to her lab. Trunks turned, solemnly walking to his room before throwing himself atop his bed. The lights were out, the moon casting a faint light into his room as he stared through the window neighboring his bed. He felt restless as he leaned his head against his arms folded behind him, staring up at the moon sitting above the city. Suddenly, an idea struck the teen which he couldn't ignore. For a few moments, he hesitated before eventually reaching out and pushing his window open. A few seconds later, the demi-saiyan found himself sailing through the dark skies of West City, searching for a familiar rooftop to land.
Eventually, he found his destination, landing on the top of a skyscraper with a flat top aside from a door leading to a set of stairs down to the rest of the building. Trunks bore no worry that someone would come through that door and find him here. He'd already retreated to this place many times before during the nights he'd felt restless—which were many.
For Gohan, the desert was his desired training ground—which was all well and good for just how hard he pushed their training when they were together, but it was hardly the environment Trunks preferred.
Standing still, the young demi-saiyan closed his eyes as he felt the cool breeze of the night sky ruffle through his lavender hair. He sucked in a slow breath through his nose, listening to the sounds of vehicles, voices, of life echoing out from the streets below. This was Trunks' preferred place to practice whenever the opportunity presented itself. Something about being surrounded by people, enveloped by the very city he sought to one day protect, made Trunks' resolve to push himself past his own limits that much stronger. He wanted to grow stronger for them. He wanted to be strong enough that each and every one of them could feel safe as they lived out their lives. He wanted them to know that he, Trunks Briefs, was looking out for all of them. And, most of all, he wanted his mother to feel safe.
His eyes snapped open, his hands tightening to fists before he shot out a straight punch, focusing on form, rather than power. He followed up with a series of lightning fast kicks that ended with a roundhouse. His mind drifted as he trained, recreating the battle in his mind of Gohan versus Seventeen, and then Eighteen. He'd practically forced Gohan to retell the experience, prodding for more details whenever Gohan seemed to skip something he thought inconsequential, but Trunks found engrossing. The elder demi-saiyan had told the story well, upon Trunks' insistence, and that fact led to Trunks doing his best to recreate the battle all around him, placing himself as the role of Gohan.
He envisioned a thrashing, powerful golden aura surrounding him as Seventeen snarled before him. Immediately, he rushed forward, engaging the android with a flurry of attacks, few, and then many of the attacks landing as he began to slowly get the better of the android. Trunks grinned, enjoying placing himself in the shoes of his master as he envisioned leaping back, pulling his arms back as he formed Gohan's signature attack, the-
Trunks frowned, his immersion broken as he paused in his reenactment. A few moments later, the young man's arms had dropped to his sides, his combat stance all but gone. He didn't like using the Kamehameha wave, not because he thought the technique was useless, of course. He certainly recognized just how powerful and incredible it could be from Gohan's demonstrations but…
...But it's not mine.
From the little he'd been able to draw out about his father between Gohan and his mother, he knew that the man had designed and used his own techniques through and through. In fact, he knew that many of the fighters before his time had done so, with the Kamehameha wave being the signature attack of only a small handful of fighters, and now being Gohan's only. He knew that he was definitely Gohan's student, but he still had his reservations about adopting Gohan's signature move as his own. Much like his father had, he wanted to design his own move to use, something that differentiated himself from Gohan, something that screamed 'Trunks' when people saw it one day.
A confident grin pulled at the corners of his mouth as he thought of the move he'd been practicing for weeks now. His arms formed a cross before his chest, his index and thumbs in hooked positions as his eyes focused forward with pools of determination at their center. Rapidly, his arms began to move, darting in and out across his body in a complex series of movements before, like many of his attempts had gone, his hands banged against themselves and he grunted.
He let out a soft sigh before he lifted his limbs again, beginning the attack once more only to tangle his limbs together in the attempt. He growled, annoyed at his own incompetence and considering the thought that perhaps he should design a move that didn't have such a complex and fast series of gestures. As it was now, he could hardly picture himself successfully performing the attack in the heat of battle, when he would need it most. He toyed with the idea of simplifying it some, perhaps removing some of the gestures, limiting it down to a short few movements before firing off the blast, before, like all times he'd contemplated dumbing it down, he dashed the idea entirely.
No, this is my move, I can't make it simple just because it's hard to do! I want it to feel like my attack!
Trunks had once asked what the significance of the Kamehameha wave's movements and chants were, thinking them arbitrary since he could easily just fire off a ki blast without letting his opponent know ahead of time what was coming. Gohan had explained it in a way that had left Trunks eager to design his own signature attack in the future.
'You see, Trunks, manipulating energy is as much a test of the mind as it is the body.'
Trunks recalled the elder saiyan having slowly begun the movements of his signature attack as he continued to explain.
'The movements, the words, they're there to train your mind. It's like how a song you really like might make you remember where you were when you first heard it. The movements and chant are there to remind you of exactly how powerful and impactful you want the move to be. It's to make sure your attacks are consistent, as just wanting your attack to be powerful sometimes isn't enough.
As he spoke, he thrust his hands forward, cupped around where the emerging ki blast would be.
"When done right, the words and movements become a mental trigger, so that building up your energy and unleashing it becomes less of a burden on your will to achieve it. It's almost like a trance really, tricking your own body into summoning the most out of itself without realizing it."
Trunks had nodded, his eyes flashing wide with wonder at one day having his very own attack, a movement that would make his mind slip into a trance that would summon his true strength.
Again, the teen began. His arms moved, his face taut with determination as he concentrated on getting it right this time. He dared not blink as his arms flourished, dancing around each other before stretching out towards the sky dramatically, pausing for less than an eye blink before they were crossed in front of his chest once more. He swallowed, his eyes widening as he realized that he was on the precipice of succeeding with his attack. His hands shot forward, his index and thumb fingers forming a diamond shape between them as he thrusted them out, aimed at his invisible opponent.
He'd nearly fired an actual ki blast he realized, having been caught up in the moment, excited that he'd finally after so much practice successfully performed what he was now determined to make his signature attack.
I did it!
Trunks grinned ear to ear, letting out a silent cheer as he fist pumped the air. He looked up at the night sky full of stars: his audience for the evening.
He performed a dramatic bow to his audience, mouthing 'thank you, thank you' as he did.
A sudden cry of alarm caused the teen to jump. Trunks turned his head towards the commotion before rushing over to the edge of the rooftop to look down.
His brow furrowed as he saw a man in a hoodie and dark colored jeans, a bandana tied to cover the bottom half of his face dashing as fast as his legs could carry him down the street. The man seemed panicked as he ran, and squinting Trunks realized that he had a dark colored backpack slung over one shoulder, his fingers clutching the strap so tightly his knuckles were white.
What's going on?
Frantic, the fleeing figure shoved through a small group of people unfortunate enough to be out at this time of night. He stumbled from the effort, slamming into the ground in a heap.
Trunks blinked, frowning as he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. He directed his attention towards a shape at the opposite end of the street.
His eyes grew wide at the sight, suddenly, Trunks was almost certain he knew what the man had been running from.
Standing there was a swirling mass of onyx black tendrils which seemed to float as it lingered. It was standing roughly at the height of a person, but the mass of swirls and wisps of hair made it impossible to distinguish anything other than the blackness. The darkness of the night had obscured the figure from his vision before, the light of a passing car having been the only reason the teen had been able to make it out in the first place. Trunks swallowed, a shiver running down his spine at the menacing sight. It looked like something straight out of one of the scary movies he'd watched with Gohan!
Suddenly, the previously still figure was moving, darting down the street aimed towards the fallen man. Trunks sucked in a breath as it flew, moving so fast Trunks was certain that, had he blinked, he would have missed it.
The teen's head snapped to the side, watching as the swirls of darkness appeared just before the fallen man, who had since spun around, sitting up with a frantic start. His hand disappeared into his hoodie before producing what Trunks quickly recognized as a gun.
A moment later, the explosive sound of gunfire filled the street followed by screams from the unfortunate bystanders the man had charged into moments earlier. Terrified faces dashed away from the two as flashes of gunfire lit up the road. Trunks stared dumbfounded at the scene. Each bullet had hit their desired target, disappeared into the mass of floating tendrils, seemingly to no effect. Finally, the eruption of gunfire came to an end as the gun clicked empty. The man stared up, horrified at the apparition standing before him as it moved closer, standing menacingly above him for a time.
There was a sudden flash of movement from the looming figure, and a sickening snapping sound which caused Trunks to jump. The demi-saiyan watched horrified as the man let out a blood curdling scream, clutching his leg just above the knee cap which seemed to have been bent inward. There was another lightning quick movement from the darkened figure, and this time Trunks was certain He could see a gloved fist shooting out and slamming into the man's head. The gunman went limp.
Trunks held his breath as he watched in a stunned stupor. He saw as the indiscernible figure leaned over the limp man, and Trunks felt a tightness in his chest. Was it about to kill whoever this guy was? Trunks found himself stepping onto the lip of the rooftop, prepared to leap off and stop whatever thing had just broken this poor man's leg.
Before he could, however, the shape withdrew, having taken the small backpack from the person's shoulder with a rough jerk. The bag disappeared into its tendrils a moment later, and seconds after that the figure had lurched into the sky flying back the way it'd come.
C'mon, Trunks! Move!
The demand broke the teen out of his stupor as he leapt off the roof top and rushed down to the crumpled heap of a person. He knelt beside him, hovering his hand over his mouth before breathing a sigh of relief. It appeared that he was still breathing, only unconscious. Trunks blinked as he heard the sound of approaching sirens off in the distance.
Good, someone had the sense to call the police. They'll be able to get him the help he needs.
The teen grimaced as his eyes lingered on the shattered remains of the man's leg, bent at a painful angle with bone jutting out from the thigh.
Immediately, his head turned sharply in the direction he'd seen that mass of darkness flee. Without thinking, the teen took off after it, wearing a hardened scowl as he did his best to chase through the air.
Whatever it was had gained a significant lead, keeping several blocks ahead of the teen as they flew. Trunks was determined to follow as he squinted, the darkness of the night proving a difficult terrain for his eyes to track the fleeing shape as it zigzagged between the towering city structures. The tactic often left the teen guessing each time they reached a junction in the road, whipping his head back and forth before catching a brief glimpse of the darkened figure disappearing down a street, and taking chase once again. His aura flared as he struggled to keep up, a worried thought trickling into his mind that: if this person had this type of speed, who's to say he could challenge it by himself? Should he be instead trying to contact Gohan somehow? The teen gritted his teeth, annoyed at himself for the cowardly thought. No, he wouldn't give up. If it was hurting innocent people, then Trunks was determined to put a stop to it.
The teen noted that whatever it was—whether by chance or the fact that he'd only just been able to keep up with it as it weaved through the city—hadn't seemed to notice him yet. Finally, the shape slowed, hovering for a moment over what Trunks realized were red and blue flashing lights, police sirens? The flashing lights illuminated the figure, and Trunks came to the instant realization that the 'tendrils' he'd been seeing were actually long wisps of hair. A second later, the figure dashed away, and despite his best efforts, Trunks couldn't follow it as it disappeared into the night.
The teen cursed as he appeared above the flashing lights, his head snapping side to side in an effort to catch sight of it again. He tried a moment later to search out an energy source to follow, to no avail. Was it possibly it had finally noticed him and was hiding its ki signature? Trunks blinked, realizing in the moment that he should have been trying to sense its energy signature this whole time. He cursed for a second time, realizing that Gohan had been right; he was too reliant on his eyesight. He was wearing a frown now, his shoulders slumping before he shot a glance downward, and froze.
Below him were two police cars parked before what appeared to be a small gas station, their lights were on and flashing although they were silent otherwise. Two officers had been speaking to a heavy set, middle-aged woman with a uniform that matched the gas station's logo. Notepads were in the officers hands as they took her statement—or at least, they had been. Now, they were looking to the side where a black backpack had landed just next to the woman.
The same backpack the man was carrying…?
The two officers appeared dumbfounded as they stared at the bag, before the woman walked over and picked it up, unzipping it and revealing its contents.
Zeni?
Trunks' eyes were wide open now. The bag had been hastily filled with money that seemed to bring joy to the woman as she recognized it, pulling the bag to her chest in a relieved sigh.
Finally, it all clicked in the Trunks' head. The money, the gun, the police, the bandana covering the man's face; whoever had attacked him hadn't been doing it out of malicious intent, they'd been doing it because the guy had robbed this place. The darkened figure had taken the bag back, and had returned it.
He hadn't been chasing after a new villain eager to cause havoc in the absence of the androids.
He'd been chasing a new hero vigilante!
Trunks gasped, his face lighting up with excitement.
That's so cool!
"Hey! Who's up there?!" He heard a masculine voice call from down below.
Turning his attention back to the police officers, Trunks realized that he hadn't moved from his spot within the flashing lights. All three sets of eyes were on him now, faces looking up to see where the mysterious bag of money had fallen from.
"Uh," Trunks responded awkwardly, panic beginning to set in the pit of his stomach. He made his voice a little deeper, trying to make it sound like someone else's as he shouted, "Your guy is by the corner of Durian street and Mangosteen, bye!"
A moment later, he turned and shot up and into the darkness of the night sky as voices called out after him.
An actual, real life, super hero!
The idea thrilled him more than he'd like to admit. Ofcourse, there was Gohan, and Trunks considered the man a hero in his own respects, but Gohan only ever faced off against the androids. That wasn't to suggest doing so wasn't a colossal burden in and of itself, and Trunks knew that the people regarded the golden warrior with reverence—but this was different! This was a vigilante like the characters in the comics he'd read about as a child!
Although they had been sorta...brutal.
He'd seen what they'd done to the criminal's leg. It didn't look like it would kill with the sirens rushing in, but it wasn't like Trunks was a doctor or anything. He would likely be in the hospital for months at least, years at worst. He didn't know. Had the criminal bled out in the time it took for ambulances to arrive? They were pretty fast now. He was pretty sure...right? He hadn't just...left a man to die when he shouldn't have?
Could he have done something...different?
Should he have?
...Should he have...tried to save the man instead?
Had he made a bad call?
He didn't know.
Alright, on a side note: they're unnecessarily brutal.
He nodded to himself.
But they have the right idea, they just need to relax with the amount of force. What they are doing is not okay.
He grinned.
But still very cool. Kinda like back in the day when-"
His head tilted to the side as the thought jogged a memory. He recalled when he was seven or eight—he couldn't remember which—his mother talking about Gohan being a hero and stopping crime. A frown pulled at Trunks' lips as he thought about it. Was he remembering that right, or had he misheard? And if that memory did prove true, then why had Gohan stopped?
He shook his head; that wasn't the subject to focus on right now. He had a new topic to research.
And maybe forget about the idea he might have made a mistake in saving a man's life.
Focus on the vigilante!
He ordered, forcing the idea to be his main attention.
The teen could feel his heart thundering excitedly in his chest as he flew, not daring to stop until he was hovering just outside of the window to his room. The teen quietly slid it open before slipping inside and making a beeline to the desktop situated in the corner of his bedroom. He plopped down as his fingers began typing eagerly at the keyboard.
A new 'super hero' had just arrived in West City, and Trunks was determined to find out all there was known about them. It took less than an hour for Trunks to finally dig up a News report mentioning the name of the mysterious figure. His eyes trained on the words, whispering under his breath. "The Ghost…"
-Eighteen-
The Ghost let out a frustrated sigh as she landed quietly atop her balcony. She moved swiftly to assure nobody passing by accidently caught a glimpse of a strange individual disappearing into the hotel's suite. Although, she doubted anyone would be able to distinguish anything if they happened to be looking up towards her floor. She'd made a habit of turning off all her lights before she flew off to prowl the streets. Eighteen had made that a rule ever since she'd accidentally left all the lights on, illuminating her contrastingly dark figure as she landed for the entire street to see.
Luckily, she was relatively certain the streets had been empty at the time.
She slipped through the double glass doors, closing them and pulling the blinds closed in one swift motion—before finally relaxing and tossing the wig off of her head with a groan.
"Well, that could have gone better." She mumbled grumpily. It had taken her longer than she would have liked to track down the man since he'd had such a healthy lead before she'd even noticed the robbed gas station; and, as if to be the icing on the shit-cake, she'd managed to pick up a follower on her way back.
"I'm so stupid!" She growled as she buried her palms into her face, collapsing onto the nearby couch as she did so. She'd not been paying attention to her surroundings until the very last moment, when the police sirens had illuminated Trunks' figure in the darkness. It hadn't helped that her hair had obscured her sight the entire time; apparently she hadn't gotten fully used to the disguise just yet
She let her arms fall away as her head fell back with a thump, her gaze drifting upward at nothing. There was nothing she could do about the encounter now.
What was he even doing up? Doesn't he have a damn bedtime or something!?
She shook her head, a part of her wishing she could somehow bust the teen for being out so late without giving away that it had been her he'd been following. After a few minutes of trying to come up with something that would accomplish as much and finding nothing, she rose from her position on the couch. The woman unzipped the tight black suit as she casually made her way towards the bedroom and then past that to the bathroom.
As she passed through the room, her eyes flickered to the set of blueprints resting on the bookshelf where she'd left them.
She winced.
A part of her still felt guilty about refusing her brother a few nights prior. He was right of course, she was the reason he'd lost his arm, and she was his sister after all. Wouldn't a good sister go about doing everything in their power to fix what they broke, especially when it came to family?
Eighteen silently climbed into the shower, having stripped away the rest of her clothing before turning the knob. The steaming water felt good as it ran down her back, her head hung low, her mind lost in thought.
She couldn't say for certain that she'd made the right choice, although she knew she'd definitely made the safest one. She'd assumed that her brother would immediately go back to his rampaging ways once his arm was fixed, that he would simply lead to his own destruction once Gohan came down to stop him like he always did. She could picture Seventeen manipulating her, counting on her to choose his side, counting on her to make a choice that she didn't feel she was ready to make.
If it came down to it, a choice between whether her brother, or Gohan had to die, she knew that she couldn't let her brother perish. He was the only family she had left. She couldn't lose him too.
But what if I was wrong?
What if Seventeen, despite his stubborn nature, could be reasoned with? She'd found a method to control her hatred against humanity, so who's to say he couldn't do the same? Was it wrong of her not to even give him the chance? Was it truly possible that Seventeen could reform and the clash between him and Gohan would never happen? She sighed, the hot water flattening her hair to her scalp. She knew she couldn't take that chance.
Suddenly, her lips curled into a snarl before her fist slammed against the wall at her side, particles of water exploding from the impact.
Why did he have to find out about the blueprints?! All this drama could have been avoided had he never known I have them. How in the hell did he find out in the first place?!
The question had haunted her for the past several days. How had Seventeen come to the knowledge that his blueprints were in her possession? She'd completely and utterly destroyed the lab, leaving little more than an uneven pile of rubble in its place. There couldn't have been a camera or something nearby that she missed, could there? That left the possibility of him having been in the area, seeing her flying off from the lab—but it wasn't like she'd been waving them around for the world to see. They'd been discreetly rolled up and stuffed into her shirt. The most he'd have been able to determine was that she'd been to the lab, not that she'd managed to find anything he hadn't. Besides, if he had happened to be waiting outside, casually sitting out in the pouring rain, and happened to suspect she might have discovered something, wouldn't he have confronted her about it right then and there?
The entire exchange had baffled her. Just how had he known? It wasn't like there was anyone else there to tell him...!
Her eyes grew wide.
Cell?
She'd nearly completely factored him out of the encounter in her haste. But, she'd killed him...hadn't she? She distinctly remembered tearing a giant hole through his chest before detonating a blast on the lab roughly the same level of those she'd used to melt entire cities. Nothing could have survived something like that...could it? She'd long since concluded that Cell was nothing more than a charred corpse—if even that. But, as she considered her brother and what he knew...she began to consider that there actually had been a single soul who'd been there when she'd stripped the blueprints off the wall. Could it be possible that that hideous creation of Dr. Gero had actually survived?
Her thoughts were interrupted as she abruptly heard the sound of her cell phone ringing from inside her bedroom.
Seventeen?!
Was her brother calling her again? She'd tried to call him back before to talk things out—only to find that the number he'd called from was a payphone.
She scrambled, nearly tearing the shower curtain off the pole as she hastily made her way through the bathroom and out into the bedroom. She rushed to the phone, grabbing the device and answering it without paying mind to her still dripping body.
"Brother?" she asked in a sharp breath.
"Uh, no," She immediately recognized the voice as Gohan's. "Sorry, were you expecting a call? Is this a bad time? I can call back some other time if that's better for you."
She blinked, internally glad she hadn't led with the name of 'Seventeen' in her haste. "Uh," Her head turned towards the shower she'd left runnin in her hurry. "No, I wasn't expecting anyone," she lied. Eighteen cleared her throat before taking a deep breath, pushing down her disappointment from not hearing her brother's voice on the other end. "What's up?"
"Oh, uh, well, you see-" his voice trailed off. She could detect a nervousness in his tone. What could he possibly be wanting from her at this time of night?
He cleared his throat. "You see, I was er- wanting to pick your mind about a certain topic."
"Yeah…? And what is that?" She could detect just how uncomfortable he sounded. The tone made her raise an eyebrow in thought. She'd never heard Gohan behave like this before. Usually, he was so calm and collected—as opposed to now where he sounded like a blubbering teenager.
She could hear an audible swallow. "So, to be frank, er- I was just wondering if you'd…" his voice died in his throat for a second time. There was a long pause before he finally spoke, "I just noticed the time, haha. I shouldn't be calling you this late. I'll talk to you about it another time."
"Out with it!" She demanded in a harsh tone, annoyed at Gohan's ramblings. "You've already called me up in the middle of the night. Now, you're gonna tell me why." Her voice was cold and stern, not leaving any room for discussion.
There was silence on the other end for a short time before she heard a defeated sigh escape his lips. "Fine, fine. Just promise not to laugh at me, okay?"
She rolled her eyes. "Yes, fine, whatever. I won't laugh. Now tell me already."
There was a pregnant pause before Gohan's voice returned to the phone. "How do you talk to women?"
Eighteen felt her jaw fall open, her eyebrows crawling as far as they could up her forehead. She had certainly not been expecting that.
"W-what?" She stammered, feeling a warmth in her cheeks.
"You know what, this was a dumb idea. I'm sorry for bothering you so late into the night. I hope you enjoy the rest of your even-"
"No-no-no, wait!" She exclaimed, gesturing with her free hand despite knowing he couldn't see it. "I'm willing to answer. I just wasn't expecting that question is all."
"That's...fair."
"Can I ask one question before I answer though?" Now all of his nervousness from before made sense. That was an awkward question.
"It would be pretty rude for me to say no to your question when I just asked one a few seconds ago."
"Right," Her brow furrowed as she tried to phrase her response just right. "Why are you asking me of all people? I mean, shouldn't you be asking this to like, your mom? Or maybe even Bulma?"
It seemed bizarre to her that he would go to her before those people.
"My mom and I...have a complicated relationship." he sighed. "And Bulma, well, she's a good friend for sure but, hmm, how do I put this?" He let out a nervous laugh. "I've...met the men that Bulma is attracted to, and let's just say I don't exactly trust her to give me the best advice when it comes to dating."
Eighteen raised an eyebrow at the comment, but accepted his answer all the same. "Alright, I guess that makes sense."
"Yeah, I didn't want to bother you about this, but I don't really have a lot of options to choose from."
"Gee, thanks." She said with a bemused grin.
"Er-I didn't mean that as an insult. Sorry. See? This is why I need advice. I end up putting my foot in my mouth half the time."
"Just half the time?" She laughed.
"Most of the time." He corrected with a light chuckle. "Either way, I could use some basic pointers if that's alright."
"Hmm, sure." Eighteen flopped onto the bed, getting comfortable as a smile pulled at her lips. "I'll give you some pointers if you accept that not all of my answers are gonna be good ones."
His voice sounded more chipper on the other end. "That's fine with me. I'll take anything I can get, honestly."
She nodded despite knowing that he still couldn't see her response. Glancing downward, she realized that she still hadn't put anything on since she'd leapt out of the shower.
"Actually, give me a sec. I need to get changed."
"Okay."
It took her only a minute to pull on a robe and turn off the shower she'd left running. During that minute, she thought about how strange this conversation was, and realized that she was actually surprised that Gohan needed advice in the first place. She remembered their first interaction together back at the Blue Dragon bar. He'd seemed so easy to talk to then, so calm and confident, like he hadn't had a care in the world. Had he not been Gohan of all people, she might have even considered him attractive, if only just barely.
Of course, I was the one to talk to him, and I'm pretty sure we were getting pretty hammered at the time.
She supposed that had likely had something to do with her assumption that Gohan knew how to talk to women. Anyone seemed approachable when you were drunk. She nodded to herself. She was drunk. That was it.
"Back." she stated simply as she returned the phone to her ear.
"Glad to hear it."
"So, first things first, and I know you've probably heard it a hundred times but, confidence is key."
"Right. I know that one." His voice sounded closer all of a sudden, as if he were holding the phone with his shoulder and head. She narrowed her eyes as she could hear the faintest sounds of pen scratching—was he writing this down?
"But," she added sharply, "Don't confuse this with being a dick. I've met so many guys who thought walking over and acting like I was less than a person would immediately get me to throw myself at them. People confuse confidence with arrogance all the time. They're close cousins, but definitely not the same." Of course, her advice did date back over a decade ago, back when she and her brother were still human. Since their transformation, choosing a lover had become a far simpler task, although not one she'd taken to frequently. She and her brother's utter disgust with the pitiful human race did put a damper on the prospect of finding one of their kind to enjoy for a night or two. She'd only done so twice, and that had been towards the beginning of their reign of terror; back when humanity didn't know them as the monsters they would eventually become. After a certain point, her interest in finding a mate dwindled to basically nothing, although she did catch Seventeen coming home with a terrified girl from time to time. It wasn't as if those who caught their eye could say no, was it? They were all powerful beings capable of destroying the very world if they so chose—or at least, she was pretty sure they could; she'd never actually tried it before. She figured that any person unfortunate enough to attract their attention would understand their situation, and know they only had one choice in order to make it out of the ordeal alive.
She frowned at the realization. She'd never considered that before. She shuddered, feeling somewhat guilty at the revelation. Of course, they were only humans, so what did it really matter if they suffered? She shrugged. She still thought of them overall as an inferior species, even if she'd found glimpses of how they could fight back if they chose to.
Still, a pang of guilt lingered in the pit of her stomach...for some reason. She decided to ignore it.
Furthermore, did that mean her advice was outdated? Were things different now? She doubted it. It wasn't as if a decade's worth of time could completely change the structure of dating itself.
She decided to continue with her advice regardless. "Basically, stay away from treating the woman as if she doesn't really matter to you. If she thinks you don't care, she won't care. So, write down 'don't be a total tool' and underline it a few times."
"Don't be…a total...tool." a pause, "Wait, you know I'm writing this down?" He sounded surprised.
"Heard the pen scratches." she grinned.
"Oh," He sounded flustered as he cleared his throat, definitely embarrassed. "It helps me think when I write things down."
She let out a soft giggle at his embarrassment. Darn it, he could be straight up cute at times.
Did I just consider him cute?
Nope. A slip of the...mind? Yes, a slip of the mind, nothing more.
"So, next tip: jokes go a long way. If you get them laughing, that's usually a good sign." Her mind flashed back to their night at the bar, when Gohan had been telling stories so humorous she'd been stomping her feet in laughter; a result of the booze most likely.
"Make...funny." She could hear the grin on his face. "So, confidently make them laugh is what I got so far."
"So far, so good." She nodded. "Make sure to listen as well. People, man or woman, want to be heard when they speak. Don't just nod along like you don't care."
"Well...wait, why wouldn't I be listening?" He sounded absolutely perplexed. "How do you have a conversation and not listen to what the other person is saying? Do people do that?"
Good instincts. She smiled. "You'd be surprised, wonderboy. A lot of guys don't really care about the person behind the face. Sometimes, all guys want is to get into the girl's pants."
There was a pause before Gohan's voice sounded with realization. "Oh, ohhhh." his tone shifted, sounding apologetic. "On behalf of all guys...I'm sorry."
"Apology accepted."
Eighteen had gotten burned once in her youth, back when she'd still been in highschool. So young, so foolish, she internally scolded. She'd let herself be tricked by an attractive classmate one year her senior. He'd whispered sweet nothings into her ear, promising her the world, and after one passionate night at his place when his parents weren't home, he'd dumped her the very next day. She'd felt absolutely humiliated from the experience. Of course, she'd felt much better after Seventeen and she had blown up the fancy sports car his parents had bought him. She'd beamed at seeing his distraught face the day after.
The conversation continued throughout the night as Eighteen did her best to come up with ideas that would aid Gohan in his attempt to speak to a woman successfully. From what she could gather, it didn't sound as if the man simply wanted to have a fun, one night stand and ditch. She could tell that he genuinely wanted someone to spend the rest of his life with.
Why doesn't he ask me out, then?
The thought sounded more offended than anything else. What was wrong with her if he wanted something like that? A disturbed look crossed her face as she realized that the thought had left her feeling self-conscious about her body image. She couldn't remember the last time she'd doubted her own appearance. She'd always been confident of her looks.
Proud, powerful and sexy goddess of destruction was basically her unofficial title. And now, Gohan was making her feel like she wasn't enough?
The thought came to her abruptly, and before she could stop it. She frowned, confused at her own outburst. Why had she felt so annoyed when she'd thought about it? It made zero sense. Hadn't she been determined to rid her own thoughts of Gohan being...attractive?
Stop it, Eighteen.
She mentally scolded herself as she returned her attention to the conversation.
"Alright," Gohan's voice sounded happy as he continued, "I think I've got a good list here. Thank you, Videl. You have no idea how much this helps."
"No problem. Anytime." She responded, a frown forming from her lips as she began to mentally panic. It sounded as if the conversation was lulling to an end, and she was quickly realizing she didn't want it to.
"Alright, well, you probably want to sleep. I hope you enjoy the rest of your-"
"Why don't we meet up tomorrow?" she blurted out. The panic had left her with little time to think, and the words had come all at once.
"Um, I'm sorry?" Gohan's voice sounded confused.
"What I meant to say," She continued, drawing a deep breath as she did her best to collect herself. "Is that we should go out and get you a new outfit...and Trunks too." She added quickly as the prospect of being alone with Gohan somehow...intimidated her. She didn't know what to think about that thought, but she did remember mentally promising giving Trunks a new look back during their camping trip. "I'm pretty good with fashion. Girls like guys who know how to dress themselves."
There was a short pause on Gohan's end before he spoke. "Huh, that does make sense. Sure, I'll let Trunks know. He should be free, I think. I'll ask in the morning."
"Sounds good." She felt her lips curl into a smile. "Let me know, okay?"
"Will do." A pause. "And thanks, Videl...this means a lot.
Eighteen blinked, the somberness to his tone taking her by surprise. Her response was slow, and without the energy of her previous comments. "You're welcome...it's the least I can do for someone who is training me for free."
Gohan let out a soft laugh. "Honestly, Videl, I should be thanking you for taking an interest in my training."
"...I'm sorry?" her brow furrowed in confusion. What did he mean? He was doing a service, one which karate and taekwondo instructors charged a fee for—while simultaneously being several times less useful than what Gohan was teaching her.
"Well, I guess I'm just happy to know there's still people out there willing to fight. For a long time, I thought I was it. Before the androids, I had a whole gang of friends willing to fight. Things were scary back then, too, but somehow, with people by my side, they felt less scary. They fought, risking their lives...and then they were gone. After awhile, I figured that with the androids around, no one dared to stand up to meant the task fell to me. For a long time, I was the only one willing to fight."
Eighteen's mind flashed back to memories; memories of Gohan as a youth, memories of Gohan as a young teenager doing all he could to stall them as people ran away screaming. During that time, the young man was hardly a challenge for even one of them, but, nonetheless, he persisted, doing all he could to hinder their destruction.
"Then, Trunks took an interest, and the relief set in that if one day, I do fall, there would be someone to take my place, someone to continue the fight when I couldn't."
Eighteen closed her eyes. She could only imagine the mental stress of someone knowing that they were all the world had to offer; that they, and they alone held back the destruction of humanity. She tried to tell herself that had she and Seventeen actually managed to kill Gohan after all these years, they wouldn't have gone on a rampage that decimated the rest of civilization. She tried desperately to convince herself that eventually, they would have found a stopping point and would have left humanity alone, at least for a time.
She tried.
And failed.
She knew herself, and she knew her brother. She knew that, without resistance, her old self and her brother would have gone on a killing spree, one which the world would have not been able to survive. Right now, there was still civilization—that much alone proved just how hard Gohan had worked to save it. She wondered where the world would be now had he not spent his time distracting herself and her brother, leaving time for people to run away. People who would seek to rebuild, and rise to the challenge of attempting to fix a broken world.
"Then, you came along, Videl." There was a hitch to his voice, subtle, but there. "It taught me that people would always rise to fight the good fight. There will always be good to confront evil. Hell, after only a few training sessions, you followed Trunks out to an actual battle against the androids to give your support. You flew out to help me when you sensed my energy skyrocket that one time during my personal training. That showed me that you have the will to do something great. You're brave, Videl. I'm proud to have you as a student, and I'm even prouder to know you'll be there with Trunks if something happens to me. Knowing that...makes me feel like the world is in good hands if ever I...well, you know." He let out an uncomfortable laugh. "Wow, that got dark didn't it? Sorry about that. I ramble sometimes."
"You're wrong."
"...What?"
Eighteen had sat up during Gohan's explanation, sitting at the edge of the bed with her head cast downward. "I said, you're wrong about me. I'm not brave. I'm not...the things you think of me." Her voice was monotone, empty. She was staring at her lap, but her eyes weren't seeing. Instead, her mind was filled with the countless atrocities she and her brother had committed. She thought of the people she'd personally sought to execute herself, paired with the buildings she'd carelessly blown up; thinking little of the people trapped inside whose fates she'd sealed.
She thought of all the times she'd brutalized Gohan's still developing body. She tried to remember each time she'd attacked the youth, breaking a bone or delivering a blast of energy that left the young man screaming in pain. At the time, she'd thought he'd been weak to let out such a blood curdling scream; It had even been amusing to her. She'd felt that such a feminine scream sounded funny coming out of a voice so youthful.
Now, all she felt was guilt.
"What do you mean?" Gohan asked, confused.
"I…" She wanted to tell him. She wanted to let him know right then and there who she really was. She wanted him to know that she was the one responsible for his tortured life. Eighteen boiled with rage, snarling at her past, at the person who'd terrorized Gohan throughout his entire adolescence. She wanted to let him know that his anger, his frustrations, all of the hate he felt in this world should be directed towards herself. Eighteen felt she deserved that much, not this...praise she was suddenly receiving. It felt wrong that the man thought so highly of her after all she'd done to him. Like a small dog wagging its tail after you'd just finished torturing it for hours, it's praise only coming after feeding it a small treat for retribution.
I don't deserve this. This is...wrong.
Her resolve hardened, her decision made.
"Gohan, I need to tell you something."
"Uh, sure, what's up?" She could tell that he was still not certain on what to make of her previous comment.
"My name's not really Videl, my real name is-"
Her voice caught in her throat. Her mind racing, she thought to herself, evaluating what she thought would actually be accomplished by doing this. Gohan would hate her, cease to talk to her, and possibly hunt her down if he felt he had a chance at it.
But...maybe he'd see that I've changed, wouldn't he? He's a good person, wouldn't he try to see that I'm not the same person I was before? Could I try and convince him to forgive me?
She shook her head.
Fat chance.
She'd been a monster too long. She'd personally slaughtered all of his closest friends. Eighteen had destroyed most of the civilized world, committing countless genocides in the process. Who could forgive a person like that?
She realized at that moment she couldn't do it. She didn't want Gohan to hate her. She liked talking to the young man, even if it was under the guise of 'Videl'. She didn't want to lose him, even if it meant lying to him.
"...Your name isn't really 'Videl'? So, what is it?" Gohan repeated.
Eighteen's eyes grew wide, realizing she'd locked up on the final word. Panicked, she let out the first name that came to mind.
"Lazuli."
Her face paled as she realized the name she'd spoken; her true name. The name she'd received at birth, before Dr. Gero had turned her into a monster.
"Lazuli." His voice sounded like he was rolling the name around in his mouth, evaluating it. "I like it. It sounds pretty, but, then why do you go by 'Videl' now?"
She swallowed anxiously. She really hadn't meant to let that name slip out, although, she couldn't exactly tell why she was so worried about it. She and her brother had ceased using their original names once they'd been freed from Dr. Gero's control. It had felt more natural to call her brother by his android name, and vice versa. She'd figured it was a result of Dr. Gero's programming to behave in such a manner, and the duo had never given it a second thought. That being said, she couldn't imagine anyone recognizing her old self by the name, so why was she so nervous?
She had nothing to worry about, right?
"I decided to change it a few years back." She lied. "I thought 'Videl' fit me more."
"Oh, okay. So, which do you prefer to go by? Videl, or Lazuli?"
She paused, giving the question some thought. Did she want to go back to her original name? She had a chance to return to the girl she'd been before all of this mayhem. Sure, she'd still been up to no good at that age, but she hadn't killed anyone yet either.
"No," she finally responded, "I think Videl suits me better. I just wanted to let you know is all."
"...Okay, so, what was all that about me being wrong about you? If you don't mind me asking, that is."
"Oh…" She frowned. "I just...have a lot of history is all. I know the things I've done, and I can't see myself as brave."
Gohan's voice sounded warm as he spoke. "I get it. Trust me, I really do."
Eighteen raised an eyebrow at the comment. "You do?"
"Absolutely," he let out a soft chuckle, one that hid a tone of hurt behind it, shame? "There's times that I don't feel that I'm brave enough. There's even times in my past I thought of myself as a coward."
Eighteen felt flabbergasted. How could Gohan, the man who'd single handedly fought off herself and her brother for over a decade think himself a coward of all things?
"That's ridiculous!" She said louder than she'd meant to. "You are definitely not a coward, Gohan!" She spoke in a commanding tone, almost offended at the young man for even saying something like that about himself.
Another laugh rumbled from Gohan. "I know, I know. I realize that now, but at the time, I thought it was true. There'd be times when I was fighting the androids and one of them would score a critical hit. I would be left with a wound that I thought would kill me if I didn't get help right away. I knew I had to get away in those moments, save myself and doom those who had yet to escape the city or town they were destroying." there was an added, hate filled emphasis on the word 'they' as he spoke it. "I felt in those moments—flying away from the carnage I could still hear behind me—that had I been stronger, had I been less of a coward, I could have stayed and tried to help those people I left behind." There was a slow sigh. "I still think like that sometimes. What I'm getting at, is there are plenty of things in our past that we may not be proud of now, but that just means that the 'you' you are today is a better person than the person you were yesterday."
Eighteen could hear the smile in Gohan's words as he continued. "Maybe the person you were before wasn't very brave, but, I can tell you first hand that you are probably one of the bravest people I know, Videl."
Eighteen's mouth opened and closed as she tried to prepare a response to his statement, but she couldn't find the right words to say. She wanted to refute him, tell him he was still wrong and that he didn't understand and a million other reasons why she wasn't the 'good' he saw rising up to stop the 'evil'.
Instead, she decided to go with another response. "...Thanks, Gohan. That means...well, you have no idea how much that means to me." she answered honestly. She knew one thing was right about what Gohan had said; she definitely felt like she was a better person than she'd been before.
That had to count for something...right?
"No problem, and hey, you can repay me with picking out some snazzy new outfits tomorrow, right?"
"Right, tomorrow." she sniffed, frowning as she realized she felt warmth running down her cheeks. When had she started crying? She rubbed at her eyes before adding, "It's getting late, I'll talk to you tomorrow, Gohan."
"Goodnight."
"Night."
The line went dead, her wrist going limp as the device fell from her hand. She fell back, feeling exhausted despite her unlimited energy supply.
She replayed the conversation back in her mind. She'd actually told Gohan her real name.
"Well, at least I can say I didn't lie about that."
Her eyes stared out towards the bookshelf as she laid in bed, hoping for sleep to claim her soon. She didn't know why, but she'd begun to sleep more and more lately. Before, she'd always stayed up for days on end, never tiring, never concerning herself with the barbaric practice. Despite this, over the past weeks she'd decided to sleep several times, feeling exhausted from some of her days.
She'd never felt exhaustion before.
How strange.
Her eyes drifted until they fell on the rolled up set of blueprints resting on her bookshelf composed of books preselected by the hotel staff. She hadn't touched even a single one of them. She didn't like to read.
Despite this, her eyes lingered on the rolled up blueprints. Her thoughts began to drift back to Gohan, and the torments she'd put him through. She thought back to Trunks, dutifully sifting through the debris from Gohan and her brother's battle for an arm that might restore Gohan's lost one. An idea began to form in her mind…
Not tonight.
She rolled over, forcing her eyes closed as she determined that she wasn't going to decide that tonight. Gohan was still a major threat to herself if he ever found out her secret. He was already too powerful to handle with a single arm, imagine if she managed to restore his other one? What an incredible threat he would be then. No, she couldn't do it. It would be too risky.
Still...
-Cell-
Cell found himself pondering about the situation he'd found himself in over the last couple of days. Not unpleasant by any means but, rather strange nonetheless.
Seventeen had returned from his trip to the city with what he could only describe as an evil determination. Cell immediately picked up on the tension in Seventeen's words, and had hesitantly revealed to the android the fact that he would need many victims before he'd possess the intellect needed to fix Seventeen's arm. Cell had expected an explosive response, but instead Seventeen had merely nodded his head, and set to work. Each day now he'd received a fresh human to dine on. Never alive, which disappointed Cell at times, although that wasn't to say he disliked them either. A dead human always had more to give him than that of any living animal. Despite this, he'd still protested to Seventeen that he gained more knowledge if they were alive when he absorbed them.
Something about the processing of their being while still their hearts thumped with life gave him so. Much. More.
Seventeen had cursed and threatened Cell for not being satisfied he was doing this at all. But, later, he'd admitted that he would try and get victims alive from now on.
How strange.
Cell absently thought to himself. He sat within a quaint log cabin that was mostly still intact. The front door had been broken down, and the steel coated 'safe' room's door had shared a similar fate—but other than that, the domain had been left alone. The living room, the beds, the kitchen had all been left untouched and were intact—albeit with some leaves blown in from the gaping hole of the front door.
Cell had suggested the home upon Seventeen's complaint that they hadn't a place to stay. Seventeen had expressed concern about the cabin's occupants strangely, but Cell had reassured him that this family had already been dealt with. Cell rubbed at the base of the bone structured crown mounting his forehead. He could still feel a numb pain where that mother had managed that lucky shot on him. He was still a little upset he hadn't been the one to end her life, that privilege had been stolen away from him by the husband—who he had so thoroughly enjoyed drinking.
A thump from outside pulled Dr. Gero's final creation from his thoughts. Cell scrambled from his position in the living room, eager to see what Seventeen had brought him this time.
He stuck his head out the window, tilting his head curiously at the android.
Seventeen was clutching an entire cow by the neck. Cell could tell by the limp way the rest of its body folded on the ground, that its neck had been snapped. He could also tell by the cows frantic, panicked eye movements that it had yet to be killed, only paralyzed.
Perfect.
Cell rushed over, first on all fours, but noticing Seventeen's disgusted leer, he righted himself for the final few steps.
I wonder why he won't hunt the local wildlife.
Seventeen had brought him back animals, sure, but only ever cattle, or horses, or perhaps a sheep even—although those seemed to leave a mess afterwards. The animals varied from time to time, but for the most part they all seemed like creatures someone might discover in a farm. It was clear that Seventeen had been visiting some farm however miles away. It seemed so inefficient in Cell's eyes; didn't Seventeen see how much time he was wasting in searching so far for something that was already here?
Cell shook his head, grinning.
Simply another mark of the differences between the Doctor's failed experiment and his perfect one.
He grinned at the contrast. Over the last few days his mind had begun to accelerate at an alarming rate as he began to eat man daily. It had fascinated him, and since Seventeen was already killing for him—as well as got mad at him whenever he hunted the nearby wildlife—that left Cell with the time to think.
At first, it was merely his brain working with what it had gained, chewing on the piece of mind he'd inherited from his most recent victim's past life. Then, once he was finished, he'd incorporate that information with the rest of what he knew, drawing conclusions about how normal society worked as well as other pieces of immediate knowledge that he did not know.
It allowed him to finally grasp the understanding of what a cell phone actually was—since at first he'd merely known it to be a word, no more than a concept.
He used much of what he already knew to extrapolate other concepts, like coming to the conclusions that the typical human trips easily considering how flat they need their sidewalks to be. He'd never been towards a city before—too risky—but these more recent victims had all lived there, so he'd get flashes of what city life was like; rather mundane, in his opinion. Either way, the end result was feeling his mind grow, his thoughts advancing as more of his mind began the process of becoming complete.
"How wonderfully large." Cell complimented in his raspy voice, a hint of a quiver in the last word indicating his excitement.
"Don't talk to me." Seventeen responded coldly, taking several steps back before finding a tree stump to sit on.
Same as usual.
Cell had watched Seventeen perform the exact same movement to the exact same tree stump every time he returned with what would become Cell's most recent victim. He would stay, watching with a cold, and at times disgusted look, for only long enough for Cell to complete his meal. Afterwards, he would rise into the air again and disappear, only to return in a matter of hours with Cell's next victim. This meant that this process would continue on into the night, and into the next day since neither of them truly needed sleep.
Of course, there were times when he did not watch. There were times when Seventeen's gaze would drift off, his focus still there, but staring at something in his mind; something only he could see. Cell would see the android's face twist into a vicious snarl then, before he snapped out of his trance, blinking as if realizing he'd dozed off.
Cell was hoping that, during this meal he would fall into a trance again. He had a plan. He'd formed several during his time thinking. What was one to do with so much time on their hands but think? He supposed he could train, but he was gaining so many victims, his power growing with each one, he figured his power was growing at a steady enough rate. No, he'd decided to devise a plan, one that he felt Seventeen would fall for quite easily.
As long as he dozes off this time…
Cell quietly, and sneakily studied the android—not daring to shoot more than a brief glance his way, and never long enough for Seventeen to notice. He plunged the sharp point of his tail into the cow's stomach. Blood attempted to spill out of the sides of the massive gape, but then he began to drink, stopping the blood as it retreated back into the cow and into him.
Cell watched, concealing his amusement at Seventeen's immediate recoil from the process. It seemed to sicken the android, and yet Seventeen refused to look away. He never turned his head away, never too disgusted to continue watching the show.
A morbid curiosity, perhaps?
Seventeen was quite the professional killer, Cell supposed. The android had likely killed more men than Cell could currently count to—literally. Was it perhaps then possible that, over his years he'd never seen a creature lose its life in the way Cell did it? Imbedding himself into the unfortunate soul, before sucking away all of its biological components, its face and form melting slowly in agony. But, despite this agony, it was still alive, still alive in those painful, torturous moments. Of course, by this point his victim was already knocking on death's door. There is no hope for them, they were definitely going to die without all the parts Cell had already swallowed. It was only once he consumed them completely that they became truly dead, when they were finally released from their torment.
Was it possible that Seventeen secretly liked how demented this process was?
Cell shuddered in delight from this most recent extrapolation.
It was so much fun to learn!
Cell decided to absorb the cow slowly this time. Ofcourse, this meant more pain for the cow who had to exist in this melted state for that much longer, but that didn't bother Cell. Although, it proved to be a more difficult process than he'd thought, since his instincts roared for him to greedily suck away at the cow's life, to focus on efficiency, to be done with it and move on!
Not this time however, this time, he had a plan.
He waited, patiently as slowly, Seventeen's eyes began to glaze over from the sight. He was still staring towards Cell, but he could tell that he wasn't seeing him.
Cell waited a while longer before Seventeen's line of sight had shifted, staring more to the left of Cell now.
He could make out the scowl on Seventeen's face as he glared at whatever he was picturing.
Cell took a deep breath, preparing himself for this plan. He did his best to softly clear his voice, before speaking two quick words.
"What's up?" The voice that emerged didn't sound like his own, however. It sounded softer, more feminine with a cold twist mixed in.
He'd only spoken to her for a handful of short sentences, but he had practiced from what he remembered, his mind replaying her words time and time again to reconstruct what he could of her voice box. He hadn't known at the start of this process that he could mimic voices, but the part of him that had pushed him to learn had known he could.
He was the perfect being after all, wasn't he? It made sense to Cell why in Dr. Gero's brilliance he would design him with such an ability.
And now, he sounded damn near identical to Android Eighteen; or at least, he hoped so.
The response came immediately and absentmindedly, his gaze never shifting to meet Cell's eyes. "Just pissed off about Blondie. I'm gonna tear his other arm off since he did this to-" He made a gesture with his head towards his missing arm, before freezing mid sentence. He frowned, his brow knitting together before he twisted his face to meet Cell's.
"What'd you say?" he sounded confused.
"Nothing." Cell lied quickly, returning to his own vocal cords as he did. He watched with satisfaction as the android spun his head around, searching into the trees for the source of the sound. There were several seconds of silence as Seventeen rose to his feet, his eyes narrowing to slits as he scanned the treeline, only to return his suspicious gaze to Cell.
Cell cocked his head to the side. "Yes?"
Seventeen's scowl returned as he sat back down and turned his head away. "Fuck off."
Cell forced down an amused chuckle as he finally finished the rest of his cow.
That's one mystery down…
So, it seemed that Son Gohan really had been the one responsible for Seventeen's injury. He'd had his suspicions, but the confirmation had been what he was after. That coupled with the fact that Seventeen was no longer working alongside Android Eighteen led Cell to the assumption that...perhaps Seventeen had faced Gohan on the battlefield alone.
And he'd lost.
So, Gohan is finally strong enough to confront one of the androids?
That was valuable knowledge to know indeed. If Gohan was strong enough to defeat Seventeen, then that meant he needed to shift the time tables on his plans. He couldn't afford to wait the years he'd been assuming he'd have to grow strong enough to confront the androids—not with the chance of Gohan destroying them before he got the chance.
Well then, I suppose it's time for the second part of my plan.
He cleared his throat as he watched Seventeen rise and prepare to lift into the air.
"So, you lost to Gohan, did you?"
Immediately, Seventeen's pale blue eyes snapped to him, glaring daggers into his carapace.
"I will kill you if you don't shut your creepy looking mouth." he hissed.
Celled raised his hands in a defensive gesture. "It was merely a guess from what I have learned. I'm also willing to bet that the reason you failed was due to Eighteen's absence?" Cell watched Seventeen critically as he said the last part of his sentence.
The android winced in response, but remained silent.
That was all the confirmation I needed.
Cell grinned.
Seventeen snarled, stomping forward before reaching out and snatching Cell by his throat. "I swear to you, green man, if you say just one more word I'm going to rip your head from your body, and then I'm gonna keep doing it until I get bored."
The threat caused fear to blossom within Cell, but he decided to persist none-the-less. "I merely want to let you know that Eighteen had been in a disguise when I encountered her."
Cell winced, feeling the grip on his throat tighten as Seventeen prepared to make good on his promise. Cell's eyes were forced closed as he struggled within the android's grasp, only to feel the grip ease at the very last minute.
"What?"
Perfect.
Cell grinned to himself, knowing he'd finally gained the android's attention.
"Why didn't you tell me this before!" Seventeen growled before slamming Cell to the ground with a heavy boom. Cell let out a cough, feeling that several of his ribs had cracked in the exchange, his windpipe crushed, but quickly restoring itself.
Once it did, he spoke."You did not want to speak to me before."
"Out with it!" Seventeen demanded, looming over Cell's prone form with a foot on his chest. "What do you mean she was in disguise?"
"I meant what I said." Cell rasped, feeling the air return to his lungs. "When I encountered Eighteen back at the lab, she had long black hair and her eyes had been changed to black. She even had…" he frowned. He didn't know the exact term for it. There had been...paint? Was it called paint? "Some sort of…" he raised a hand and ran it down his cheek. "Coating on her face, partially washed away by the rain."
"Makeup…" Seventeen murmured as he took a step back, his face no longer furious. He sat on the grass, his hand cupping his chin in thought. "So that's how she did it. She's fooling him."
Fooling 'him'?
The lack of a proper name frustrated Cell. Who was Eighteen fooling? And did it have anything to do with Seventeen's situation? He wanted to snap and order the android to tell him, but this entire exchange had been planned in order to draw from Seventeen as much information as he could.
"Yes, it was quite convincing. It even managed to fool me for a matter of moments."
Seventeen's eyes narrowed before he turned his attention back to Cell. "Why are you telling me this now?"
"I thought it might be something you'd like to know."
"Bullshit!" Seventeen stomped as he rose back to his feet. "I don't believe that for a second. You want something out of this, I know you do."
Cell sighed as he rose to his feet, one hand rubbing his throat where Seventeen had been gripping him moments before. "I am just curious. There is so much I do not know. I wanted to know what drove you and our sister away from each other."
"Our sister?" Seventeen asked with narrowed eyes.
"We are all victims of Dr. Gero's madness, are we not?" Cell had learned early on that Seventeen did not appreciate the gift Dr. Gero had given him, often treating the process as a terrible ordeal of some type. Cell had decided to use that to his advantage. "We are each born of the same evil, the same torment." he shrugged. "In my eyes, that makes us siblings, does it not?"
Seventeen scoffed. "There's no way I could have a brother as ugly as you."
"I am quite hideous, I will admit that much." Cell said offhandedly, although inside he thought much the opposite. He was meant to be the perfect being. He was beautiful in every way, just because he was ugly by a flawed being's standards meant little to him.
"Either way, I'd like to know what happened to Eighteen, if you wouldn't mind."
Seventeen reviled at the response. "I don't have to tell you anything, monster."
"You don't, but I am your ally. You've supplied me with many sacrifices over the last several days, and their essence has grown my mind several fold during that time. It is possible I may be able to help your situation."
Cell waited eagerly for a response. This was his plan. He needed Seventeen to begin to trust him. He needed to build up a rapport with the android so that eventually, Seventeen would leave his guard down long enough for him to gain his piece of perfection.
The android's response was not immediate as his eyes glared suspiciously Cell's way. Eventually, he spoke in a low, angry rumble. "Eighteen switched sides. She's...with Blondie now."
Cell's eyes grew wide from the new piece of information. She was with Blondie? What did that mean?"
"They are mates?" He asked bluntly.
"Hell no!" Seventeen snapped angrily. "But…" his rage began to taper off. "She has gotten herself convinced that this whole 'killing people and ruling the world' thing is somehow wrong." He shook his head incredulously. "He got in her head somehow, and I can't figure out a way to change her back."
Cell paused for several moments, his eyes narrowed with thought as he considered the new piece of information. Then, an idea came to him.
"Why not switch to her side?"
Seventeen raised an eyebrow in Cell's direction. "They fuck do you mean Bug-boy?" The android took a dangerous step towards Cell. "You want me to just give it all up? Stop killing and become a goodie-two-shoes like my sister is? Because there isn't a chance in hell I'm gonna be doing that any time soon!"
Cell took a nervous step back, shaking his head frantically as he formed a response. "No, no, that is definitely not what I'm suggesting. That would mean that our arrangement would come to an end, an arrangement I'm quite enjoying." He cleared his throat, his fear receding as he watched Seventeen's rage cool. "What I'm suggesting is that you pretend that you plan to reform. Convince Eighteen that you are not going to rampage across the city anymore, and who knows? Perhaps you could even gain her trust enough to retrieve a certain set of documents that you are after."
He watched Seventeen's eyes widen as he began to understand.
"A certain set of documents which I could then craft into your arm."
Seventeen drew closer, his eyes focused on Cell's.
"Keep talking, Bug-man."
Cell grinned to himself.
Perfect.
Author's Note:
Welcome back everyone! I know that it's been some time, but admittedly these chapters take awhile to make considering their regular length. Hopefully, this satisfies you all for a little while. Although, admittedly, this time around it's not completely my fault for the delay. My computer had a critical error from a windows update and I had to take it into the shop for a repair that took awhile. Then, I had a harddrive malfunction and had to replace that on top of everything which set me back a week. To summarize: I had technical difficulties.
There's not much else to say in regards to this chapter. A big thanks as always to Ben Thryss for taking the time to comb through the chapter and fix my grammar mistakes here and there (Nothing new there haha)
As for the contents of the chapter, there was some character development, as well as a few new developments towards what I have planned for the future. Eighteen is beginning to grow suspicious of Cell's survival, Gohan is starting to try and do something more with his life, and Cell is beginning to draw closer to the presence we knew in the original show. I enjoy writing Cell as an intelligent individual, one who was made to be a genius by Dr. Gero considering he was meant to be 'perfect'. I also wanted to do a little bit of world building where I could, hopefully those sections didn't bog down the chapter too much considering I tried to keep them relatively short. I just want this world to feel real so that the impact of the android's terror is that much more understood.
All in all, I think I did decently in this installment. That being said, be sure to let me know what you think in the reviews! The reception to this fanfic overall has been wonderful, and as always, I'll do my best to respond to each review in due time.
Until next time!
