Author's Note: Rejoice, all ye faithful, it's another chapter up! I've abandoned rating how good my chapters are by how long they are, they'll all be pretty long from now on. I just can't help myself! So, to all you enjoying the story, get ready for more fun! To those of you not, welcome to your worst nightmare.
Last time on It's a Start
"Gold Fighter?" She turned her eyes from one Gohan to the other. "You know the Gold Fighter, Gohan?" Awe seemed to drip from her voice.
***
Saiyan Gohan chose this moment to speak up again. "I'll train her." Six pairs of eyes flew to his face.
***
"Sh—should we take it easy on you then? Maybe we should have taken Saiyan Gohan and left you with Vid-e-e-e-l," Trunks chortled, dragging out the last syllable of the girl's name, knowing it would raise Gohan's ire.
***
This apparently satisfied the ruler, who now stood before the small figure before him. "Very well, Master Babidi. You have the support of the South quadrant. Now please, tell me, what thorn is it that resides in the side of so powerful a wizard as you?"
The hood was removed from his head, and his eyes glowed with a flicker of evil intent. "Son Gohan."
***
And would he, given the choice, go back to the way things were?
Chapter Seven: Choices, Questions, Answers
The Supreme Kai gravely studied the stars before him, a grim expression painted on his features. This was wrong… so very wrong, and wrong things did not bode well for the future. Why hadn't he paid more attention to this quadrant? Why? This was definitely not good.
*****
Five…four…three…two…one…Videl gave an inward cheer as the final bell rang, ending the school day as well as the school week. Though she outwardly projected a blasé expression, inside she was as happy as Goten and Trunks at the prospect of training with Gohan. Never before, she recalled, had she been so excited about a martial arts lesson, and she'd been trained under the best! From around the globe, sensei actually fought for the privilege to tutor her, yet she'd never felt so involved in it as she did now. She thought she might actually be getting somewhere with Gohan…
The previous night, as she lay in bed mulling over the day's events, she'd tried forming a ki ball on her own. 'Focus,' she told herself, 'Feel the energy in your stomach, picture it in your hands…There!' And sure enough, as had happened earlier that afternoon, a small energy ball formed in her hands. Tiny, but most certainly real. It wasn't fake. No lights, no hidden trick beams, no rigging, it was all real. And her father had lied—no, he was just misinformed. Surely it was a mistake anyone could make, right? Of course right.
Naturally, as had happened before also, the effort of giving form to her life energy for the second time that day promptly drained Videl of what little strength she'd regained since that afternoon, and she slipped into a deep, dreamless sleep—the best kind for resting.
When the shrill ringing ended, most of the students were either out the door already or halfway down the stairs headed for the exit. She spotted her friend and tutor cramped among the huddled mass of bodies filing out of the room. He turned to look up at her and nodded to her.
Videl began her own descent towards the hallway, but before she got down the first few steps she felt herself yanked roughly to one side.
"Hey! What the—"
"Spill Videl!" came the overly excited whisper of her best friend. "I've already tried Gohan a dozen times, and the boy won't make a peep. What's going on with you two?"
Videl sighed loudly and assured, "Nothing."
Eresa playfully slapped the crime-fighter's shoulder. "Bull, and you know it."
"Listen Eresa," Videl hurried, "I gotta go, I'm—"
"Doing something with Gohan?"
She crossed her arms and turned away, feigning anger.
"Fine," Eresa conceded half-heartedly, "But you can't keep whatever's going on a secret for long!" The last part of her declaration crescendoed into something of a yell as her friend jogged down the steps, two at a time, in search of Gohan.
*****
"Oh ho!" Babidi chortled from his make-shift throne. "Most excellent, most excellent! I commend you, Kai!"
The pink god bowed low. "Quite unnecessary, sir. It was nothing."
The wizard nodded. "Very good, now with that brat out of the way, my little garden is free of weeds." He waxed thoughtful, rubbing his chin. "I may not even need to enlist the services of Dabura…"
"Th—the Demon King?!" the South Kai exclaimed, mouth hanging open.
"Yes…" Babidi continued calmly, paying no attention to his servant's outburst. "Since you've so kindly relieved our little speed bump of most of his powers, he hardly poses anything of a threat anymore." He shifted his eyes to the corner of the room. "The time of Majin Buu's resurrection is near." Abandoning his seat and walking over to the dark area he had been staring at, he laid a wrinkled yellow hand on a large glowing pod, muttering, "Soon…"
*****
"One quick stop by Capsule Corp," Gohan assured Videl, "and then we'll be on our way."
She nodded curtly as the skids of her jet copter gently alighted on the sprawling green lawn before the domed building. "I'll wait out here."
"Be right back!" he called over his shoulder, struggling to be heard over the roaring engine, and jogged inside. Once safely behind the closed door and out of Videl's sight, though, he broke into a frantic yell, running down the myriad halls shouting, "Bulma! Trunks! Vegeta!" He hesitated a moment, then called out, "Gohan!" 'That sounds so stupid,' he said to himself, picturing how foolish he must look—it felt so weird!
"Gohan?" came a familiar voice, and little Trunks poked his purple head out of a side room as the elder boy screeched to a stop. "What's up? You done with Dad already?" He added slyly. "Or did you break the GR again?" He added a snicker.
The human's face twisted in confusion as he struggled to catch his breath. "Huh?" Then he realized, "Oh—this is the human Gohan!"
"Oh!" Trunks apologized, "Sorry—looking for your better half?" He pointed down a few doors. "Try the science lab. Mom's in there, she might know where he is."
Gohan nodded his thanks, and Trunks slipped back into his room. Just as the child had said, the former Saiyan found Bulma stooped over her computer, scrolling through screens of data.
"No…" she mumbled to herself, scratching her chin as she scanned the list before her.
"Working hard?" he called out from his post at the doorjamb; Bulma gave a quick jump of surprise and looked his way, then narrowed her eyes in annoyance.
"What do you want?" she practically growled. "I told you I'm working as quickly as possible. The least you can do is give me some privacy."
"Whoa!" Gohan quickly got on the defensive, going so far as to raise his hands in protest. "It's not like that! I'm not the Saiyan Gohan!" Was the other him that bad?
The scientist's face quickly lost its angry mien, and she rubbed her temples. "Geez, sorry kid. That double of yours is getting on my last nerve."
"Well," he revealed, "I might be able to take him off of your hands for a while; that is, if you can point me in his direction."
She rolled her eyes. "Where else would he be but the Gravity Room? He and Vegeta found out I upped the maximum gravity level in there, then took off faster than Goten and Trunks did with you yesterday."
*****
"AAUGH!" came a primal cry of mingled pain and fury.
"Not much fun, is it brat?" Vegeta crowed. "I've always wondered just how you managed to regrow these things." He gave a definitive twist to the younger Saiyan's tail as he swung the boy around a few more times before finally sending him flying across the training facility to crash headfirst into the concrete wall. "Yet I don't really understand why you don't get it removed again."
Gohan coughed, flecks of blood spattering the debris-littered floor before him, and his body heaved for a few moments before he regained enough strength to push himself upright. Vegeta proceeded to encircle him, eyeing the boy hungrily. "Besides, since that human-loving Guardian brought back the moon, there's a chance you might cause some damage."
The double scoffed, "What do you care?"
The prince stopped and looked almost thoughtful for a moment, then shrugged. "Not much actually, but enough to take care of you if anything should happen." He punched a beige panel on the wall nearest the door, and the humming which had filled the room died off as the gravity inside returned to normal. He threw the door open, where he was immediately met by yet another Gohan.
"Is—"
"There," Vegeta answered dully, pointing to the far wall and pushing past the human to the locker room. Gohan slipped over to his injured half, towering over the fallen warrior.
"I know you don't want to see me—"
"Perceptive, aren't you?" he interrupted icily.
"I need you to train with Videl for me again."
The Saiyan's eyes widened slightly. "Not avoiding her, are you? Don't you think she might get a little suspicious if you bow out on her again?"
The human smirked back. "Not if you're not transformed. Besides, don't pretend you don't want to spend time with her. You are me after all."
Gohan's eyes narrowed into slits. "Why should I?" he mused. "Where are you off to?"
"Up to the lookout, to talk to Piccolo."
"So take the girl."
He glanced at the alien sideways. "Unless you want her to learn everything, I can't. I'm going up to talk to him about our…situation."
Saiyan Gohan summoned up the rest of his strength to push himself onto his feet, then turned and began walking out the door, tossing back nonchalantly. "So tell her."
"Tell her?" he repeated, shocked at the alien's brazenness. "Everything?"
"Doesn't matter to me, I'm not the human." He began the trek to the showers to clean.
"But—wait!" Gohan shot into the hall after himself. "I can't just…tell her. Surely you can't want me to tell her." He grabbed Gohan's arm, and the alien turned to meet his double's gaze, feeling as if he was staring into a mirror. "You don't want me to. You don't want her to know the truth any more than I do; you fear the consequences just as much as me."
The Saiyan scoffed, and the human released him, continuing with a challenge. "Fine. Do whatever you want. If you can tell her, if you have the guts to tell the truth, do it. I'm gone." He stepped away and darted down the hall to the back entrance, bound for Kami's Lookout.
*****
"Quick my foot," Videl growled under her breath. It had been over ten minutes since Gohan had entered the building, and she was quickly becoming irked. "What is he doing?"
Just as she was contemplating going in after the boy, he popped out and dashed back to the copter, flinging open the door as he jumped in beside her. "Took you long enough."
"Let's go," he urged, and she lifted the vehicle into the air.
"Where to?"
He smiled knowingly. "My house. There's a meadow a few miles behind it, nice and secluded: prefect for learning how to fly."
"Oh?"
He nodded. "It's where I learned."
"Fine by me then." The two swiftly ascended into the puffy whiteness above the ground and, upon reaching the appropriate height, Videl fired the engines which whined under the strain and they were off.
As the earth passed in a blur below them, she initiated a conversation. "So…how close are you two?"
"Huh? Who?"
"You and the Gold Fighter."
Great. He'd get that stupid human half of his for sticking him in an awkward situation like this. "Me and him? Uh… pretty close, not so much lately."
"Known each other for a while?"
He allowed a hesitant nod. "Yeah…"
"Then…tell me about him."
Crap. How did he know she was going to ask that? Now he had to tell, to tell and yet not reveal too much. As much as he hated to admit it, that other him was right: he didn't want to tell her everything. Even harder to admit, though, was the reason.
He understood why the human Gohan was attracted to Videl: it was nature. Then, why was he—now the most powerful Saiyan in the universe—having the same feelings? Love was a weakness, not to be desired by a dutiful warrior. Thinking back to the previous day, he remembered breaking down in front of her—weak!
But to her, he was merely Gohan, normal human Gohan. Wait…no, to her he was the Gold Fighter… He spoke.
"The Gold Fighter is… not human. He is from earth, but not human."
A pause. "Is he…android?" She remembered those attacks all those years earlier; people using blasts, possibly energy blasts. She'd seen some of the tapes…was it possible?
"No, not android." Videl sighed inwardly with relief, still confused though.
"He is Saiyan." The words were coming with more difficulty, but he couldn't stop now. "A warrior race from a planet which no longer exists. He was born on Earth. He grew up on Earth. He is an earthling, just not human."
Sure, she had had her suspicions, but not this, nowhere near this. "Are..." she chose her words carefully and asked with typical human naivety, "Are Saiyans good or…bad?"
Gohan smirked but kept his eyes focused straight ahead, not daring to look his interrogator in the face for fear he'd lose his nerve. "Some are 'good,' others 'bad.'"
She rephrased her question. "Is the Gold Fighter good, or bad?"
The fighter refrained from answering her directly. "I…understand that your father maintains sole possession of the only tape recording of the Cell Games from seven years ago."
Videl, who had throughout the entire conversation thus far kept her eyes focused on the sky in front of her, unconsciously released control of the copter, sending the two plummeting to earth. After a brief moment of shock she caught herself and righted the vehicle, setting it back on its correct path. Gohan was unfazed by the event.
"H-How did you know that?! It's never been made public!"
He smiled secretively. "Little bird told me."
She decided not to pursue—he'd surprised her too much already. Let him keep his little secrets; she was after the big ones. "What does that have to do with my question?"
Once again, he successfully parried. "Have you ever watched it? Has he ever let you?"
She pondered the question, zoning out. Now that she thought about it, she'd never actually watched the whole tape, just all the important parts with her father and Cell; it was a long tape, who would want to see the whole thing? She shook her head in response to his question.
"Go home tonight, watch it," he stated finally. "Then tomorrow, ask me your question again." She eyed him strangely, and for the first time during their ride, he turned to look at her. "I expect you'll have a few new ones."
And that, apparently, was the end of the conversation, as the next few minutes were allowed to pass in silence, neither one continuing to speak, until the Saiyan pointed out a spot far below and instructed Videl to land there. She allowed the copter to settle down in the middle of a meadow.
"Ready?" he asked as she hopped nimbly from the pilot's seat onto the soft grass, and she gasped. It was so picturesque that she would have sworn all the scenery was painted on had she not been standing there in person. The "meadow" seemed more of a huge field, stretching for miles in all directions, interrupted here and there by a gentle sloping hill, jutting moss-covered rock, or pond.
"Beautiful…" she murmured, then snapped back to attention when she remembered the company. "Yeah, ready."
He gestured to a patch of inviting grass behind them. "Have a seat." She did so, and he continued, following suit. "I guess we'll continue where you left off yesterday with the Gold Fighter."
*****
"Sensed you coming," the veteran fighter announced as he silently traversed the lookout, headed towards his former pupil in a stately manner. He halted when he got within a few feet. "Among sensing…other things."
Gohan frowned. "Then, you know." Piccolo nodded grimly. "Well, no sense putting it off then, what's your take on the situation? It's—everyday we're apart…it feels like we'll never rejoin. But that's not what really worries me." He tilted his gaze to the tiled floor below him.
"What does worry you?"
"I… don't think I want to. Rejoin that is." The last part dropped to a whisper, as if ashamed.
Piccolo's eyes grew wide with anxiety. "What?"
Gohan attempted a hasty explanation. "He's…not me. I can't accept that anything like that was ever a part of me." He began to pace. "He's selfish, cocky, arrogant, rude—"
"Saiyan."
"He's Saiyan, like Vegeta's a Saiyan. I'd always hoped I'd be more like… my dad." He halted in mid-stride as Piccolo advanced on him, laying a hand gently on the human's shoulder.
"Gohan, your father is special, unique, one of a kind. But understand, he wasn't always that way. You can't deny your nature any more than Goku could."
The boy wavered, doubt still hanging like a phantom over his brow. "Still…"
"Relax, kid," the Namek assured Gohan. 'He'll do what's need when it's needed,' he assured himself. 'He always has.'
Across the lookout, a small green man in white robes that grazed the ground waddled out a door, and, upon seeing Gohan, broke into a grin and jogged as best he could over to the human. "Gohan!"
The boy was jerked from his thoughts at the sound of his name and directed his attentions to its source. His eyes brightened a bit at seeing his old friend, and he allowed a small grin to grace his face. "Dende! It's great to see you!" The two wrapped each other in a brotherly hug, but soon the smaller Namek pulled back, sensing something wrong.
"Gohan…what…?" He looked over to Piccolo, whose eyes were narrowed in anger, finding the floor quite interesting at the moment. "Piccolo…he doesn't…"
"I know," the elder Namek stated gruffly. "We think it happened yesterday morning."
Dende nodded, a bit slowly and stiffly, then turned his attentions back to Gohan. "If you're here… part of you…then where…?"
The human joined in, "Staying at Capsule Corp., with Bulma and Vegeta."
Piccolo smiled grimly in spite of the gravity of the situation. "I'll bet Vegeta's loving this, then. Finally has a 'worthy opponent.'"
"Well," Dende stepped back, "shall we put our heads together and see what we can do about this situation?"
*****
Videl sat hunched over kneeling in her pajamas, nearly choking on the stale ancient air which pervaded the attic; her hands were covered in a fine dust which clung to practically everything in the room. She paused her search for a brief moment, ears straining to detect footsteps or talking in the house below.
Nothing.
But, of course, she shouldn't have expected otherwise. Her father, once out, slept like the dead, and was no easier to awaken save of his own free will. Few of the servants actually stayed in the mansion itself, opting to commute from the suburbs or other areas of town. These factors worked together to make Videl's midnight mission a success.
She leaned back onto her feet, easing her body into a standing position, then began to slowly creep over to a tall file cabinet, opening it ever so carefully. Rusty from years of non-use, the appliance squeaked loudly if she pulled too quickly, so she was forced to do the deed painfully slowly.
Thumbing through the various files, she reached a particularly thick one labeled, in a scrawling hand, "TOP SECRET—HERCULE'S EYES ONLY."
"My dad, the master of subtlety," Videl whispered sarcastically, and pulled a black video tape from the folder.
Once safely back inside her own room, she deftly shut and locked the door, ensuring once more that the entire household was still asleep.
"Alright, Son Gohan, what exactly did you want me to see?" Within moments, the black screen before her came to life, revealing a desolate rocky field. The battlefield. Gone was the cement stadium in which the Cell Games had taken place—apparently this segment of video had started right after her father's first fight with the monster.
The screen was cocked at an odd angle—Videl suspected it had been tipped over when the reporters had abandoned it—but after a moment, the unmistakable image of a tall, golden-haired man walked into view of the camera. The angle was corrected (so there were still some reporters there!) and zoomed into the man's face.
At first glance, she was certain it was the Gold Fighter; however, after a moment's scrutiny she discarded this view. The man before her was obviously older, an experienced fighter; the real Gold Fighter had to be about her own age.
The image panned out, revealing a fairly large group of people behind the man with the golden hair, then zoomed back in on each one in turn.
Besides the main fighter, there was one other whose locks seemed to radiate that peculiar golden hue the Gold Fighter possessed. He was a small boy, probably not much older than she had been at the time, and he wore baggy clothes with a long white cape draped over his thin shoulders that looked altogether too large for his slender frame. On his face, though, was etched the same expression of worry and resolve as the others'. The camera moved on to another face—a lavender haired boy who looked eerily familiar—but her attentions remained back on the previous contender.
The screen turned snowy halfway through the line-up—here was where all footage ended and personal testimonies began. Why had Gohan wanted her to watch the tape? All of the other fighters were older men (well, there was one short guy she was pretty sure was an older man, but not positive) and here, out in the middle of a battlefield during the most significant world event of the century, was a kid her age…
Wait—she stopped the tape—she'd done the math right, he would be her age now. That had to be why he'd wanted her to watch the tape; but why had he told her the Gold Fighter's heritage? Why had he wanted her to know? Whatever his motives, Gohan would certainly have a few more questions from her.
Switching off the TV, she suddenly felt a wave of exhaustion wash over her entire being, unstoppable as a true ocean wave. Apparently Gohan, in reparation for missing the previous day's lesson, had felt the need to really put her though her paces, having her form not one, but two ki balls, one in each hand, at the same time! After that "warm-up," they'd entertained a game of tag, or rather chase, since Videl was doing all the work trying to catch the boy—he was worse than the Gold Fighter! Thankfully this had been the last exercise of the day as she'd had practically no energy left and he'd had to fly her home himself.
Not that she'd minded.
Uh…that is, she corrected herself, in her state of exhaustion how could she have objected to the boy's gesture?
She pulled the covers up around her body and gently closed her eyes, snuggling deep under the comforter and drawing in deep, even breaths. Tomorrow was Saturday—no school and two whole free days. Would she be training? Most likely. With the Gold Fighter?
…
The smile on her face faded as she took on an expression of reflection, eyes still closed. Yes, she was nearly positive now that the boy in the video was a younger version of the Gold Fighter, though she never would have thought to look there for it. Sure, now that Gohan reminded her, she remembered a bit of information in the news all those years ago, a small clip about the strange group of crazies who thought they could take on Cell all by themselves—with a light show! But then, hardly anything about them had been documented.
No names, the video the only footage of their exploits. They merely showed up, fought, were presumably beaten…disappeared.
That's it, tomorrow she'd… but the thought was lost as dreams crept into Videl's sleep deprived mind and she lost consciousness.
*****
"No," Gohan stated flatly, hardly looking up from his plate of pancakes.
"Aww! B-but Gohan!" his younger brother lamented loudly, "I wanna play with Trunks! C'mon, it's Saturday! You and the other Gohan get to play with Vid—"
"Shh!" Gohan swiftly clapped a palm over the demi-Saiyan's babbling mouth, casting a furtive glance into the kitchen, where his mother was washing dishes. "You want Mom to hear?" he hissed. His mother hadn't heard. "Fine…" he allowed, "I have to go chat with Bulma anyway. But—" he added an afterthought, "after I finish breakfast."
Goten's eyes lit up with joy, and his brother thought for a moment—only a moment—he saw a tiny yellow flame of energy lick at the tip of one of the child's locks. The boy scampered away merrily, leaving Gohan to his meal.
"So," came his mother's voice as she waltzed into the dining area a few moments later with a dishtowel in her grip, drying her hands. "How're the lessons coming? I haven't seen any drop in your grades."
Gohan spooned a helping of oatmeal into his mouth after he'd finished off the pancakes. "Pretty well so far. We'll be ready for an attempt at flight soon." He downed his juice in one swift gulp, and his mother took the cup from her son, smiling.
"I'm glad you're enjoying this."
The boy looked confused for a moment, "Well of course I'm en—IT'S NOT LIKE THAT!"
Chichi just giggled and turned back into the kitchen. "Taking Goten to Capsule Corp?" she asked, changing the subject for her son.
"Yeah," he glanced into the living room. "He's getting ready."
She nodded, her back to him, and placed the cup in the soapy sink. "Let Bulma know that if she ever wants to get rid of Trunks for a day, I've always got a son who'd love to have him over."
At this propitious moment, an orange and blue tornado arrived at Gohan's feet.
"Speak of the devil," Chichi commented.
Goten began bouncing up and down, tugging on his brother's pants leg. "Is it time? Are you done yet? Can we go now?"
The human sighed. "After you." 'He's next. I'm definitely going to teach him to fly next.'
*****
"You told her what?!"
"Hey, you said it was up to me! If you hadn't put me in that position—"
"I hardly expected you to tell her that! You could have told her anything, told her—"
"I told her the truth! About me, not you, so—"
"You are me!"
"NO I'M NOT!" The room took on a dead silence, and the two warriors glared daggers at each other, both expressions dripping with disgust. Not ten minutes had passed since the human had arrived, and already they were at each other's throats.
Though Gohan was not one to be easily angered, when he was, it was an awesome sight. Much like a hurricane or volcano is an awesome sight—one best viewed from afar.
Breathing heavily, human Gohan began to rub his temples, eyes squeezed shut in concentration. "You told her, that's…your responsibility…I accept that. I—I've got to go meet with Videl." He began to walk away, sights set on the front door. "It's you who has to live with her reactions to you now. But—" He paused, one hand on the doorjamb, and turned his head to peer out of the corner of one eye. "You tell her nothing about me. We are separate, as you say. To her, you are the alien Gold Fighter, not Gohan. Not me. Keep it that way."
The Saiyan didn't miss the implied, "Or else." As his other half abandoned him, he yelled out, "It was my choice!" More to assure himself, though. Now he was alone.
--End Chapter 7--
Post-Chapter Notes: Well? Is it getting better? Lemme know! Constructive criticism is welcome, and I expect I'll get some, as it has been quite some time since I saw the Cell Games. Talk about artistic license, forgive me! As it is, I've blended about three other stories into this one, and I almost did the same with a fourth, but then decided better. That fourth one is now up, and if you want to check it out, it's Dark Shift. Like Gohan/Videl pairings? Of course you do! Like angst? Well, if you don't then you should! Check it out, and with this chapter up, I'll soon be updating that one. For now, review!--sage