The sun shone down, lighting up a small house, sitting alone amongst the trees. Little movement could be seen, but if you looked closely, you could see a single line of smoke coming out of the chimney, which was being made by a young mother cooking lunch for her husband and son.
In one of the two bedrooms, there is a small boy sitting at a desk, busily writing something, pushing his long, spiky hair out of his face, every few sentences.
The boy, although only the size of about a seven year old, is well into his ninth year. His spiky, black hair is shoulder length and tied back with a rubber band. He wore a red shirt and blue dungarees, which had the bottoms turned up, so that his small feet could poke out, showing off his shiny, new, black shoes. His eyes squinted in concentration as he did his work, until a shout from his mother broke his concentration.
"Goku! Gohan! Lunch is ready!"
Gohan jumped out of his chair, knocking his morning's work on the floor, and ran out of his bedroom. He bumped into his father in his hurry to get to the kitchen.
"Um, sorry dad." The demi-saiyan said, pulling himself to his feet again.
"It's okay, son." An obviously startled Goku replied.
Father and son then entered the kitchen together and sat down at the table, where Chi- Chi had laid out their lunch.
Chi-Chi had allowed Gohan to go fishing with his dad for a couple of hours before his afternoon studying. So when the table had been cleared, Gohan and Goku waved goodbye to Chi-Chi and flew off to their favourite lake.
Goku lay flat on his back as he watched his young son dive gracefully into the clear, blue water. Straight away Gohan's head popped up, a huge grin spread across his face, and he pulled a gigantic fish out of the water and chucked it in his father's direction, triumphantly.
Goku caught it, rolling over several times, then grinned back at his son. He was getting stronger everyday.
Gohan dived under the water again. This was great, two hours of hanging with his dad. He hated studying, especially when it was sunny outside. The water felt so cool. He felt like diving from the top of the waterfall again. You couldn't beat the feel of the wind against your face and the cool splash at the bottom.
Gohan flew out of the water and up onto the cliff edge. He'd make his dive even better this time. He loved seeing his dad watch him, with pride evident in his eyes. It made him push harder to do well, knowing that it pleased his dad.
Gohan made ready to dive, stretching his arms out in front of him and bending his knees, he took one last look at his dad, smiled, then jumped.
Goku watched as his son fell gracefully towards the water for the second time. It was even better than his last dive.
Suddenly a strong wind got up and a cloud, or what looked like a cloud, swept up and completely devoured Goku's young son. Goku held his arms over his eyes to block out the dust and other debris, which the fierce wind was bringing up, and shouted out for his son over the raging noise of the wind.
"Gohan!!!!!!!!!!!"
When the winds finally died down enough for Goku to uncover his eyes, he saw something that broke his heart. Floating in the water where Gohan should have been was his rubber hair tie and a few strands of black hair. His son was nowhere to be seen. He could no longer feel his son's ki, but somehow he knew he was alive, he just didn't know where his young son was.
Gohan fell straight into the tornado esqe wind and immediately felt that he was being stripped of something. As he ventured to open his eyes, he saw a mix of grey and black, swirling round in front of him, as he went hurtling through the mass of dull colour. Where was he going? What was happening? And where was his daddy?
After what seemed like days, Gohan landed, with a bump, on the ground. He came to his senses after a couple of minutes, and looked up at his surroundings, hoping to see his dad's broad smile greet him.
What he saw was anything but his father. Staring down at him was a man. An old man. Probably pensioner age.
The old man had dirty grey hair that hung down past his ears. His clothes were tattered and filthy, but what surprised Gohan most was the style of the torn clothing. They reminded him of a History book his mom gave him to read a few weeks ago. In the Victorians section, the pictures showed clothes like this old man's. The man was also definitely not Japanese.
"Get out of my spot, boy." The man barked.
Gohan looked at him in bewilderment.
"Your spot?" He asked, uncertainly.
"Yes! My spot." He barked again. "Now move on, kid."
Gohan pulled himself to his feet and walked away. What the hell was he gonna do? And how the hell did he speak in English? He knew a few words in English, but he didn't know it fluently.
As he walked past a shop, the window showed his reflection, and it was then that he saw that he too was wearing the weird Victorian clothing. What happened to his favourite pair of dungarees? He slumped down onto the hard floor to mull things over.
Back in normal time, Japan.
"What do you mean Gohan just vanished?" Chi-Chi screeched at her husband, on the brink of hysterics.
"Well one minute he was diving through the air, next minute he's swallowed up by this tornado cloud." Goku explained, a bit too casually.
"My poor baby! Chi-Chi cried, before fainting.
Goku tended to his wife and then left her in the care of Ox-King. He then instant-translocated to where Piccolo was meditating.
Piccolo looked up, as Goku appeared in front f him, and immediately saw his pained expression.
"What's wrong, Goku?" He asked, already half knowing the answer.
"Gohan's disappeared. He got swallowed up by this tornado thingy and just vanished." Goku replied. The sadness and anxiety in his voice digging into the Namekian.
After some thought, Piccolo said,
"A wormhole! I've heard of them before. Just sucks the chosen person up."
"Can we get him back, Piccolo?" Goku asked, hope creeping into his voice.
"If it's what I think it is, Gohan's the only person who can get himself back. He has to find the way." Piccolo lowered his head in a dejected way as he said this.
Goku just nodded his thanks to Piccolo and instant-translocated away. Hs grieve hung in the air after he had gone. He felt helpless. He wanted to help his son.
Author note: This is my first fic so I don't know if it's any good, but I like it. Read and review, please. Next chapter soon.
