Dragon Ball: Makafushigi Adventure
By Reid M. Haynes
Disclaimer: Dragon Ball and all characters within are the property of Akira Toriyama, TOEI ANIMATION, and various other companies. I am using them without permission, and I am making no money off of them.
Legend:
( ) Denotes thoughts.
Tale 7: We Were Angels
*****
"Oide Fantasy,"
"Sukina Mystery,"
"Will you please shut up now?" Oolong muttered as he steered the car down the rocky road. "You been singing for the past hour! Let it go!"
Goku and Bulma looked at the pig, then at each other. With mischievous smiles, they leaned closer to Oolong.
"Kimi no wakasa kakusanaide...!"
"RRRARGH!!!" Oolong slammed his hands on the wheel, squeezing a hoarse, grating beep from the car-horn.
It had been like this ever since they left the karaoke place. Bulma and Goku would burst out with some ridiculous song, and Oolong would tell them, in the most polite voice he could muster, to please shut the hell up, which of course would be totally ignored. Worse still, since Puar and Yamcha were still suffering from massive hangovers, he had no one to back him up, so he was left stranded in the minority.
Oolong briefly glanced back at Trunks, wondering if he'd be willing to put an end to the karaoke terror known as Goku and Bulma. But Trunks seemed too much into his own thoughts to care too much. In fact, Trunks had been like that even since they retrieved the Three Star Ball. He spoke only when spoken to, and tuned out everything else, save taking furtive glances at Bulma.
(What's the hell's his deal?) Oolong's eyes narrowed as he kept Trunks in the corner of his vision. (Ever since we left, he's been acting like a damn spy. What's he so worried about anyway?)
Oh well, curiosity killed the cat, not the pig. "Hey Trunks," Oolong tapped him on the shoulder.
"W-wha..." Trunks jerked out of his trance, going rigid for a moment "What is it?" he managed, calming down a bit.
"Hey, you alright?" Oolong raised his eyebrow. "You look kinda out of it."
"I'm fine," Trunks muttered quickly, turning away from the pig.
"C'mon, don't give me that," he admonished, frowning. "You're worried about something. Admit it."
"It's nothing, really," Trunks kept his eyes trained on the countryside. They grew distant and hazy, seeing the mountains and forests only as vague blurs on the horizon. Then, he turned back around, glancing quickly at Bulma and Goku. When he say that they were distracted, he sighed and leaned up to Oolong's ear.
"You really don't notice anything strange?" Trunks asked in a low whisper.
"Strange about what?" Oolong responded, non-comprehending.
"This whole trip...there's something different about all of this." he continued. "I feel that this is just a prelude to disaster."
"How so?"
"Things are happening." Trunks' eyes grew sharp and calculating. "I don't know whether they're good or bad, but I do know that they will change many things. And I just fear...that the consequences will be catastrophic."
"Trunks, what are you getting at?" Oolong started to lose his patience. "You're not telling me something. What do you know that we don't?"
"I...can't tell you everything," His eyebrows furrowed, contemplating on how much more he could say. "Just know that events will come to pass, and they might be what you least expect."
"What events?!" Oolong demanded. "What are you talking about?! Hey, Trunks!"
But Trunks had closed his eyes to the pig, going back into his deep meditation. And Oolong knew that that all was he would get out of him, for the moment.
*****
Guided by its centrifugal force, the Hoi-Poi capsule whirled through the air on a low arc to the flat space on the plain. Impacting on the hard turf, the unknown mechanisms set to work executing their function, masked by a pink haze of smoke. And when it was over, a medium sized capsule cabin stood among the trees and wildflowers.
"There we go!" Bulma put away her Hoi-Poi case in her side pocket. "Let's hit the showers!" Picking up a large suitcase, she led the group into the house's welcoming door.
Goku stood a moment more staring at the mysterious contraption, then shook his head in awe. No matter how many times he saw it, this whole "houses coming out of caplets" thing still baffled the daylights out of him. But he shrugged it off and followed the others in. After all, there were plenty of years left to get used to it.
The overhead lights were already activated, and the cooling systems emitted a low hum throughout the small house. The luminescence shone off the white walls, giving it a slightly sterile appearance. And yet, there was still enough personality in the room to give it a lived-in feel. Brightly colored flowers decorated the tabletops, and pictures of family and friends adorned the walls, giving a sort of 'home away from home' look to the cold shelter.
On the round table lay the group's various commodities: Bulma's capsule case, Trunks' sword, etc. so Goku followed suit and placed his Nyoibo with the rest. Then, on second thought, he pulled his outer gi vest over his head and threw it onto the pile, leaving him clad in his navy muscle shirt and orange pants.
He kept Sushinchu on him, though.
To his right, Goku heard a blunt clicking mechanism. He turned his head, and saw Bulma exiting her room. "Well, the others are all asleep," she said, heading over to the coffee machine. "I think I'm going to stay up a bit later, though." After pouring a cupful, she turned to the TV room. "Feel free to do whatever, Goku." she tossed over her shoulder. "You know, train, eat..." She let the line trail off, and continued out of the room.
Goku turned back to the table, and grabbed his vest off the pile. Methodically, he pushed his head in through it, and started to work his arms through the short sleeves. He was almost done with the left one when he was hit with a sudden revelation.
Didn't he just take these things off?
Goku immediately ceased his actions and put his right hand to his chin, his left still caught in his shirt. What was he doing, again? Getting ready to train, right?
No, that's not what he was going to do. His actions, taking off his shirt and Nyoibo, blatantly stated that he hadn't been planning on training at all. When he thought about it, he realized he hadn't trained since a week ago, when he left with Yamcha and Puar on the Dragon Ball hunt.
So if he wasn't going to train...
What was he planning on doing?
Goku blinked his eyes, then started to take off the vest again. Whatever he was going to do, it was obviously not training. He could always catch up on martial arts some other day. Right now he'd find something else to do.
After placing his outer garment on the table, he scanned the room, looking for inspiration. Instinctually, he picked out the refrigerator out of the array of appliances in the homely little room.
Five minutes later, Goku had created his grand masterpiece. Somewhat of a fusion between a taco salad and a chocolate custard pie, this confection stood about three feet out of the green bowl that contained it. Within its confines were eggs, tomatoes, and soy sauce. And on top, it was garnished with mushrooms, whipped cream, and just a touch of fried wolf. Truly, a venerable feast in its own right.
Picking up the bowl with both hands, Goku licked his lips hungrily. It'd been a while since he'd had a good home-cooked meal. Opening his mouth wide, he prepared to gulp it down.
But just before he put his lips to the rim, his ears picked off a variety of miscellaneous sounds from the other half of the house. He peeked in through a crack in the door to see an illuminated Bulma, crying her eyes out over a soap.
Goku groaned. Why do women always get themselves so worked up over such silly things? It's just flashy lights in a box that just happen to look like people, and places, and monsters...
Monsters...
Goku's eyes lit up with an evil gleam...
*****
The tears poured out of her eyes as Bulma cried her heart out for the sorrows of Chad and Miriam, two lovers that never could seem to get together. There they were, just about to admit their true love when suddenly, Miriam's husband walked in the door, revealing that Chad had been having affairs with five other women, the least of which is that they were all hermaphroditic serial killers. The drama increased when Chad suddenly came down with a strange lung virus, and had to sell his expensive sports convertible and auction off all his children to pay for the medical costs. Not to mention that during his stay at the hospital, his evil twin suddenly resurfaced, and started to wreak havoc with his social life. But the most shocking development was when Chad suddenly turned into a five foot Godzilla-type monster and spewed burning fire straight at Bulma's HEAD!!!
"WWWAAAHHH!!!" Bulma flew down onto the floor onto her rump, gaping at the horrifying image. Her eyes franticly whirled around, only to catch sight of the alleged perpetrator: the martial artist known as Goku, remote in hand and laughing like crazy.
"Goku, youuu..." she seethed, rising up slowly. She curled her fingers with the intent of inflicting bodily harm upon Goku's person.
"Hey, have a sense of humor, Bulma!" he said easily, walking up to the easy chair. A large bowl was cupped in his arm, which he placed on the table before plopping down in the seat and putting his feet up.
"So...whatcha doin'?" He folded his arms behind his head, smiling easily.
"Nothing really," Bulma sighed, brushing a wandering strand of hair out of her face.
But Goku just grinned wider. "Nothing?" he said, raising his eyebrows. "Sounds cool."
Bulma looked strangely at Goku for just a moment. Then, she let the grin crawl onto her face. "Okay then," she said, snatching up the remote and flicking though channels randomly.
*****
After about thirty minutes, Goku and Bulma were seated on the couch, watching the closing credits to the program they had decided upon. Between then sat the green bowl, the dessert down to about a fourth of its former height. Their postures were saggy and relaxed, and both of them looked very comfortable.
At first, there was a bit of strife in the way of channel watching. Bulma wanted to continue her soap opera, while Goku wanted to turn to the cooking channel. In the end, after some more arguing and a broken lamp, they settled on a Gaijin show, featuring three girls with oversized heads that battled the forces of evil.
"Well, that was interesting," Bulma blinked a few times, then turned to Goku. "Didn't you think those gadgets were the coolest things ever?"
"And their fighting techniques were somethin', too," he nodded. "I've never seen such odd maneuvers before."
"Why so impressed, Goku?" Bulma raised an eyebrow in mock-dismay. "It's nothing you couldn't match."
"Nah, those girls are somethin' else," He shook his head. "Heck, I bet they're even a match for Vegeta!"
Suddenly, Bulma's eyes blinked. Vegeta. She's been so distracted with the Dragon Ball hunt that she had hardly thought of him at all until this moment. A small part of her wondered what he was doing right now.
(Probably cooped up in that Gravity Room.) Bulma scowled bitterly, as the other much larger part of her came into play, the part that couldn't care less. He could train his brains out for all she cared. She'd have fun without him.
With her fingers, she made a pincer grasp to retrieve the remote, only to discover that her pincer was covered in chocolate. Putting them to her mouth, she licked the coating off cleanly. "You know, that was actually pretty good," she told Goku, running her tongue across her lips. "What's in it?"
"Oh you know, just a little bit of this and that," he chuckled nervously, putting his hand behind his head. He had decided to refrain from informing her of the delicacy's contents, on the grounds that it might induce violent nausea and other unpleasant results. Plus, she'd probably hit him.
"Hmm," Bulma seemed to regard this for a moment, then turned to him. "Can you make more?" she asked.
Goku let loose with a wide grin. "You bet!" he said, happy that his "cooking" was appreciated. He then got up from his chair and headed back to the kitchenette to cook up another batch. He reached for the spoon, then, upon discovering it was too dirty for use, opened up the cabinet for a new one. But it was the wrong one, for this one was filled with only odds and ends. He slowly started to close the drawer.
Then he looked again. On top of the various utilities was a small envelope.And printed above the seal, in sharp blue letters, was the phrase "Dragon Ball."
"What's this?" Goku picked up the envelope, studying it. He squinted his vision, as if trying to break through the thin paper with only his eyes. He gave its contents a shake, rattling the articles against the insides. "Odd..."
Deciding to talk to Bulma about it, Goku walked back into the TV room. "Bulma!" he called out, causing the other to turn her head. "You know what this is?"
Bulma rose and walked over for a closer look. "I don't know," she said, taking the letter from his hand. Like Goku before her, she also analyzed the mystery packet, but instead of staying put, she moved over near the sofa, holding it over a small table. She fixed her thumb underneath the flap. "Only one way to find out," she decided, and broke the seal.
Out of the envelope's opening poured forth a variety of photographs. Most of them were four-by-eight's, although there were some larger printouts that folded out. Just about all of them looked crisp and fresh; however, judging by the dates printed on their backs, they were actually more than a decade old.
"I've never seen these before..." she mussed, sifting through the pile methodically. "I wonder what...oh, Kami!" she suddenly burst out.
"What?" Goku asked. "What is it?"
"Look!" She pointed out at the stack.
And there, on the top most photo, was Goku, Bulma, Yamcha, Oolong, and Puar, as young as when they first met. Chibi Goku stood proudly with Nyoibo poised into the ground, while Bulma was right behind him, grinning smartly. Yamcha was further behind, appearing to size up the group. Finally, the shape shifters stood to the side, rounding out the group.
"Oh man..." Goku's eyes widened at the sight of his old self staring up at him. The boy's eyes were wide eyed and trusting, yet contained the confidence and expertise of a warrior. It was like someone had taken his body and squeezed it into a pint sized version of itself, then photographed it for amusement.
"Wow..." Bulma breathed, turning up more of the pictures. Almost all of them captured a moment in there past, back when they were chasing after the Dragon Balls.
"Hey, here's that photo with you in Oolong's pants!" Bulma giggled, laughing at the silly getup. Goku looked a bit offended ,but smirked when he found his counter in another photo.
"Heh, look at this," He turned it up for her to see. It was Bulma, decked out in a Play-Boy bunny outfit, looking very displeased with the situation.
"GIVE me that!" she snapped, grabbing the photo. She then crumpled it into a ball and tossed it into a wastebasket over to her side, ignoring Goku's good-natured chuckling.
They continued like this for some time, pulling up the photos one by one for both to examine. Each had their own reactions to them: sometimes laughter, sometimes confusion, and sometimes a soft smile.
"Hmm, I wonder what this one is?" he pondered, taking one of the prints from underneath. Carefully he opened up the folds, then laid it flat on the table, smoothing out the creases as best he could.
And what he saw struck him breathless.
Depicted on the photograph were Goku and Bulma, seated on their respective vehicles, Kintu'on and Capsule bike. Bulma competently clutched the cycle's grip, winking attractively for the camera. Goku oblivious to the other, was making bunny ears, showing off his trademark grin.
Behind them shone the brilliant swirls of a western sunset, framing the couple in a bold aura. It illuminated their outlines, giving them the appearance of smiling silhouettes, their bright innocent eyes shining with the light of a great, never-ending adventure.
Goku had nothing to say. He just looked on, and on, stroking their faces with his eyes again and again. Were those two kids really them?
Then, the picture blurred as a drop of water distorted its image. Then another fell, drenching the photo further. Then another. Goku finally looked up, and found that Bulma's face was drench in tears. Her eyes were misted over, reflecting the photo's image with perfected clarity. Her mouth hung in an unreadable expression; whether it was happiness or despair couldn't be determined.
She turned to Goku, and offered him a bittersweet smile. "Those really were some good times, weren't they," she sniffed quietly.
"Yes, they were," Goku said seriously, his face set into a neutral mask.
"...do you wish that you could go back to those times?" she asked him, refusing to meet his eyes
"Isn't that what we're doing?" He raised his eyebrows.
"Yes, but... " She lowered her head once more. "This trip will end soon, and then we'll be back to our old lives. You training to be the best, and me at home, working on my inventions."
"It's like..." Bulma struggled for the correct words. " ...we were angels, just traveling the skies, careless and free. Only now our wings have been clipped, and we're earthbound for the rest of time. And sometimes... " She closed her eyes, squeezing the remaining tears from her eyes. "I want my wings back."
Goku was at a loss of words, hearing his oldest friend pour her heart out to him. Whenever someone made him a confidant, he was always left wondering what to do, how best to alleviate their suffering. He hated seeing others sad, but didn't always have the words to make everything better.
So he did the only thing he could. He put one arm around her shoulder, gripping it comfortably. "Let's not worry about the future," he told her, putting as much assurance into his voice as he could. "All we can do is fly as far as we can on the wings we have now."
Bulma stared deep within his honest eyes, windows into a soul that she'd known for almost half her life. A soul that spent its time hardening for combat, but that'd never really hurt anyone. She drew out stoicism, goofiness, confidence and compassion, all wrapped up into the man known as Son Goku.
And the way he said it, she believed.
Letting her body relax, Bulma leaned into his side. Melting against his frame, her breathing calmed as she absorbed the warmth of his body. Sighing into the air, she closed her eye slowly, blocking everything else out.
Her mind didn't really register her actions, nor did it recall the place or time. All she knew is that Goku was here with her, and that he'd make everything better.
All she knew is that Goku would make it all right.
*****
Goku sat on the couch, keeping perfectly still. A small time had passed since Bulma had fallen asleep, yet he was still here, at the same place he had been for two hours. Whether is was because he didn't want to wake her or some other reason, he didn't know. He didn't know anything.
He looked down. Bulma's face was serene, with eyes closed in sleep. Light breathing rustled a ;stray hair, just a little bit. Her body had softened into jelly, supported only by his own presence.
Rising out of the couch, Goku stretched out some muscles, stiff from sitting down so long. Once he was done, he turned back to Bulma, deciding that the best thing to do was to put her in bed.
Maneuvering his arms underneath her, Goku carefully lifted his slumbering friend upwards. Keeping an arm to support her back, he moved her to the bedroom, where a futon lay neat and welcoming. He slowly lowered her onto the soft padding, and gently removed his arms. He started to leave the room, then, on second thought, he returned and grabbed a blanket from the linen closet. After unfolding it, he laid it over Bulma, covering her to the neck. After he was done, he exited the room, shutting the door behind him.
He walked through the hallway, methodically navigating the path by memory. His mind's eye found the door outside, and he traveled through it without a second thought. He circled around the Capsule House to its rear, where he could see the stars shine from the clear night.
Leaning against its rounded hull, Goku took one deep breath. And then, for the first time, he began to put the past week in order.
Ever since he had started on this Dragon Ball journey, he had been flying on a cloud of candy. Everywhere around him was new experiences, new sights, new challenges to overcome. It had been so much fun that he'd even forgotten about training, too busy concentrating on the world around him to care as much as he normally did.
He looked at his hand, suddenly finding that the last photo he has looked at had somehow ended up in his hand. Bulma's tears still lay on top of it, obscuring the image and tarnishing the memory. This frustrated him, so he took his finger and gently wiped them away, restoring the image to its former glory. With this done, he held the image away, viewing it as a whole.
He smiled softly. Everything had come flooding back. All those memories that he never thought twice about had suddenly resurfaced, as vibrant and wonderful as the moment they were first created. All his old relationships he had forgotten about had been renewed, picked up from the bottom of the barrel, still as good as ever. Some better than ever.
Pulling the image closer, Goku looked at Bulma's visage, smiling up at him with flirtatious cheer. His smile grew melancholy as he traced her facial features with his index. It ran over her cheeks and hair, recalling everything he knew, everything he'd forgotten, and everything he learned about her.
Yes, he had missed all of his friends, more than he would ever have thought he would. But what was confusing him were these strange thoughts that had surfaced recently in his brain.
About Bulma.
At first, their relationship seemed to pick up from where they left off, with their disagreements and misunderstandings filling the time between adventures.
And yet.. there was something different between them. Maybe it was the years apart, but it seemed their relationship had metamorphosed a bit. Sure, she still had all of the personality faults she had before, but he found that he was minding them less and less, to the point where they were almost endearing to him. More than that, her quirks and attitude were bringing a smile to his face more than ever before.
He had never felt like this before. Ever.
And it scared him.
*****
Five seconds later, the clock hit midnight. At that moment, several things were happening.
A man, a pig, and a cat slumbered quietly, oblivious to the events taking place right under their noses.
A violet haired youth quietly pondered the future with uncertain feelings.
A woman and a boy traveled the open road, looking for answers.
A dark haired Saiyan followed the woman and boy, thirsting for vengeance and control.
A turquoise haired woman slept soundly, tucked in by an old friend.
And a young man stared at the stars, running one thought over and over in his mind:
(What's happening to me?)
Additional Disclaimer(s): "Romantic Ageru Yo" belongs to Takahashi Ushio, and to all other artists who contributed to this song. The Powerpuff Girls belong to Cartoon Network.
Until next time, Ja ne! ^_^