Author's Notes: Woohoo, you'll be pleased to learn I'm typing up this chapter from the comfort of my very own laptop. Know what that means? More chapters, less waiting! Aah....the power...On with the chapter!
Last time in It's A Start:
Turning away, the alien shook his head. "You humans…emotions are so simple for you."
*****
The Gohans took one last chance to look at each other, to ponder the life he might have led, separated from his other half. A life without internal conflict. Free and unrestrained…
The Saiyan turned his gaze now to the god. "We have decided… to rejoin."
*****
After undergoing extensive poking and prodding of his new--or was that old?--body, as well as enduring the Kai's spell, Gohan vehemently assured all, "Trust me, I'm me again!"
*****
"I have to leave, to fight this…thing."
Then he, Gohan, never one to unduly alarm anyone he cared for, spoke the words Videl had hoped she'd never have to hear.
"And…I might not come back."
*****
And through all the pain, through the sadness, she remembered why. One thought surfaced, above all others: "I…love him…"
Chapter Eleven: Why So Sad?
Some time during the long night, Videl had settled onto the ground and curled up in a fetal position, for it was her back's protest at being bent in such a position for so long which woke her. Hardly rested, she forced herself awake to face the coming day.
Her face hurt, her eyes were still red and sore from crying, and a bolt of pain shot up her back, coming to a stop in her head in the form of a throbbing headache. She clenched and unclenched her hands, which had cramped from clasping something in her palm the whole night. 'Strange,' she thought, staring down at the scrap of paper she was holding—though she held it with such ferocity, knuckles white, she didn't even remember picking it up, let alone what was written on it. Warily, she opened the crumpled note.
Bulma—Dragonballs
Lookout
Instantly she recognized the scrawling hand as Gohan's. He'd written the note: written it and placed it in her hands as she slept. Looking up from the writing, her eyes grew wide—he'd come back. And she'd missed him. Though, she admitted to herself, it was probably just as well she'd been asleep when he returned (no doubt he planned it that way and had waited for her to fall asleep). She knew had she been conscious when he'd come back, she wouldn't have let him leave again.
Turning back to the task at hand, she contemplated the note. Bulma—Dragonballs. Dragonballs? What was a "Dragonball"? Bulma–maybe she'd know. Was that why he'd included her name? But then, what was this "Lookout"? A warning?
She hurriedly pushed herself into a standing position, drying her eyes of the fresh tears that had begun to accumulate in them, and folded the paper, setting it on her dresser as she changed. She deftly removed the sweat soaked training attire from the previous day's session and tossed them into the hamper, slipping into more presentable clothes. Allowing her black locks to hang loose for only a moment, she snapped her hair back into a tight ponytail, opting for this quicker style over her usual double-pigtails.
Monday—school, she realized. Would she go? Hardly. Her current task was so much more important. And...she didn't know if she could handle trudging up the stairs of that building alone, settling into her seat without him two seats over. Eresa would wonder where he was–Videl would lie, saying that she didn't know and didn't really care. Sharpner would make some snide remark about how he hadn't even noticed that the geek wasn't in his usual seat. That was how it would go, because that's how her life had been: her normal life. Since Gohan had started revealing all these secrets to her, life had been anything but normal.
Grabbing the crumpled note and stuffing it into a pocket, she dashed out of her room and up to the roof, narrowly missing one of the maids sent up the stairs to check on her. There was no time to waste with her father's questioning. No time–Gohan could already be gone.
She fired the engines and threw the plane into gear, swiftly scaling the heights into the fluffy whiteness of the upper altitudes. The tachometer climbed along with the plane, approaching speeds well above the legal limit for private aircraft, and the trip to Capsule Corp passed in what seemed to be an instant.
She didn't care where she landed–so long as it was some hard level surface, and in a flash the yellow machine sat in the domed building's front yard, with Videl slipping up to the front door and assaulting it with knocking. Inside, movements could be heard, quickening at the insistent pounding.
"I'm coming, I'm coming!" came an annoyed female voice. The door swung open. "You don't have to pou–Videl?"
"Where is he?" she gasped out, catching her breath from the rush.
Bulma appeared, for good reason, a bit confused. "He? Who—the Gold Fighter?"
Videl shook her head. "Gold Fighter, Saiyaman, Gohan, whatever he's called now—where is he?" At the woman's sideways glance, she quickly explicated, "He told me. Gohan told me–everything."
"...Everything?" She beckoned the crime fighter inside and sat down on one of the couches.
A nod. "About...Saiyans–his heritage, and how... there were two Gohans."
Bulma turned away from her, thinking, then realized, "Wait—'were'?"
"I don't–they got back together...he said. Last night. But, he left, 'cause he said he had to fight or something. He–he gave me this." She produced the paper she'd held onto so tightly through the night.
"Three words..." the scientist observed, her face having lost its confusion as she gravely perused the writing. "Bulma, Dragonballs...Lookout..."
Videl studied her face, searching for answers. Did she understand? "So...do you know where he is?"
She quickly looked up from the paper. "Y—you don't know?"
"No—that's why I came: To ask you, about this note and where Gohan was."
"He—they both left with you the other day, with you. I haven't seen either one since."
It clicked—Chichi. If anyone, she would know where her son was. Videl pushed herself up and started towards the door.
"Wait! Videl!" Bulma called out, and she turned. "Where are you going?"
"To his house—his mom might know where he is." 'I hope,' she silently prayed.
A moment's pause, and then, "Is Gohan... in trouble or something?" She might need to send Vegeta up to the Lookout to get the full story. Videl was obviously not filled in on everything that was going on.
There was apparent doubt in the girl's eyes, and she hesitated, unsure of how to phrase her answer. "He said... that he had to go fight, and that..."
Bulma laid a comforting hand on her shoulder, worried. "That... what, Videl?" She had to push; if she didn't find out what was going on, there might be trouble ahead.
"That... he might not come back..." Her voice began to crack, even though she'd sworn she wouldn't reveal any of the previous night's emotional breakdown. It was enough to think that he might have—and probably had—seen her.
Not come back? Bulma began to go over this statement, running it through her mind. Fight? What fight? What kind of new enemy could have surfaced over the past few days that she'd hadn't heard of? Even Vegeta hadn't sensed anything–but Gohan had apparently been summoned (to the Lookout?) to fight.
But he might not come back? Gohan doubted his own ability to fight? This might be more serious than Videl knew. Bulma handed back the paper, quietly urging, "Take this, and show it to Gohan's mother."
"But—what does it mean?"
She shook her head, rising from her seat. "I don't know if I should answer that. Tell Chichi I'm going to get help. She'll know what I mean."
"I—bu—" But the blue-haired scientist was already gone, leaving her protesting. Videl quickly recovered her senses, though, and dashed back out onto the front lawn, blasting into the sky, headed for the Son home nestled in the foothills of the distant mountains.
With Videl safely out of the way, Bulma pulled a chair up to the front closet, using it to reach the highest shelf. After a moment's rummaging around, she withdrew her hand from the dark corner, and was now clutching what appeared to be an overgrown compass.
'Poor kid,' she thought sadly, running a finger over the dusty screen. 'Never a moment's rest for him.'
*****
Chichi was roused from her deep dreamless slumber by an incessant knocking sound, and awoke to find her eldest had left some time during the night. Her eyes, she knew, were bloodshot, and she quickly dabbed at them with her apron in an effort to make herself somewhat presentable. Casting a glance to the window as she trudged to the front hallway, her eyes began to throb as they were assaulted with sunlight streaming into the living room.
As she opened the door, though, all pretense was thrown aside, and she gazed upon perhaps the only other being on the planet who understood the grief which had taken over the mother, who felt the same sorrow Chichi did: Videl.
"...He's already gone, isn't he?" Slowly, Chichi nodded, feeling new tears threaten to spill over down her already chapped cheeks. "I knew it... I'm too late..." And it was at this defeated statement that Chichi's mother's instincts took over, and she pulled the girl she'd secretly hoped to call "daughter" close, comforting her in much the same way she herself had been comforted by Gohan mere hours before. Videl breathed long and deep, inhaling the perfume of the house, drawing in memories of him...Everything was covered in his scent, even Chichi...everything smelled just like him...
Chichi ran her hand through the girl's hair, as she'd done to Gohan when he would scrape his knee as a child and come running to her, crying, and her eye caught the paper Videl had tucked in her pocket.
"Videl—what..." The girl pulled back, hesitating to give up the nearest thing she had to Gohan, but in the end passed it to the mother.
Chichi swiftly perused the writing, eyes widening in a horrified stare. "Oh...God..." The slip dropped from her weakening grasp, fluttering to the ground, and Videl's focus shifted back and forth from it to the woman blanching before her. Chichi hobbled to the couch, breath coming in short quick gasps.
"Chichi—Mrs. Son! Wha–what?" She planted herself on the couch beside Gohan's mother, hand resting on her shoulders, steadying her. "Mrs. Son?"
Chichi covered her eyes quickly, feeling the oncoming flood. "He–he's not coming back..." came the barely whispered words.
Videl's own eyes grew wide for a moment, then narrowed, her voice hardening with refusal to accept the statement. "What?"
"My boy...he knows he's going to die..."
In an effort to snap the woman out of her trance, Videl rushed out, "H–how can you say that? You don't even know where he is—how can you put that little faith in your own son?"
Chichi mentally shook her head, somehow amused by this girl's naiveté. "...You don't get it... there's so much you don't understand about him...."
Videl admitted, "Maybe I don't know him as well as you do, but I'm not giving up hope for him."
This time, Chichi physically shook her head, uncovering her eyes to look at the girl. "Dragonballs."
Her expression melted into one of confusion. "That was—on the note..." Dragonballs–Bulma. Lookout.
Chichi nodded, eyes dropping as she lapsed back into the trance-like state she'd been pulled from, speaking softly, but still loud enough for Videl to hear. "He would never...never have asked us to get the Dragonballs...not unless he thought we might need them."
What were these Dragonballs? Humoring her, Videl questioned, "Need them...for what?"
This query pulled Chichi's gaze back level with Videl's. "To revive him. To bring him back. From the dead."
*****
Patiently, the Supreme Kai awaited the return of the newly rejoined Gohan atop the Lookout high above the earth with Kibito, Piccolo, Dende, and Mr. Popo. Or rather, the Kai, Kibito and Dende waited patiently, while Piccolo resorted to his usual bout of pacing and Mr. Popo attended to the daily chores about the temple.
In an instant, though, five gazes were turned to greet an inbound figure, backlit by a magnificent rising sun—perhaps, the Kai thought grimly, the last sunrise this poor planet might see should his predictions of Gohan's power be wrong. As he touched down on the tiled floor, Gohan quickly movied to make an apology for his previous abrupt exit, only to be stopped by the Supreme Kai.
"Don't worry about something as trivial as that right now, my boy. There are more pressing matters at hand; we should focus on the battle ahead. Babidi and the South Kai have naturally learned of your fusion, and that has made them that much more desperate in their preparations for war. Babidi is still trying to gather enough energy to release Majin Buu; they are not ready for battle."
"Then, wouldn't the best time to strike be…now?"
The god appeared thoughtful, hesitating, "It would appear so…"
Seeing this worried look cross the kai's face, Piccolo queried, "Sir? What is it?"
"Nothing really," he waved off the question, "Merely, I'm unsure of Babidi's reasoning behind not trying anything else with you, Gohan."
"But—shouldn't your spell have stopped him?"
He nodded. "Yes, an d I believe it did, but this wizard is hardly one to be thwarted by something so simple as the protection I've placed on you. He still needs to gather human energy to release his monster from its prison. We should be more careful now than ever."
"Well—waiting around speculating isn't doing anyone any good. I say we go see what those two are up to."
Looking up at the newly rejoined demi-Saiyan, the Kai smiled fondly. "You are truly your father's son, Gohan. I sense victory already with you in the lead!"
Gohan blushed crimson, stretching his hand behind his head in a nervous gesture.
*****
Babidi was frantic to say the least. Nervously pacing the thronechamber of his ship, he began mumbling incoherently to himself, leaving the South Kai to look on, helpless.
"Sir—I could try again…I might find some weakne—"
"No! Idiot, why didn't you think of this earler, like when you put that blasted curse on the boy in the first place. You're a Kai, didn't you know about these—these, earrings, whatever they are?! We could've seen to it that they were destroyed, or better yet, we could've lured one of thoase halves to us, destroyed it, and this whole mess could've been avoided. But you didn't, and now look!"
"Forgive me, Master, but the Sup—"Babidi waved him off, waxing further into a rage with each passing moment.
"We're still gathering energy to release Buu—what we need is time. The Kai and that brat could be on their way right now; and now he's more powerful than ever…" He rubbed his wrinkled yellow chin thoughtfully, beady eyes narrowing. "…South Kai!"
The god snapped to attention. "Sir?"
"We cannot work directly on the boy any longer, your former master has seen to that…But what about someone close to him?"
After a moment, the god caught on. "You mean…a hostage?"
"Yes, but…it can't be just anyone, it must be someone he has a close bond with—a parent, perhaps? Didn't you say he was particularly close with his father?"
The Kai searched his own memory, his mind linked with those of the other three Kais, and his lips curled into a malignant smile. "I think I know someone better…"
*****
"So, you use them to bring people back…from the dead?" Videl concluded as Chichi explained Gohan's reasoning behind writing "Dragonballs" on the paper he had given Videl.
"They can be used for that," she verified wearily. The whole ordeal of losing her eldest had thoroughly exhausted the mother; Videl, however, was still eager to learn more of Gohan and his mission: Where was he? What was this "Lookout," and how did Bulma Briefs figure into it all? Clearly, though, Chichi lacked the energy to continue the conversation.
"Mrs. Son," she suggested gently, "Why don't you lie down and take a nap?" A faint tapping sound reached the women's ears, and they turned to the window. Outside, a light shower had begun to fall, spraying a fine mist over everything and leaving behind tiny clusters of diamonds in the bushes and trees. "I'll take care of the kitchen work."
The mother moved to protest, feeling now was the time to make her move. "No—we can't…we shouldn't stay here." Videl halted dragging Chichi from the room, turning to look, confused, at her.
"Ma'am?" She noticed Chichi rubbing her temples, eyes scrunched in concentration.
"We can't stay here: We have to get to Bulma. To Capsule Corp." She turned to look Videl in the face, losing her weary expression and becoming more determined. "We should leave before this shower turns into anything worse." She moved towards the door, and after a moment's hesitation, Videl followed, trusting that Chichi had good reason to head for the Briefs' home.
"We'll take my jet copter; it can handle weather like this easily." In the few minutes that had passed since the rain had started, the shower had evolved into a steady downpour, and the women quickly dashed from the doorway to the hulking yellow machine, hopping in and pulling the hatch closed behind them. As Videl started up the engines, she noticed that Chichi still had the note, its ink now smeared by raindrops, clutched in her grasp.
They lifted into the air, and Videl deftly punched the Capsule Corporation coordinates into the flight computer, leaving the autopilot to do the work. Turning to Chichi, she questioned, "If you don't mind my asking, why Bulma? Why are we going to Capsule Corp. at all?" Chichi looked up at the girl now, face blank, and Videl continued, a bit more softly. "I…I can't help feeling a little…left out. Like there's a lot going on between you and Gohan and Mrs. Briefs that I just don't know about. You're all so close…" She admitted, "I know you don't know me that well, but…I do care for Gohan, as much as, if not more than, you. So just, please…tell me the truth: Is he in trouble?"
Chichi let the girl finish speaking her mind, then offered up a wan smile. Videl really was something, and she now knew what Gohan saw in her: Spirit. Not the ki that he and Goku and all the Z-fighters used in battle, but an animated soul. Fiery and soft, feisty and gentle, both at once, just as Gohan could be. He was one being in battle, and a whole different one in peacetime. He and Videl, she saw, completed each other.
She spoke. "I have known Bulma Briefs for a very long time. We're not really friends, but our families have been through so much together, that we've grown accustomed to holding onto one another for support in times like this."
"Times…like this? You mean, this has happened before?"
A nod. "Is Gohan in trouble? I'm fairly certain he's in more trouble now than he's ever been in before. He wants us to gather the Dragonballs, because he doesn't know if he's going to be able to win this fight he's in, or at least survive it. He's too much like his father to let himself just get killed without making some sort of sacrifice out of it…Bulma is the only one with access to the Dragon radar; that's why we're going to Capsule Corp: to honor my son's last request."
Rain now pounded furiously against the windshield, and Videl was glad she could rely on the autopilot to guide them to their destination. Water swirled in eddies upon the glass, twisting this way and that from the force of the wind as the plane hurtled through the air. "I know you like him…and I know he likes you."
Videl's face flushed as she lowered her gaze, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear and squeaking out, "Y—yeah…I guess it's kinda obvious now…"
"And you feel left out of our lives, it's understandable. Our…circle of friends…has many secrets, mostly for the good of the planet. Don't worry." She patted Videl's leg in a motherly manner. "You'll learn more about us than you'd probably like in no time."
Videl sighed and nodded, accepting the woman's assurance. "Can you…answer a question for me, though? Gohan's not exactly in a position to do it…"
Chichi blinked at her quizzically for a moment. "I suppose so; what is it?"
"He…Gohan started to tell me about…the Cell Games." Videl didn't miss the quick draw-in of breath from Chichi as she uttered this statement. "But, something would come up every time, and he'd avoid it, or get sidetracked, or something, and never finish." She paused, wondering how to phrase her question. Did he beat Cell? No, that wasn't it really… "Why…why is he so sad sometimes?" Yes, that was more like it; she wanted to know him, to know more about him. So, what was it that got him about those games?
The mother nodded firmly. "I don't know if I should be the one to tell you this; Gohan probably started so that you wouldn't hear it from anyone else—"
"But I want to know—" Chichi held up a hand.
"I understand, really. So…I wasn't there: I can't give you any blow-by-blow account of that battle. If that's what you're looking for, then I'd say you should ask your father. Everything I know I either saw on television or learned from…other sources." 'Best not to mention Baba right now,' she noted. "But I've heard my boy recount over and over again what went on between him and that monster. Over and over, because what he saw, what he went through that day, would never leave his mind. And that is something no eleven-year-old should have to live with.
"His father was the first of our group to fight, after your father, and after only a few minutes, he passed the task onto Gohan. Said he knew he couldn't win, but that there was someone more powerful who could: his son. What he didn't know was that my boy was not a fighter, not then, not now. He had the power, yes, but not the will. He wasn't like Goku. And so…Cell goaded him into fighting by killing off his friends, one by one.
"That was when Gohan snapped to the other extreme. He was fighting—fighting, and winning—but hardly thinking of anything beyond his emotions at that moment. He wanted to play a bit with Cell, to punish him, but not to kill him—yet. Cell became desperate and bloated himself with energy hoping to destroy the Earth, and that's when Goku stepped back in. Like some noble martyr, thinking of nothing more than the good of the planet, he transported Cell and himself far away from the battlefield. Sacrificed himself…to save us all." More tears threatened to spill over the banks of Chichi's eyes, a few droplets succeeding.
"It wound up for nothing, really. Cell came back, stronger than ever, and Gohan was left all alone to fight him." She blinked away the tears and gave a sniff, reminiscing. "I still don't know how he found the strength to beat Cell…but then, I don't think I ever really understood his strength. That was always Goku's area…For weeks, months after the battle, Gohan would just sit in his room and stare out the window into the sky for hours. I tried to get him out of the house some, even sent him off to a friend's house to train, but his heart wasn't in it. He didn't speak much, wouldn't get out, and stopped visiting our friends.
"And then, Goten came along, and Gohan just…turned around; he was a completely different person. He smiled more, helped me out around the house, played with little Goten, periodically went into town… but he never trained anymore. He used to love the thrill of a good spar, he said, but that was usually with Goku, and usually in preparation for an upcoming battle. When his father left…I think Gohan promised to never train again…If no one depended on him, then he couldn't let anyone down.
"You wanted to know why he was so sad…I'd say he has good reason."
Videl now flashed back to the one-sided conversations she'd had with the Saiyan Gohan. His breakdowns before her when he would lapse into some memory of past battles, thinking aloud. He blamed himself for his father's death still…she felt a great swell of pity for him.
*****
"Well? Which one, Kai?"
"The younger one." He extended a lavishly robed arm to point out the target. "Of late, your little obstacle has become quite close to her. She should suit our purposes well."
"Stop thinking in the past, Kai," Babidi chided, "Ex-obstacle."
The god chuckled, "Of course, sir."
"And what about that other one? Does she have any energy to speak of?"
"It's negligible, sir. No need to waste our time with draining her."
"Right, I'll grab the one we came for; you stay behind and clean up the mess." The Kai nodded his assent.
So engrossed in their conversation were Chichi and Videl, that they didn't notice the two robed figures hurtling towards them until it was too late, crashing the copter to the ground, and after being knocked out by the South Kai, neither woman knew much more of anything. Babidi shoved Videl roughly into a pocket dimension and moved to head back to the ship, calling back, "Don't take too long with this; the brat and Supreme Kai will be arriving any moment now."
As his master disappeared into the night, the South Kai slowly turned back to the jet copter wreckage before him, and to the unconscious Chichi who lay at his feet. He bent down, and, seizing her by the head, he lifted her up until she was level with him.
"You know, woman, I lost quite a large bet at the Other World Tournament thanks to that smarmy husband of yours…Super Saiyan, pah! Where is he now? Certainly not here to save you…"
Smiling grimly, an evil glint in his eye, he added, "Husbands and wives should be together: Why don't I send you to meet up with him?"
—END CHAPTER ELEVEN—
Post-chapter Notes: Another chapter down, who knows how many more to go. I've got a few more twists to add before I finish up this story, so hang tight. Remember, more uploads, more often! For now, let me know what this chapter did for you, and how you think I can improve it. Want e-mail notice of updates? Send me a note at orofangwen@fr.st, and I'll put you on the list! Thanks always!