Disclaimer—Seeing as I'm not a male, and I'm not Japanese, it's highly doubtful that I own DB/Z/GT. I am, however, seriously considering changing my name to Akira Toriyama….
A/N—I've seriously gotten caught up in this story again! Anyone waiting for the next chapter to Getting a Clue, and the epilogue to Bring Your Father to School Day, sorry for the delay, they should be out soon! It's all this story's fault! It's forcing me to write it!
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The years passed in relative peace, and Gohan found that he was happy, in spite of himself. Trunks and Goten grew from little balls of mischief into, well, bigger balls of mischief. When Goten turned Super Saiyan for the first time at six years old, the same age as Gohan had, with none of the 'prompting' that he had received, Gohan couldn't have been prouder.
Despite everything, despite the nightmares, despite the flashbacks, despite the gnawing guilt that he still carried, Gohan found himself content. Even school hadn't gone according to his plans—Gohan had friends.
Oh, sure, they weren't the greatest friends. In fact, he didn't even know how they'd come to be his friends in the first place. Erasa had been half in love with him, and Sharpener out of some twisted sense of jealousy had hung out with him too.
As days turned to months, Erasa had reconciled her crush, and started dating Sharpener, and by that time, the blonde boy had become so used to hanging out and bugging Gohan, that he'd simply continued to do so out of habit.
It was also by default that he'd gotten his third, and final friend, Videl. Claiming friendship from childhood, Erasa was the only girl in the school that Videl could stand. This made the despised Sharpener and the aloof Gohan her friends by default, as Erasa insisted on hanging out with them. Gohan found it slightly ironic that the man Videl worked so hard to unmask every day sat right beside her in English class.
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Videl gazed curiously at Gohan who was spacing out yet again. The boy definitely had secrets. Glancing at the front of the class, Videl stifled a giggle to see that old Mr. Mizuki was still asleep at his desk, though lunch break was long over.
Mr. Mizuki was a favorite of everyone's—one of the few teachers who inspired passion in his students—who made class an enjoyable experience. Although he was years over the set retirement age, he returned every semester, insisting that teaching was his greatest joy, and retirement was for old fogies, which he was definitely, not! Sometimes his lunchtime naps tended to run over into class time, but no one really minded; he always awoke bright-eyed and ready to transport his students once again into the fascinating world of literature.
Videl looked once more at Gohan after the quick glance ascertained that Mr. Mazuki was still out like a light. He really did intrigue her. There was something so—pained in him. Something that made her want to drop her hostile guard and sooth that hurt.
Videl shook her head in disgruntlement. What was it about him that made her feel such things? Videl had been through her fair share of tragedies—some would even say MORE than her fair share. Despite the money, the rich house, the fame—or perhaps because of them, Videl could never escape the nagging pain in her heart. Perhaps it was loneliness—she didn't know any other name for it, but it had started when her mother had died in a car accident when she was five—that was the first tear in her fabric. The second came shortly after, when her father, to escape the pain of his wife's death, had sought comfort in the arms of other women. After his defeat of Cell, it had grown even worse—the women had multiplied, and those claiming 'friendship' to the Satan's had steadily increased in number—but not one of them liked her for a person. Not one of them would have looked twice at her had she not been Hercule Satan's daughter. And so Videl was lonely—she'd gotten used to it—well, maybe not used to it, but she had managed to become resigned to it, submerging herself in training, school, and police work—making a name of her own, determined to escape her father's shadow. And then she had met HIM. Son Gohan.
At first she had flinched to meet him, expecting him to fawn and fall over her feet like they all did—but he hadn't. That alone had intrigued her. And then there was that look in his eyes that one time—for a brief moment, he had let his guard down. Perhaps it had just been the light—an effect of the noonday sun that made his soul appear to be a ragged, tattered thing, barely held together by strands spider of silk. His eyes had reflected such pain in that bare instant, only to have it whisked away and replaced with cheerful nonchalance in the next. What could cause that depth of hurt in a human being? What horrific tragedy could leave someone so—shredded? She had seen it in him, whether he willed it or no.
Perhaps kindred in pain, their eyes had sought each other out, and Videl knew—despite his façade, that Son Gohan was a person of many secrets. Secrets so dark, so INTENSE, that Videl wasn't sure she wanted to delve that deep—did she really want to know what could cause those dark orbs to hold such haunting depths?
Videl jerked involuntarily as Gohan's eyes met hers, and turned quickly away, pretending to check the time on the large clock over his right shoulder. She blinked through her embarrassment as she noticed the time that the black hands spelled out. 12:20—class should have started twenty minutes ago!
Gohan, who watched Videl flush with no little confusion, followed her gaze to the clock, then to the desk where Mr. Mizuki still sat, head in his arms. Immediately Gohan knew. He'd seen the look enough times before—he was just surprised that he hadn't noticed the moment he'd entered the classroom.
Standing, Gohan walked calmly down the steps, and towards the still form of the teacher, ignoring the naughty titters of his classmates who thought he intended on waking him.
Bending down, Gohan touched his fingers to the old man's neck, feeling the clamminess of his already cooling skin. There was no pulse.
Looking up into the suddenly silent classroom, Gohan announced calmly, "He's dead. Someone should probably go and get the principal."
Videl stared in shock at the collected boy before her, who so calmly announced death, as if the two were old acquaintances. Through the horror filled silence, a blue-haired girl in the front row let out an anguished sob, which sent the class into a flurry of activity as the stillness was broken.
Several students ran gasping and choking from the class in search of a bathroom, while others burst into tears. From her view from the top of the room, Videl saw a faint look of puzzlement cross Gohan's features as he took in the extreme reaction of his fellow classmates. Angrily she shouted down to the seemingly heartless boy before her, "They're upset, Gohan! What are you, a monster?! Mr. Mazuki was the nicest guy in the world, and now he's dead, and you don't even care!" Videl spun quickly around, her back to him, so he couldn't see the tears that were growing in her eyes. *Mr. Mazuki….*
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"What are you, a monster?!" The words echoed in Gohan's mind as he gazed dumbstruck at Videl's back. Of course he was sorry to see the old man go, he'd been a good teacher, one he could actually identify with. His class was one of the few he could actually remain awake through!
Gohan looked around at the rest of his classmates, who seemed stuck somewhere between sickness and tears. It was only slowly that the realization came to Gohan, that it was possible that these sheltered children had never seen death before—had never shaken his hand, or smacked away the bony fingers as he reached for some prize. All of the sudden, Gohan felt old. His burdens seemed to stack higher than his years would allow, bowing his back and hunching him over.
"What are you, a monster?" Those words hurt him more than he'd even let on. Perhaps if Videl had known that that was exactly what he'd thought himself to be for so many years, and even now, to an extent, she wouldn't have said it. But she didn't know. Gohan felt confusion and anger battle with guilt—he wanted to shout up to her that Mr. Mazuki had lived a good life—that he'd loved every minute of every day, and had died doing what he loved best. He wanted to tell her that death wasn't so bad—in fact, many times, living could be worse—but he didn't. Her accusations rang too true. He had reconciled himself to his past—he wasn't a monster, but, from the reactions of his classmates, he knew he wasn't like them, either. Suddenly, Gohan yearned for that innocence that had been ripped away in so many ways at the tender age of four. He yearned for a time when death was the greatest horror, and even old age taking a life was a cause for tears. He had lost too much. He had no more tears left to shed, not a shred of his soul left undefiled. With one glance back at Videl, Gohan silently left the room, and went to summon the principal.
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Gohan was shocked at the reaction to Mr. Mazuki's death. He had thought that, perhaps, the adults would be calmer and more reasonable in dealing with the old man's death, but apparently he was universally beloved.
When he had informed the principal, the older woman had broken down in tears at the news, and had shakily dialed the paramedics from her office phone. School had been cancelled for the rest of the day after the body had been taken away, and had remained out the next, in Mr. Mazuki's honor and due to the fact that all of his students had been expressly invited to attend the funeral in the old man's Will.
Standing in a dark suit, along with his fellow classmates, Gohan allowed his mind to drift as he gazed at the clouds that bunched over the somber crowd. His thoughts were jerked back to the proceedings as Mr. Mazuki's son took the podium and spoke of his father with such love and longing, that Gohan was involuntarily reminded of his own father. And how much he missed him. Gohan listened intently as the man ran down, and came to the end of his speech.
The younger Mr. Mazuki smiled gently at the gathered crowd and finished with the lines of his father's favorite poem, the poem that he had requested be read at his funeral.
"This is the way the world ends, this is the way the world ends, this is the way the world ends, not with a bang, but a whimper."—T.S. Elliot (The Hollow Men)
Not with a bang, but a whimper. Not with a bang, a whimper. Not with a bang—not with a bang! He'd ended too many worlds with a bang. Far too many deprived of the chance to live fully and love the world as this old man had. Far too many lives cut short, destinies unfulfilled…
Gohan felt the hot, salty tears drip carelessly down his cheeks, but he refused to wipe them away. With a fleeting glance toward the heavens, Gohan sent a small prayer with Mr. Mazuki, asking that he say hello to his father for him when he got there.
A soft pitter-patter prompted the raising of umbrellas and a scurry of movement as the mourners sought shelter from the encroaching storm. Silent and alone, Gohan stood at the edge of the grave, fresh churned earth going muddy at his feet. A small tendril of hair soaked heavily into his eye. Gohan was alone.
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A short distance away, Videl stood underneath a nearby tree, waiting for the storm to abate. Although the tree provided shelter, her hair was growing damp, as small droplets escaped through the overhead canopy and sprinkled her lightly.
Curiously, she watched the silent boy at the graveside as he was soaked and buffeted by the pounding storm. He didn't even seem to feel it. Just before the rain had begun, Videl had noticed two suspiciously symmetrical streaks that ran down Gohan's cheeks. When all of the others had retreated, he had just stood there, vacant and subdued. Videl felt a small stir of guilt—she knew that her earlier reaction had been wrong. Gohan did care—he cared deeply.
Videl leaned back against the tree trunk, glad for the slight shelter that the overhead limbs provided. More than slightly damp, and not getting any dryer, she silently studied the soaking boy who stood lost in thought at the edge of the muddy grave. Alone with their thoughts, they awaited the end of the storm, together.
***Whew! ::wipes brow:: It's always so hard to develop a new character! I think I kept Videl in character here, but believe me, this chapter wasn't easy! Please read and review—tell me what you think!***