Manus Cruentus
Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ.
Chapter Two
Among demons, few truisms are held to be inviolable. Hell spawn are not particularly agreeable; nor do the denizens of Otherworld's one hundred and thirty six lower levels tend to trust one another. The primary reason for these facts is simple: in the 'dog eat dog' world that demons live in, the naive and trusting were always the first to face reincarnation (reincarnation is the result of a spirit form's 'death').
Though this fact causes most preaching of ideals to be ignored or scorned, the mentality also resulted in a few sayings becoming universally accepted. One of these saying is "The only man who deserves complete trust is a dead one." The demonic entity currently inhabiting Erasa Pen's body -- a Karttikeya -- was one of this truisms strongest proponents.
For that reason, when Erasa had first heard of a golden warrior with phenomenal power roaming the streets of Satan City, she had chosen to remain in her classroom. Many of the numerous rumours surrounding the new arrival were contradictory, ludicrous, or both. Certainly, the possibility that the Super Saiyan vigilante had worn rocket boots and carried a plasma rifle fell under the latter of the two aforementioned categories.
The possessed teenager, therefore, chose to simply wait. Her ki senses -- which, though not infallible, were certainly more accurate a source of information than idle gossip -- had informed her that the demi-Saiyan saviour approached her classroom. Apparently, Ravanna's replacement for the Earth's Kami had done his job properly; Erasa would have many opportunities to observe her quarry.
Abruptly, slamming the door with her arrival, Videl entered the classroom. Storing the information in her expansive brain, the demon grinned at her host's friend; there was no need to raise suspicion. Videl never noticed that the grin never reached her best friend's eyes.
The daughter of Mr. Satan began to chat with Erasa absentmindedly. She hadn't seen her childhood confidant for almost a month and apparently felt the need to make up for lost time. The once bubbly Erasa answered with little more than grunts and single words. This time, the prodigal martial artist noticed her friend's abnormal behaviour.
Waving a hand in front of her blond-haired friend's face, Videl asked , somewhat irritated, "Erasa, are you listening to me? What's wrong? Don't tell me you have another boyfriend." The way in which the youngest Satan spat out the word boyfriend made her disapproval startlingly clear. Erasa didn't appear to notice.
"Sure Videl. That must be it," the demon replied absentmindedly. She had other things to think about of greater import than the brat's petty problems. Namely, she noted a suppressed power with the demi-Saiyan. The ki appeared human, but a strong magical aura was present that few of earth's inhabitants could generate. The being could simply be enchanted, but the demonic body snatcher knew of no spell that would leave such a strong residue. Furthermore, the creature's ki was flunctuating slightly -- that was what tipped her off that the entity could hide its ki -- suggesting either aggitation or amusement. The new arrivals would both prove interesting to investigate. Perhaps, the second individual she'd detected would even prove a useful ally.
Videl interrupted Erasa's contemplation once more, beginning to rant: "What is with you and all your boyfriends Erasa. Its almost like you get a new one every week. I can't believe a friend of mind is so easy!"
Erasa mentally replied, repressing the urge to snort: "Well atleast I'm not some frigid bitch."
Then, cutting off Videl's rant, the classroom's door opened slowly, as if the person entering was hesitant. Conversation stopped, as everyone attempted to get a glance at whoever had interrupted the beginnings of their class. Son Gohan walked into the room.
* * *
Son Gohan hated school already. Unlike most students, who disdained either education or social interaction, the teenaged demi-Saiyan excitedly anticipated both experiences. The problem was that he could not discover the area that the school secretary had designated his classroom.
Orange Star High was a maze of corridors and rooms that -- to someone who had limited experience in urban settings -- seemed never-ending. Gohan had been wandering the apparently mislabelled hallways for almost thirty minutes now and he remained utterly befuddled. The Super Saiyan student had discovered that every time he travelled up one floor, the numbers on the doors skipped irregularly. For example, 146 was the highest numbered door on the first floor, while the second floor's labelling ended at 239, and 353 was the room upon which the third floor ended. Furthermore, every floor's numbering seemed to start with something hundred and one, regardless of what door number had ended the previous floor. The organization was reprehensible. What was the point in randomly skipping room numbers? The school's system made no sense!
Abruptly, an amused masculine voice from behind the half-human hybrid halted Gohan's random wanderings through Orange Star High: "If you're quite finished traipsing around the school aimlessly, I believe I could offer you some assistance."
Although annoyed with the new arrival's haughty tones, Gohan wasn't prepared to turn down any offers of help. Turning to look at the obviously male person behind him, the former warrior did a quick visual scan of the teen, simultaneously sensing the young man's ki.
The individual who had approached Gohan had a marginally elevated ki, but he was no threat to Gohan; even Mr. Satan could have crushed him with ease. His appearance was slightly more remarkable. The teenager had a wiry physique that, though it appeared to lack power, could hide a significant amount of speed. Jet black hair sharply contrasted the boy's pallor: his skin was almost uniformly white. What was even stranger to Gohan, however, was the way the man practically oozed intimidation and coolness. Part of the intimidation factor was caused by the youth's stature: he stood six foot five, towering over even Gohan. Height was something Goku's son had long ago learned to ignore, though. A creature's size did not necessarily reflect its power. Nappa and Vegeta illustrated that point well. The man's features were what vexed Son Gohan. Cold, calculating, beryl blue orbs bored into their surroundings ruthlessly, categorizing and analysing everything around them. Nothing escaped their scrutiny. The man's smile was equally fearsome. More of a smirk than anything else, the expression always gave the impression that its recipient was being laughed at, opposed to laughing with the teen.
Despite Gohan's misgivings, he hesitated no more than an instant before extending his hand to the strange young man. "Son Gohan," the demi-Saiyan intoned, introducing himself cautiously.
The irksome grin he wore never leaving his face, the fellow student replied in a similar monotone to Gohan's: "Fatum Ultori."
The gazes of the two locked, neither backing down. Gohan couldn't shake the feeling that this Fatum Ultori was a threat, despite the input of his measurable senses. The danger sense -- not one of the aforementioned 'measurable senses' --, which all martial artists develop to some extent, was practically screaming at the man's proximity to Gohan. Fatum cracked first in the battle of wills, or perhaps he simply didn't deem such a confrontation as worth his time. Either way, the taller of the two was the first to avert his eyes, though he retained that grin: an expression Gohan already had come to loathe.
Gesturing to Gohan's left, Fatum pointed at a door Gohan had accidentally skipped. "I believe that is our classroom, Son Gohan."
Sheepishly -- at missing something so obvious -- the demi-Saiyan walked over to the room's entrance, muttering a few words of thanks to Fatum. Leading the way, the hybrid scholar opened the door, interrupting the class' teacher's beginning of the year lecture. She was not amused by his presence in the least.
"So, you must be Son Gohan, or maybe that other new boy... Mr. Ultori," their short blond professor commented. The teacher narrowed her eyes at the eldest Son child threateningly. "Either way, I expected more punctuality from a student of your quality. The fact that you scored one-hundred percent on your exams does not excuse your lateness. In point of fact, your intelligence makes this late appearance even more disturbing. I would think that you would know better than to show up thirty minutes late for class. I will let you get away with this offence because you are a new student, but do not expect a similar courtesy again. Please, introduce yourself and take your seat."
Shyly, Gohan stepped forward. Looking at the numerous teenagers around him gave the young man pause. Never before had the half-Saiyan seen anywhere near this number of people his age in one place. The closest Gohan had ever come to seeing this many individuals was at the biannual Z fighter gatherings, but, then again, noone at those get togethers could claim to be both the Super Saiyan's age and human.
Ultimately, Gohan found the classroom intimidating; this disposition did little to calm the demi-alien's nerves. Clearing his throat and apprehensively tugging at the collar of the white sweat shirt his mother had bought him, Gohan finally spoke up: "My name is Son Gohan and I live in the 439 Mountain Area. I like reading, studying and-"
Gohan was cut off by the teacher tersely: "My Lord boy. I asked for a name, not your life story. Please sit down so we can continue with the class."
Gohan simply gulped and complied, taking one of the two empty seats beside a strange blond girl whom, upon looking at her, had unnerved Gohan. Though she didn't have that funny hungry look that the majority of the class' female population shared, there was something else unusual about her. She seemed to be sizing him up, not like a piece of meat, but in the same manner with which a hunter might analyse his or her prey. There was also an inexplicable abnormality in her ki. The girl's life energy wasn't elevated or inhuman. The ki was just not right: twisted somehow.
Gohan's analysis was brought to an abrupt stop as his reluctant companion -- Fatum -- followed him into the classroom. Focusing his gaze immediately on Videl, the new arrival snorted and then pointedly ignored her in favour of Son Gohan. He appeared especially interested in the half-Saiyan. Then, his gaze swept over Erasa... and stopped short. Glaring momentarily, he seemed almost concerned for a moment at what he saw. Then his grin widened considerably, as he flipped a few wayward strands of dark hair away from his eyes. Perhaps Fatum did not find her as intimidating as he had originally appeared to.
With a superior smirk, Fatum gave the English class a gruff warning: "As I'm sure all but the densest of you have guessed, my name is Fatum Ultori. I warn you, I am a highly trained martial artist and will kill anyone who annoys me. That is all."
Videl stood up in response to what she felt was an idle threat. She pointed at the new kid and glared menacingly, waiting for him to back down. Fatum didn't even flinch. "How dare you come in here and threaten all of us. I'll have you know that I'm the daughter of Mr. Satan, the Earth's saviour, and am not to be taken lightly. Before you idly bluster some more, you should know that my dad, who mauled Cell, is only one wrung above me. I suggest that you take back that particular ultimatum, or else you'll have me to deal with."
Though the majority of the class' students seemed impressed with Viedl's speech, Fatum did not echo their sentiments. His response was a dismissive snort that only served to infuriate Videl further. The raven-haired beauty began to turn red and if she was Saiyan, Gohan would have bet his life that she would have gone Super and beaten the fledgling student into the ground. Instead, the youngest Satan sat back down in her seat, still glaring. She couldn't wait for her rival to make good on his threat. Then she'd show him what fighting a real martial artist was like.
Fatum took his seat between Gohan and Erasa -- the demi-Saiyan was trying to stay as far away from that girl as possible -- without complaint. He seemed only minimally annoyed when Videl attempted to question Gohan about the gold fighter, whispering across the distance between the two.
Fatum, Erasa and Videl -- who Gohan had just learned, to his surprise, was Mr. Satan's daughter -- all seemed to be highly unusual -- possibly even dangerous. "Perhaps," he thought, "interesting times are returning to the Earth. I certainly hope not, though. Having a new threat would certainly cut down on the time I have for my studies." Despite his reservations, Son Gohan silently resolved to start seriously training again. "After all, I've been feeling rather sluggish lately. It would probably be best for me to atleast try to get back into decent shape with the possibility of some new enemy's on the horizon. I should probably check with Dende first, though. I'm sure he'll be able to tell me something."
* * *
Videl had never met anyone quite like Son Gohan. The youngest of the Satans had never before encountered a man who treated her with such compassion, was so utterly naive and possessed the air of mystery that seemed to surround her classmate. She'd been completely unable to crack the facade which Gohan presented to the world. The man was one big pile of secrets. Videl had been able to elucidate none of the countless enigmas shrouding the young man so far, but she was far from giving up the chase.
Son Gohan was a quarry whom Videl could not easily ensnare and he'd evaded all her questions with little difficulty. He looked and acted like a bookworm most of the time, but atleast a few times, Videl could have sworn she saw a warrior's spirit in Orange Star High's resident geek. He'd also managed to catch that one hit from Sharpner... floating almost thirty feet in the air. There was no way she was buying his explanation about new shoes.
At lunch she'd seen the boy eat more food than his undeniably puny body could have possibly contained. The teenage girl had seen incinerators that consumed less than Son Gohan. He'd ate and ate and ate, never seeming to become full. Even when Videl had confronted him after viewing the awesome sight, he'd simply shrugged her probing inquiries off, replying that he was no more than a growing boy. Yeah right. The kid was more like a growing elephant.
The man was a walking paradox. At first glance, he had appeared a nerdy country bumpkin. Then he'd caught that ball and failed to flinch when another baseball hit him hard in the face. The kid was completely impossible. She'd even neglected the strangeness Erasa had displayed that day -- her obvious disinterest in the opposite sex -- and that jerk Fatum to focus on Gohan, but all her efforts were to no avail. Videl Satan -- daughter of the world champion -- had completely failed to discover anything about her new classmate beyond what he'd volunteered in his brief introduction. He could be the Gold Fighter, but his hair, eyes and everything else about the vigilante's appearance she had noted, besides what he was wearing, ran completely contrary to how Son Gohan looked. Feh. They both had terrible taste in clothing. Besides that and Gohan's prodigious leap, however, she had nothing to connect the two enigmas.
The mystery surrounding Son Gohan had led Videl to discover a new depth in her feelings. Never before had she felt the same way about anyone as she did about the second most recent addition to her class. Videl hated Gohan with unimaginable passion.
Certainly, the kid was cute; her female classmates had made that point clearly. The naiveté could also be endearing on some occasions, but Videl despised unsolved mysteries, and, to her, that was what Son Gohan was. Gohan occupied far more of her thoughts than any boy had a right to occupy. She just couldn't get the thought of that nerd and his heaps of festering secrets out of her head. Videl would figure him out. Noone escaped the heir to Satan-ryu for long. Her victory was inevitable.
* * *
Son Gohan had never been so exhausted in his entire life. Fine. Perhaps that was not strictly true. Both his combats with Cell and Vegeta had left him far more physically drained than his first day at Orange Star High. In fact, Gohan's energy levels were so high that he was practically jumping up and down from his need to fly, spar, run, or do anything else that did not involve sitting in a school desk, listening to information that had been drilled into his head at twelve or thirteen by his mother. No, his physical body was not tired at all. His mind and emotions were an entirely different matter, however.
Videl had been stalking Gohan the entire day, insisting that he was hiding some huge secret from her. She was right, but it was the principle of the thing. Why did she care about his secrets anyway. Unless she suspected that her father had been lying about Cell -- which he doubted -- there was absolutely no reason for her to care about him. In many ways, Gohan was beginning to wish that Videl would just leave him alone. The demi-Saiyan was finding hiding his true power and origins difficult enough without having some self-righteous shadow attempting to ferret out his secrets. The other two people who had been inconspicuously -- they thought -- observing him were no better than Videl. In many ways, they were far worse than Mr. Satan's daughter.
Frankly, there was something about Erasa that scared Gohan deeply. Though the half-Saiyan could detect no abnormalities in her ki, or behaviour -- staring at Gohan for long periods of time was apparently normal for teenage girls -- every one of his combat instincts screamed out warnings whenever he was within two dozen metres of the unassuming blonde. Also, the way he looked at her was different from the way everyone else did. While most of Gohan's male classmates stared at him jealously and almost every female member of the school leered in his direction as if he was a juicy piece of meat, Erasa acted more like a computer. Every motion he made was catalogued and analysed by the highly advanced processor that was Ms. Pen's brain. The demi-alien was an open book that she continually added information to. Periodically, her sky blue eyes burned with an uncanny intelligence that belied the "bimbo" facade she generally wore. Whereas Videl actively sought out Gohan's secrets, the not-so-scatterbrained teen simply watched and waited for his inevitable slip-ups. At Erasa's current rate, Cell's final foe would be laid bare before her within the week. No secret could remain hidden from the blonde for long. Then again, atleast when dealing with Erasa he knew she was still unravelling his secrets.
To Fatum, Gohan was already a closed book, long-published, well-read and easily accessible. Somehow, the mysterious newcomer seemed to know absolutely everything about him. When Gohan had leapt well beyond the abilities of normal humans, not only had the stranger appeared completely unsurprised by the accidental demonstration of the galactic saviour's power, but Fatum had looked bored, as if to say "Jump higher. I know you can do better than that." The eldest of the Son children found the man's knowledge about him baffling and infuriating. How was it that this complete stranger could know every nuance of his past, motivations and abilities, while Gohan could not even recognize him. He'd even hinted that Gohan was an extraterrestrial being to the entire class, stating that Gohan's feats were inhuman, but that inhuman feats were to be expected from one of his lineage. Quite simply, the situation with Fatum Ultori was unacceptable. He would have to deal with the situation, and do so post-haste.
For the aforementioned reasons, meeting with the "terrible trio" was not high on Gohan's list of priorities. In point of fact, the first ascended Super Saiyan decided to leave Orange Star High immediately: to avoid his pursuers. Therefore, it is understandable that when the three most agitating people in the Saiyan teen's life at the moment approached his locker, along with Sharpner -- whom Gohan had pinned as an arrogant, self-absorbed jock -- the Earth's most powerful warrior was less than pleased. Those whom knew the half-alien well might have even said -- using the way his left eye sporadically twitched as a guide -- that the seventeen year old was reaching highly dangerous levels of indignation. Those selfsame friends of the demi-saiyan would also have most likely fled to a safe distance -- like a few thousand miles -- away from Gohan: one can never be too safe when dealing with easily angered teens who can blow up star systems.
Unfortunately, the quartet of approaching inquisitors did not know Son Gohan particularly well. Certainly, their knowledge of him did not include sufficient information for the group to accurately analyse his facial expressions. Perhaps, if they had noticed that his infinite patience and goofy grin were a facade, Videl, Erasa, Fatum and Sharpner would have ceased their harassment of Gohan. Only one of the group guessed that the raven-haired teenager may have been hiding his true feelings about seeing the group again. However, Fatum Ultori didn't care one iota about his classmate's feelings regarding their presence.
Sharpner was -- thankfully -- the first to approach. The blond-haired athlete strolled up to Gohan whistling and put his arm around the school's resident nerd. The demi-Saiyan immediately became suspicious. The most self-absorbed, arrogant person Gohan had met since Vegeta's arrival eleven years ago would not normally touch anyone, no matter what the circumstances. Furthermore, the multitalented Saiyan had never once heard Sharpner whistle -- ever. The fact that his petulant classmate approached Gohan in such a strange fashion put the hybrid on edge. Sharpner wanted something.
"Well Gohan, fancy meeting you here. You know, you're just the man I was looking for."
"I never would have guessed Sharpner." In fact, Gohan had guessed that Sharpner wanted to see him by both the facts that he'd detected the rich young man's hurried approach across the school and that the blonde's locker was three floors above where the two currently stood.
"Yeah, well after I saw how you took that misplaced fastball of mine in the face, I thought to myself 'you know Sharpner, that Gohan'd make one mean fighter.' The martial arts club could really use someone like you. We don't win much -- except Videl -- and you might be able to get a little less scrawny too. Chicks always go for guys with big muscles."
Gohan raised an eyebrow incredulously at Sharpner's suggestion. Very few people would call him scrawny for one and -- as far as he noticed -- none of the so-called "chicks" his classmate made reference to seemed to have any interest in the blond jock. The halfling would have likely turned the amateur martial artist down at the very moment if Fatum had not walked in from the other direction, blocking his escape route.
"Don't worry about the wuss, Sharpner. Its obvious a wimpy little bookworm like Gohan couldn't throw a punch if his life depended on it. Considering the way he acts, I bet his whole family's just a bunch of spineless cowards -- especially his father. Only a craven weakling could possibly produce such a pitiful heir."
By the end of Fatum's recommendations and condemnations, Gohan was seething. The Saiyan blood within him was just begging to boil to the surface and strangle the man who had dared insult his family. Calling Gohan a coward was one thing, but dishonouring his father in the same manner was beyond unacceptable. Every fibre of the half-breed's body felt the need to throttle Fatum. The mystery man would get what was coming to him. Gohan played right into his antagonist's hands.
"I'll join on one condition: Fatum's coming too." Gohan smirked evilly for an instant, causing Sharpner to flinch, and then blinked as he realized his mistake. Gohan's response had not caused the smirk's target to become intimidated in the least. Instead, Fatum was smiling even more. Why wasn't his classmate afraid? Unless... Gohan's eyes widened as he looked back to his new quarry. The teenager who had goaded him nodded. Son Gohan had acted exactly as Fatum wanted. He'd tricked him. Gohan felt like the world's biggest idiot at that moment.
There was only one option remaining to Gohan that did not involve beating weaklings senseless without reason. Maybe he could convince his mom to force him not to go. After all, martial arts were not conductive to the half-Saiyan's studies. Yes. That was exactly what he would do! Gohan still had a way out of this predicament.
As Son Gohan leaped straight out of the third story window, forgetting that he had an audience in his desperation to escape the current situation, he also neglected another important responsibility, besides concealing his abilities. The half-Saiyan needed some sort of disguise, so that nobody would connect him with the gold fighter. He'd intended to ask Bulma, but completely forgot with the after school difficulties cropping up. At that moment, Son Gohan had more important considerations than protecting his image. He needed away out of his predicament. Escaping the duo's -- Fatum and Sharpner's -- gambit was first and foremost in the halfling's mind, though, later that night, he would likely regret his choice.
"Wow!" Sharpner exclaimed, blinking dumbly. "I guess he's a little tougher than I thought." Fatum snorted at the blonde's analysis. What a fool.
Videl also did not miss Gohan's three story jump. There was something mystifying about the boy's abilities. The heir to Satan-ryu had to know how he pulled those tricks off. Then, she would respond in kind and defeat him in single combat. Videl Satan never lost.
"I'll find you out yet, Son Gohan."
* * *
Son Chi Chi happily hummed to herself as the therapeutic sights, smells and sounds of the middle-aged widow's modest household washed over her. All around the Ox King's daughter, there was life. On the floor above her, Chi Chi's vibrant and vigorous -- occasionally too vigorous -- son, Goten, was playing jovially with his favourite action figures -- Hercule and Cell.
Though she hated both the aforementioned figures unbridled passion, Goten's use of the two toys never failed to lighten her heart. Just as every other time she heard her son's dialogue for his most valued possessions, the diminutive demi-Saiyan's antics caused Chi Chi to chuckle. The way he tried to copy their voices was absolutely hilarious and sometimes he would even bring out his Vegeta doll -- a pink-haired troll -- as well. The boy's youthful enthusiasm always left the oldest living member of the Son family feeling a decade younger. He was far from the only part of her environment Chi Chi enjoyed.
The wondrous chirping of birds, as well as the gentle swishing sound of both the forest green leaves and serene pond, in her backyard, moved in time with a light, warm breeze. Slowly setting in the west, Earth's sole sun painted the horizons a beautiful orangish red hue. The family matriarch's hands moved habitually, washing various vegetables in a stream of lukewarm water. Light airy breaths filled Chi Chi's lungs, spiced with the fragrance of roses and lilies. All was peaceful in the 439 mountain area. In Son Chi Chi's opinion, all was right in the world.
The front door crashed closed; the violent meeting of a steel door frame meeting with the surrounding brickwork shook the house. All noise, save the ominous stomping of Chi Chi's first son, halted abruptly. The wind itself appeared to still in anticipation of the coming conflict. Son Gohan had returned home. Any semblance of peace was lost. The disruption of Chi Chi's relaxation was unacceptable.
"Son Gohan!" the boy's mother screamed. "How dare you act so violently!?! I raised you better than that!" Placing her hands on her hips, Son Chi Chi glared menacingly in Gohan's direction. Despite her diminutive height -- in comparison to her more than six foot tall son -- the princess of the Ox Kingdom made an effort to look down on her her son. His behaviour was completely improper. Her tactics worked faultlessly on her now cowering son. Chi Chi had lost no skill in the art of intimidation with her youth. If anything, the widow was doubly terrifying; she had a wealth of experience.
"I'm s-sorry mom," Gohan stuttered, "but I've had a really bad day at school."
Her fury doubling in intensity after hearing her son's reply, Chi Chi's fist crashed through the counter, splintering the surface. "What happened!?! If the mean boys at that school hurt you in any way, I'll chop off their manhood and sic Icarus on them!" Gohan's mother conveniently forgot that her son happened to be among the top five fighters in the universe on a good day (on a bad day the other four put together wouldn't stand a chance). She also failed to note her youngest son -- a mere seven year old -- just outside the room, who had heard every word of her rant.
"Mommy, what's a manhood?"
Chi Chi blanched. "Well, Goten that's what you pee with."
"But then, if you cut them off, how would they go to the bathroom? Would it come out of their mouths or something?" Goten's face scrunched up cutely for a moment, as he seriously contemplated the possibility. "I don't think you should cut them off mommy. It doesn't sound very nice."
Unfortunately for Goten's recommendation, Chi Chi had stopped listening to her youngest son as soon as he mentioned urinating from the mouth. "Goten, why don't you phone Trunks. I'm sure he'd be very happy to hear from you. Maybe the two of you could have a sleep-over."
Goten's face brightened with a happy smile. The boy loved being with his friend, Trunks. His mother rarely let him visit Capsule Corporation because of her dislike of Vegeta. That reality made the limited time he spent with the lavender-haired demi-Saiyan all the more enjoyable. There was one problem with the situation, however.
Chi Chi never allowed Goten to sleep-over at the Briefs' residence because of 'that miserable excuse for a scum-bag alien prince.' The youthful martial artist knew of only one reason why his mother would ever annul her prohibition.
"This is one of those subject changing thingies, isn't it?" Goten's smile faded, as he began to frown at his elder guardians. "I bet you don't really want me to see Trunks. You just want me to go away so I'll stop bugging you." An artfully shed tear accentuated the child's point. "You probably hate me and you're going to kick me out as soon as I leave and never let me come back!" Goten began to wail, as Gohan sweat dropped. How would they keep a demi-Saiyan out of an ordinary house anyway? The fact that Goten could effortlessly demolish any wall in the house was obvious. Chi Chi, on the other hand, fell for her son's act hook line and sinker.
"I'm so sorry, Goten," the middle-aged mother replied, rubbing her son's back. "Maybe we can get you a cookie or two to calm you down. We would never abandon you."
Goten's performance having paid off, he instantly brightened. "Thanks mommy. Can I still go to Trunks?"
"Of course dear. I'll have Gohan take you on the nimbus."
"Reaaaally! I get to fly on Nimbus with Gohan! That's awesome!" Goten began jumping for joy.
Gohan was somewhat less jubilant. "C'mon mom. It's bad enough that I was talked into joining the martial arts club, but this is ridiculous! I can't take Goten, especially with all the time to do schoolwork I'll be losing because of the club. Maybe if I didn't have to worry about the extra-curriculars I'd be fine but-"
"Fine, Gohan. I can see where this is going," Chi Chi interrupted. "It's obvious that you don't want to disappoint your schoolmates or your brother, so I'll let you do both and your homework. We'll just cut off your free time so that you can please everyone. Gohan's mother then began to gush: "My little boy is so caring and smart. He's already the most popular boy in the school and can't stand the thought of upsetting his friends!"
Chi Chi's demi-Saiyan son simply stood for a moment, blinking at the implications of his mother's statement. How could she have misread his intentions so badly? He'd been hoping to escape one of his two troubles and instead had both shoved down his throat forcibly. Not only that, but Chi Chi was curtailing his free time. That little incident last month with the oil tanker and the kamehameha had already increased his studies to occupying all but two hours of his day. How much more could he lose? Maybe after taking Goten he'd visit Piccolo. Though he hated taking advantage of his long-time mentor, the half-alien really needed a punching bag.
As Goten grabbed his brother by the arm, literally dragging Gohan outside, the Super Saiyan level Two came to a decision. As soon as he could, the second eldest -- living -- son would have a long talk with his old friend Mr. Piccolo. They really had quite a bit to catch up on after all and he had promised himself to start training again. Additionally, Gohan had been wondering whether he could use Piccolo's clothing materialization trick to create a costume to wear while he fought crime. It could be that the trick was a purely Namekian ability, but, then again, materialization of fabrics might just as easily require no more than a few hours training. Maybe Piccolo could even provide some information on the strange people who'd stalked Gohan that day. After all, the fusion of Piccolo Damaio Jr, Kami and Nail was perpetually in close contact with Dende; if anyone would posses the information Son Gohan desired, it would be Dende. Piccolo could help him in all sorts of ways. Besides, despite having the best of intentions, the half-Saiyan's mother occasionally got on his eldest child's nerves. If nothing else, the Namekian warrior atleast provided a temporary respite from the whirlwind of activity that was Son Chi Chi.
* * *
The Yunzabito Heights -- the most north-westerly major mountain range on Earth -- was once among the blue-green orb's largest tourist hot spots. The scenic cliffs, sprawling canyons and seas of colourful flowers attracted adventure-seekers and sightseers both, despite the range's isolated location. Counted among the natural wonders of the world, the collection of more than five thousand mile high mountains in a semicircle were long considered impassable; even in modern times, their mystique lived on in legend. The beauty, height and popularity of the mountains lived on solely in that legend in modern times. The cause of the calamity that destroyed the mountains entirely was still undiscovered by scientists and researchers. No human being could fathom the magnitude of power that would have been necessary to generate such monumentous destruction. That was just as well. It wouldn't do for regular people to understand the depths of Son Gohan's power. Who would have believed that a desperate infant in philosopher's robes could destroy mountains?
The fact that the former mountain range was abandoned had made the area a popular training spot for the Z fighters. Without having to worry about prying eyes or nearby cities, the non-Saiyan warriors of Earth could almost go all-out. For that reason, the two most impressive of the aforementioned group -- non-Saiyan Z fighters -- were standing on two of the few remaining peaks of what was now a wasteland in combat stances. From nearly two miles above the Earth, each eyed his opposite warily, seeking an opening. After an instant of observation, an opening was discerned.
Blurring forward with a powerful yell, Piccolo shot towards Tien -- his current foe. The former assassin rarely made mistakes in their sparring sessions, so when the fused Namek had spotted a weakness, he'd ruthlessly exploited the opening. The son of Damaio faked a blow to Tien's head, purposely swinging wildly in a semicircle: a semicircle that left his elbow perfectly positioned to strike his sparring partner in the stomach.
Releasing a titanic blow that was only marginally weakened -- though significantly slowed down -- by his weighted clothing, Piccolo struck, prompting Tien to spit out a quarter of an ounce of blood. The pain did not prevent the assassin from countering, however, as a rain of fingertips danced across the Namek's shoulders, paralysing him by cutting off his ki flow to both arms.
Tien's distraction did not stop Piccolo for long, but bought the student of both the Crane and Turtle schools sufficient time to regain his breath, while his opponent reopened his ki points with a slight exertion. Adopting a new stance -- this one focusing on offence -- the martial artist charged at Piccolo Damaio Jr; his speed nearly equalled the Namek's while Piccolo wore his weighted clothing. The equality in terms of speed abruptly changed, however, as the triclops screamed, "Kaioken Attack!" and zanzokened out of sight.
Landing a flurry of ki charged punches on the his foe's back, as he reappeared, the former Tenachi Budokai winner disoriented Piccolo. An instant later, his foot impacted with the Namek's head -- hopefully a finishing blow. The permanent fusion didn't even flinch.
"You're not strong enough. I've told you before. Even with that trick, you don't have the power to damage me." Piccolo smirked.
"Fine then. I'll have to take it up a notch. Double Kaioken!"
A fiery red aura completely encompassing Tien's muscular form, the three-eyed warrior pointed a single finger at his opponent. "Dodonpa!" The potent purple beam staggered Piccolo momentarily. A moment was all Tien needed.
Dropping the Kaioken, in favour of his preferred attack, the ex-assasin formed a triangle with his hands. Before the Namek could regain his bearings well enough to dodge, Tien fired. "Kikoho!"
The duo had a stand-off. Piccolo lacked the power to halt the Kikoho's power outright, but had managed to slow the titanic attack with difficulty. Simultaneously, the imperial bodyguard's -- Tien's -- life force was fading slowly; maintaining the beam was impossibly draining and the kaioken was not the most user-friendly technique in the universe either. In mutual agreement, both Piccolo and Tien decided to end their session and the Kikoho disappeared.
Frustrated, Tien acknowledged his defeat. "You won... again." Without another word, the martial artist flew off. He was certain would win next time. His Namekian comrade couldn't always be the victor in their spars.
Piccolo had already moved on to other matters that demanded his attention. A moment ago he'd detected his first student entering the Yunzabito Heights. Though Gohan had remained a few kilometres away, so as not to disturb the sparring session, the teens ki was far too high to ignore. Detecting the fourth strongest ki on the planet does not require significant exertion.
Piccolo was quite curious about what Gohan wanted. Since he'd put a halt to his training five years ago, Piccolo's sole pupil -- in martial arts -- seldom visited his oldest friend and mentor; the Namekian would be happy to catch up on events in the youth's life. Even with the agitation that permeated Gohan's aura, Piccolo had no qualms about talking with his rival's eldest son. Who knows? Maybe they could even get a spar in.
"Hey Piccolo," Gohan yelled enthusiastically as he approached. "How are you doing?" The fiery blue blur that was the demi-Saiyan powerhouse halted in front of his first combat instructor and waved. A wide grin lit up Gohan's face.
Allowing his lips to quirk slightly in a semblance of a smile, Piccolo met the teens eyes. "It's been a long time, kid. Good to see you." Then, continuing in a slightly more serious tone, the Namekian fusion asked, "So, what are you doing here?"
Unthinkingly lowering his feet to the ground from where he'd floated seconds earlier, Gohan stared up at the closest person he'd had to a father figure. "Actually, I came to ask you about something. You know that trick you do to create new clothes. Well... I was wondering if you could teach it to me. That is... er... if you don't mind.."
Piccolo's decision regarding his only real friend's request was practically instantaneous. The trick wasn't particularly difficult to pull off; even a normal human could manipulate magical forces in small quantities. With maybe five hours of training Gohan could likely be brought up to speed. Finally, there was the real deciding factor. The kid was one of the few people on the planet Piccolo could not only tolerate, but enjoy spending time with. Compared to sacrificing your life for someone, using a few hours of your time to train said person was not particularly cumbersome; the Namek would have sacrificed his life for Gohan's existence in an instant.
The offspring of both demons and kamis curtly nodded his head. "Sure thing, kid. That's pretty basic magic. I figure that if you stick around for the rest of the night, you should have it by morning."
Gohan smiled brightly once again, in response to his best friend's encouraging reply. Unsure what to do next, he asked, "Okay, so what do I do first?"
"Just sit down in a lotus position kid. Even with all your slacking off, you should remember what that is." A barely distinct -- but readily apparent to Gohan -- twinkle in Piccolo's eye made it clear that the Namek was kidding. After all the year's the two had known each other, each could easily see through any facade the other erected and both knew that Piccolo's gruffness was just for keeping up appearances. "Now just reach out like you would for your ki and then keep going. Eventually you'll reach..."
The lessons continued well into the morning. By which time, just as Piccolo predicted, Gohan had mastered the basics of the trick. The demi-Saiyan was already thinking of new ways to apply the magical connection he'd developed, but decided to save those thoughts for another time. He purposefully chose to avoid his mother -- and the rants that would follow about Piccolo if he did not avoid her -- as he picked up his books and jetted towards Orange Star High. There would certainly be problems later, but for now Gohan was happy, if tired from his training. He could really use some sleep. Maybe he could take a quick nap at lunch.
* * *
The Lookout was a perpetually inviting and pristine location. This phenomenon had two primary causes: the structure's staggering height and a combination of powerful spells. The Lookout's height -- exactly fifty kilometres -- all but eliminated cloud cover and precipitation, while giving a wonderful view of either the stars or bright blue sky depending on the time of day. A number of magical wards shielded visitors from the harmful radiation they would otherwise experience far above the ozone layer and a heating enchantment cast by the first Kami of the Earth increased temperatures to almost exactly eighty degrees Fahrenheit. In short, Kami's Lookout was a paradise; Obitus -- the Rakshasa infiltrator impersonating Dende -- hated the place.
Staring icily at one of the his elite spies from a tall throne in the centre of Kami's palace, he requested information: "What have you discovered about the one named Son Gohan, young one."
The blond-haired female ignored her overseer's glare nonchalantly. "The child keeps his power secret with great fervour, my lord. I heard a report that a "golden fighter" had attacked some human criminals, but the primitives' weaponry is pathetic. Even a Pishaca could have defeated the boy's foes effortlessly."
"I know much about the humans capabilities already. Continue with the assessment of the target." The way Obitus spat the word 'humans' made clear his lack of respect for Earth's principal race.
"Of course, lord. His full power is always repressed to a variable degree, so his limits are impossible to determine. The highest levels I discerned were approximately fifty percent above my full strength. This strength was displayed solely in the first few seconds following his transformation to the golden-haired form. After about five seconds, his power dropped to about one quarter of that level. Questioning has yielded no useful information. In short, he appears to be both highly intelligent and atleast moderately powerful. The child also displays exceptional emotional control, despite purposeful attempts to cause aggravation. The boy is formidable."
Idly pondering the enigma that the guardian's records had indicated as a considerable threat to Lord Ravanna's objectives, the hell-spawned warrior addressed his subordinate: "Your analysis lacks depth, child, but I perceive that this may not be any fault of your own. You mentioned that Son Gohan refuses to reveal his true ability, I believe."
"Yes, lord. That is so."
A malicious grin spread over the Rakshasa's face slowly, like a malignant tumour. "Ah, well then. Perhaps our foe simply requires a small challenge to incite those Saiyan battle urges. Coincidentally, it just so happens that I have such a challenge right here."
The possessed teenager raise a questioning eyebrow. "What challenge would that be?"
Gesturing towards the darkness, the dark lord's foreboding expression grew more prevalent. A diminutive silhouette appeared behind Obitus' shadowy seat. As the creature -- a fanged, pale green humanoid wearing a concealing cloak -- stepped forward into the light. The ancient demonic warrior gestured towards the newly revealed figure. "Allow me to present Garlic Junior -- a second class asura assigned to Earth."
AN: My god, that took a long time. I apologize for the month long wait for this one (I'll try not to let that happen again). I just had trouble because this was kind of a background chapter meant to set the scene. On the other hand, I didn't want my audience completely bored. I tried to mix some fun or action-filled scenes in with the more monotonous ones and... well... this obscenely long chapter came out. If anyone's wondering about Fatum Ultori and why the hell the author's throwing in an original character who seems all-knowing, though noone knows him, I'll give you one clue. He's not an original character. He's a home-grown part of the Dragonball universe with a significant name change. Thanks for reading and, as always, please review. God knows I need all the criticism I can get.
Responses to Reviewers:
MysticGohan: Thanks for the support. I have to be a bit worried that if you found the first two chapters confusing this one will totally befuddle you. Ah well... As for the Hercule/Videl confrontation, it was one of my favourite scenes to write and, unlike many authors I have read, I plan to treat Hercule as a real person: not a saint or hero, but an ordinary person with both strengths and flaws. Therefore, you can expect to see more confrontation between the Satans. Thanks again for reviewing.
reader: Thank you for both the compliments and criticisms. I tried to work on being more concise, as you suggested, in this chapter, but I daresay that many sentences remain rather strung out -- like this one. As for word choice, I generally simply pick whatever the best word is for describing a given situation and if I use more complicated words than some may deem neccessary, it is either to better describe a scene or to avoid repeated use of the same word. Thank you for the constructive review (I rarely get reviews that are both positive and highly critical). I'm also glad to hear you enjoy the story.
aggiebearkat: I don't know about splitting up chapters, but I did revise the scene with the 'winged shadow' to -- hopefully -- clear up that confusion. Hopefully, you find this chapter less confusing. Thank you.
mystickrillen: I'm right with you in the "go dende" category and would just like to let you know to expect an appearance from our favourite green-skinned guardian in the next chapter, or the one after that -- at the latest.
Dreamwraith: Yay, a repeating reviewer! I haven't definitively decided how I'm going to handle Videl discovering Gohan's identity yet, but I do have ideas (hopefully it will be as interesting as you anticipate). As for the guardian, he's back next chapter, or the one after that in a small way, though his role will, eventually, be significant. Finally, on exploring Erasa's character, I can't honestly say I'm doing that. I'm sort of treating her as an idiot savant, similar to what you suggested, but she's currently posessed by a demon. Perhaps, if our demonic friend is excorcised, will get a look at the real Erasa, but that's a big if. For now, we kind of have an evil demon inhabiting her soul and, while this brings up all sorts of fun issues for the heroes, it kind of halts significant character development. Again, thanks for the review; it is much appreciated. Hopefully, I'll hear from you again.
Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ.
Chapter Two
Among demons, few truisms are held to be inviolable. Hell spawn are not particularly agreeable; nor do the denizens of Otherworld's one hundred and thirty six lower levels tend to trust one another. The primary reason for these facts is simple: in the 'dog eat dog' world that demons live in, the naive and trusting were always the first to face reincarnation (reincarnation is the result of a spirit form's 'death').
Though this fact causes most preaching of ideals to be ignored or scorned, the mentality also resulted in a few sayings becoming universally accepted. One of these saying is "The only man who deserves complete trust is a dead one." The demonic entity currently inhabiting Erasa Pen's body -- a Karttikeya -- was one of this truisms strongest proponents.
For that reason, when Erasa had first heard of a golden warrior with phenomenal power roaming the streets of Satan City, she had chosen to remain in her classroom. Many of the numerous rumours surrounding the new arrival were contradictory, ludicrous, or both. Certainly, the possibility that the Super Saiyan vigilante had worn rocket boots and carried a plasma rifle fell under the latter of the two aforementioned categories.
The possessed teenager, therefore, chose to simply wait. Her ki senses -- which, though not infallible, were certainly more accurate a source of information than idle gossip -- had informed her that the demi-Saiyan saviour approached her classroom. Apparently, Ravanna's replacement for the Earth's Kami had done his job properly; Erasa would have many opportunities to observe her quarry.
Abruptly, slamming the door with her arrival, Videl entered the classroom. Storing the information in her expansive brain, the demon grinned at her host's friend; there was no need to raise suspicion. Videl never noticed that the grin never reached her best friend's eyes.
The daughter of Mr. Satan began to chat with Erasa absentmindedly. She hadn't seen her childhood confidant for almost a month and apparently felt the need to make up for lost time. The once bubbly Erasa answered with little more than grunts and single words. This time, the prodigal martial artist noticed her friend's abnormal behaviour.
Waving a hand in front of her blond-haired friend's face, Videl asked , somewhat irritated, "Erasa, are you listening to me? What's wrong? Don't tell me you have another boyfriend." The way in which the youngest Satan spat out the word boyfriend made her disapproval startlingly clear. Erasa didn't appear to notice.
"Sure Videl. That must be it," the demon replied absentmindedly. She had other things to think about of greater import than the brat's petty problems. Namely, she noted a suppressed power with the demi-Saiyan. The ki appeared human, but a strong magical aura was present that few of earth's inhabitants could generate. The being could simply be enchanted, but the demonic body snatcher knew of no spell that would leave such a strong residue. Furthermore, the creature's ki was flunctuating slightly -- that was what tipped her off that the entity could hide its ki -- suggesting either aggitation or amusement. The new arrivals would both prove interesting to investigate. Perhaps, the second individual she'd detected would even prove a useful ally.
Videl interrupted Erasa's contemplation once more, beginning to rant: "What is with you and all your boyfriends Erasa. Its almost like you get a new one every week. I can't believe a friend of mind is so easy!"
Erasa mentally replied, repressing the urge to snort: "Well atleast I'm not some frigid bitch."
Then, cutting off Videl's rant, the classroom's door opened slowly, as if the person entering was hesitant. Conversation stopped, as everyone attempted to get a glance at whoever had interrupted the beginnings of their class. Son Gohan walked into the room.
* * *
Son Gohan hated school already. Unlike most students, who disdained either education or social interaction, the teenaged demi-Saiyan excitedly anticipated both experiences. The problem was that he could not discover the area that the school secretary had designated his classroom.
Orange Star High was a maze of corridors and rooms that -- to someone who had limited experience in urban settings -- seemed never-ending. Gohan had been wandering the apparently mislabelled hallways for almost thirty minutes now and he remained utterly befuddled. The Super Saiyan student had discovered that every time he travelled up one floor, the numbers on the doors skipped irregularly. For example, 146 was the highest numbered door on the first floor, while the second floor's labelling ended at 239, and 353 was the room upon which the third floor ended. Furthermore, every floor's numbering seemed to start with something hundred and one, regardless of what door number had ended the previous floor. The organization was reprehensible. What was the point in randomly skipping room numbers? The school's system made no sense!
Abruptly, an amused masculine voice from behind the half-human hybrid halted Gohan's random wanderings through Orange Star High: "If you're quite finished traipsing around the school aimlessly, I believe I could offer you some assistance."
Although annoyed with the new arrival's haughty tones, Gohan wasn't prepared to turn down any offers of help. Turning to look at the obviously male person behind him, the former warrior did a quick visual scan of the teen, simultaneously sensing the young man's ki.
The individual who had approached Gohan had a marginally elevated ki, but he was no threat to Gohan; even Mr. Satan could have crushed him with ease. His appearance was slightly more remarkable. The teenager had a wiry physique that, though it appeared to lack power, could hide a significant amount of speed. Jet black hair sharply contrasted the boy's pallor: his skin was almost uniformly white. What was even stranger to Gohan, however, was the way the man practically oozed intimidation and coolness. Part of the intimidation factor was caused by the youth's stature: he stood six foot five, towering over even Gohan. Height was something Goku's son had long ago learned to ignore, though. A creature's size did not necessarily reflect its power. Nappa and Vegeta illustrated that point well. The man's features were what vexed Son Gohan. Cold, calculating, beryl blue orbs bored into their surroundings ruthlessly, categorizing and analysing everything around them. Nothing escaped their scrutiny. The man's smile was equally fearsome. More of a smirk than anything else, the expression always gave the impression that its recipient was being laughed at, opposed to laughing with the teen.
Despite Gohan's misgivings, he hesitated no more than an instant before extending his hand to the strange young man. "Son Gohan," the demi-Saiyan intoned, introducing himself cautiously.
The irksome grin he wore never leaving his face, the fellow student replied in a similar monotone to Gohan's: "Fatum Ultori."
The gazes of the two locked, neither backing down. Gohan couldn't shake the feeling that this Fatum Ultori was a threat, despite the input of his measurable senses. The danger sense -- not one of the aforementioned 'measurable senses' --, which all martial artists develop to some extent, was practically screaming at the man's proximity to Gohan. Fatum cracked first in the battle of wills, or perhaps he simply didn't deem such a confrontation as worth his time. Either way, the taller of the two was the first to avert his eyes, though he retained that grin: an expression Gohan already had come to loathe.
Gesturing to Gohan's left, Fatum pointed at a door Gohan had accidentally skipped. "I believe that is our classroom, Son Gohan."
Sheepishly -- at missing something so obvious -- the demi-Saiyan walked over to the room's entrance, muttering a few words of thanks to Fatum. Leading the way, the hybrid scholar opened the door, interrupting the class' teacher's beginning of the year lecture. She was not amused by his presence in the least.
"So, you must be Son Gohan, or maybe that other new boy... Mr. Ultori," their short blond professor commented. The teacher narrowed her eyes at the eldest Son child threateningly. "Either way, I expected more punctuality from a student of your quality. The fact that you scored one-hundred percent on your exams does not excuse your lateness. In point of fact, your intelligence makes this late appearance even more disturbing. I would think that you would know better than to show up thirty minutes late for class. I will let you get away with this offence because you are a new student, but do not expect a similar courtesy again. Please, introduce yourself and take your seat."
Shyly, Gohan stepped forward. Looking at the numerous teenagers around him gave the young man pause. Never before had the half-Saiyan seen anywhere near this number of people his age in one place. The closest Gohan had ever come to seeing this many individuals was at the biannual Z fighter gatherings, but, then again, noone at those get togethers could claim to be both the Super Saiyan's age and human.
Ultimately, Gohan found the classroom intimidating; this disposition did little to calm the demi-alien's nerves. Clearing his throat and apprehensively tugging at the collar of the white sweat shirt his mother had bought him, Gohan finally spoke up: "My name is Son Gohan and I live in the 439 Mountain Area. I like reading, studying and-"
Gohan was cut off by the teacher tersely: "My Lord boy. I asked for a name, not your life story. Please sit down so we can continue with the class."
Gohan simply gulped and complied, taking one of the two empty seats beside a strange blond girl whom, upon looking at her, had unnerved Gohan. Though she didn't have that funny hungry look that the majority of the class' female population shared, there was something else unusual about her. She seemed to be sizing him up, not like a piece of meat, but in the same manner with which a hunter might analyse his or her prey. There was also an inexplicable abnormality in her ki. The girl's life energy wasn't elevated or inhuman. The ki was just not right: twisted somehow.
Gohan's analysis was brought to an abrupt stop as his reluctant companion -- Fatum -- followed him into the classroom. Focusing his gaze immediately on Videl, the new arrival snorted and then pointedly ignored her in favour of Son Gohan. He appeared especially interested in the half-Saiyan. Then, his gaze swept over Erasa... and stopped short. Glaring momentarily, he seemed almost concerned for a moment at what he saw. Then his grin widened considerably, as he flipped a few wayward strands of dark hair away from his eyes. Perhaps Fatum did not find her as intimidating as he had originally appeared to.
With a superior smirk, Fatum gave the English class a gruff warning: "As I'm sure all but the densest of you have guessed, my name is Fatum Ultori. I warn you, I am a highly trained martial artist and will kill anyone who annoys me. That is all."
Videl stood up in response to what she felt was an idle threat. She pointed at the new kid and glared menacingly, waiting for him to back down. Fatum didn't even flinch. "How dare you come in here and threaten all of us. I'll have you know that I'm the daughter of Mr. Satan, the Earth's saviour, and am not to be taken lightly. Before you idly bluster some more, you should know that my dad, who mauled Cell, is only one wrung above me. I suggest that you take back that particular ultimatum, or else you'll have me to deal with."
Though the majority of the class' students seemed impressed with Viedl's speech, Fatum did not echo their sentiments. His response was a dismissive snort that only served to infuriate Videl further. The raven-haired beauty began to turn red and if she was Saiyan, Gohan would have bet his life that she would have gone Super and beaten the fledgling student into the ground. Instead, the youngest Satan sat back down in her seat, still glaring. She couldn't wait for her rival to make good on his threat. Then she'd show him what fighting a real martial artist was like.
Fatum took his seat between Gohan and Erasa -- the demi-Saiyan was trying to stay as far away from that girl as possible -- without complaint. He seemed only minimally annoyed when Videl attempted to question Gohan about the gold fighter, whispering across the distance between the two.
Fatum, Erasa and Videl -- who Gohan had just learned, to his surprise, was Mr. Satan's daughter -- all seemed to be highly unusual -- possibly even dangerous. "Perhaps," he thought, "interesting times are returning to the Earth. I certainly hope not, though. Having a new threat would certainly cut down on the time I have for my studies." Despite his reservations, Son Gohan silently resolved to start seriously training again. "After all, I've been feeling rather sluggish lately. It would probably be best for me to atleast try to get back into decent shape with the possibility of some new enemy's on the horizon. I should probably check with Dende first, though. I'm sure he'll be able to tell me something."
* * *
Videl had never met anyone quite like Son Gohan. The youngest of the Satans had never before encountered a man who treated her with such compassion, was so utterly naive and possessed the air of mystery that seemed to surround her classmate. She'd been completely unable to crack the facade which Gohan presented to the world. The man was one big pile of secrets. Videl had been able to elucidate none of the countless enigmas shrouding the young man so far, but she was far from giving up the chase.
Son Gohan was a quarry whom Videl could not easily ensnare and he'd evaded all her questions with little difficulty. He looked and acted like a bookworm most of the time, but atleast a few times, Videl could have sworn she saw a warrior's spirit in Orange Star High's resident geek. He'd also managed to catch that one hit from Sharpner... floating almost thirty feet in the air. There was no way she was buying his explanation about new shoes.
At lunch she'd seen the boy eat more food than his undeniably puny body could have possibly contained. The teenage girl had seen incinerators that consumed less than Son Gohan. He'd ate and ate and ate, never seeming to become full. Even when Videl had confronted him after viewing the awesome sight, he'd simply shrugged her probing inquiries off, replying that he was no more than a growing boy. Yeah right. The kid was more like a growing elephant.
The man was a walking paradox. At first glance, he had appeared a nerdy country bumpkin. Then he'd caught that ball and failed to flinch when another baseball hit him hard in the face. The kid was completely impossible. She'd even neglected the strangeness Erasa had displayed that day -- her obvious disinterest in the opposite sex -- and that jerk Fatum to focus on Gohan, but all her efforts were to no avail. Videl Satan -- daughter of the world champion -- had completely failed to discover anything about her new classmate beyond what he'd volunteered in his brief introduction. He could be the Gold Fighter, but his hair, eyes and everything else about the vigilante's appearance she had noted, besides what he was wearing, ran completely contrary to how Son Gohan looked. Feh. They both had terrible taste in clothing. Besides that and Gohan's prodigious leap, however, she had nothing to connect the two enigmas.
The mystery surrounding Son Gohan had led Videl to discover a new depth in her feelings. Never before had she felt the same way about anyone as she did about the second most recent addition to her class. Videl hated Gohan with unimaginable passion.
Certainly, the kid was cute; her female classmates had made that point clearly. The naiveté could also be endearing on some occasions, but Videl despised unsolved mysteries, and, to her, that was what Son Gohan was. Gohan occupied far more of her thoughts than any boy had a right to occupy. She just couldn't get the thought of that nerd and his heaps of festering secrets out of her head. Videl would figure him out. Noone escaped the heir to Satan-ryu for long. Her victory was inevitable.
* * *
Son Gohan had never been so exhausted in his entire life. Fine. Perhaps that was not strictly true. Both his combats with Cell and Vegeta had left him far more physically drained than his first day at Orange Star High. In fact, Gohan's energy levels were so high that he was practically jumping up and down from his need to fly, spar, run, or do anything else that did not involve sitting in a school desk, listening to information that had been drilled into his head at twelve or thirteen by his mother. No, his physical body was not tired at all. His mind and emotions were an entirely different matter, however.
Videl had been stalking Gohan the entire day, insisting that he was hiding some huge secret from her. She was right, but it was the principle of the thing. Why did she care about his secrets anyway. Unless she suspected that her father had been lying about Cell -- which he doubted -- there was absolutely no reason for her to care about him. In many ways, Gohan was beginning to wish that Videl would just leave him alone. The demi-Saiyan was finding hiding his true power and origins difficult enough without having some self-righteous shadow attempting to ferret out his secrets. The other two people who had been inconspicuously -- they thought -- observing him were no better than Videl. In many ways, they were far worse than Mr. Satan's daughter.
Frankly, there was something about Erasa that scared Gohan deeply. Though the half-Saiyan could detect no abnormalities in her ki, or behaviour -- staring at Gohan for long periods of time was apparently normal for teenage girls -- every one of his combat instincts screamed out warnings whenever he was within two dozen metres of the unassuming blonde. Also, the way he looked at her was different from the way everyone else did. While most of Gohan's male classmates stared at him jealously and almost every female member of the school leered in his direction as if he was a juicy piece of meat, Erasa acted more like a computer. Every motion he made was catalogued and analysed by the highly advanced processor that was Ms. Pen's brain. The demi-alien was an open book that she continually added information to. Periodically, her sky blue eyes burned with an uncanny intelligence that belied the "bimbo" facade she generally wore. Whereas Videl actively sought out Gohan's secrets, the not-so-scatterbrained teen simply watched and waited for his inevitable slip-ups. At Erasa's current rate, Cell's final foe would be laid bare before her within the week. No secret could remain hidden from the blonde for long. Then again, atleast when dealing with Erasa he knew she was still unravelling his secrets.
To Fatum, Gohan was already a closed book, long-published, well-read and easily accessible. Somehow, the mysterious newcomer seemed to know absolutely everything about him. When Gohan had leapt well beyond the abilities of normal humans, not only had the stranger appeared completely unsurprised by the accidental demonstration of the galactic saviour's power, but Fatum had looked bored, as if to say "Jump higher. I know you can do better than that." The eldest of the Son children found the man's knowledge about him baffling and infuriating. How was it that this complete stranger could know every nuance of his past, motivations and abilities, while Gohan could not even recognize him. He'd even hinted that Gohan was an extraterrestrial being to the entire class, stating that Gohan's feats were inhuman, but that inhuman feats were to be expected from one of his lineage. Quite simply, the situation with Fatum Ultori was unacceptable. He would have to deal with the situation, and do so post-haste.
For the aforementioned reasons, meeting with the "terrible trio" was not high on Gohan's list of priorities. In point of fact, the first ascended Super Saiyan decided to leave Orange Star High immediately: to avoid his pursuers. Therefore, it is understandable that when the three most agitating people in the Saiyan teen's life at the moment approached his locker, along with Sharpner -- whom Gohan had pinned as an arrogant, self-absorbed jock -- the Earth's most powerful warrior was less than pleased. Those whom knew the half-alien well might have even said -- using the way his left eye sporadically twitched as a guide -- that the seventeen year old was reaching highly dangerous levels of indignation. Those selfsame friends of the demi-saiyan would also have most likely fled to a safe distance -- like a few thousand miles -- away from Gohan: one can never be too safe when dealing with easily angered teens who can blow up star systems.
Unfortunately, the quartet of approaching inquisitors did not know Son Gohan particularly well. Certainly, their knowledge of him did not include sufficient information for the group to accurately analyse his facial expressions. Perhaps, if they had noticed that his infinite patience and goofy grin were a facade, Videl, Erasa, Fatum and Sharpner would have ceased their harassment of Gohan. Only one of the group guessed that the raven-haired teenager may have been hiding his true feelings about seeing the group again. However, Fatum Ultori didn't care one iota about his classmate's feelings regarding their presence.
Sharpner was -- thankfully -- the first to approach. The blond-haired athlete strolled up to Gohan whistling and put his arm around the school's resident nerd. The demi-Saiyan immediately became suspicious. The most self-absorbed, arrogant person Gohan had met since Vegeta's arrival eleven years ago would not normally touch anyone, no matter what the circumstances. Furthermore, the multitalented Saiyan had never once heard Sharpner whistle -- ever. The fact that his petulant classmate approached Gohan in such a strange fashion put the hybrid on edge. Sharpner wanted something.
"Well Gohan, fancy meeting you here. You know, you're just the man I was looking for."
"I never would have guessed Sharpner." In fact, Gohan had guessed that Sharpner wanted to see him by both the facts that he'd detected the rich young man's hurried approach across the school and that the blonde's locker was three floors above where the two currently stood.
"Yeah, well after I saw how you took that misplaced fastball of mine in the face, I thought to myself 'you know Sharpner, that Gohan'd make one mean fighter.' The martial arts club could really use someone like you. We don't win much -- except Videl -- and you might be able to get a little less scrawny too. Chicks always go for guys with big muscles."
Gohan raised an eyebrow incredulously at Sharpner's suggestion. Very few people would call him scrawny for one and -- as far as he noticed -- none of the so-called "chicks" his classmate made reference to seemed to have any interest in the blond jock. The halfling would have likely turned the amateur martial artist down at the very moment if Fatum had not walked in from the other direction, blocking his escape route.
"Don't worry about the wuss, Sharpner. Its obvious a wimpy little bookworm like Gohan couldn't throw a punch if his life depended on it. Considering the way he acts, I bet his whole family's just a bunch of spineless cowards -- especially his father. Only a craven weakling could possibly produce such a pitiful heir."
By the end of Fatum's recommendations and condemnations, Gohan was seething. The Saiyan blood within him was just begging to boil to the surface and strangle the man who had dared insult his family. Calling Gohan a coward was one thing, but dishonouring his father in the same manner was beyond unacceptable. Every fibre of the half-breed's body felt the need to throttle Fatum. The mystery man would get what was coming to him. Gohan played right into his antagonist's hands.
"I'll join on one condition: Fatum's coming too." Gohan smirked evilly for an instant, causing Sharpner to flinch, and then blinked as he realized his mistake. Gohan's response had not caused the smirk's target to become intimidated in the least. Instead, Fatum was smiling even more. Why wasn't his classmate afraid? Unless... Gohan's eyes widened as he looked back to his new quarry. The teenager who had goaded him nodded. Son Gohan had acted exactly as Fatum wanted. He'd tricked him. Gohan felt like the world's biggest idiot at that moment.
There was only one option remaining to Gohan that did not involve beating weaklings senseless without reason. Maybe he could convince his mom to force him not to go. After all, martial arts were not conductive to the half-Saiyan's studies. Yes. That was exactly what he would do! Gohan still had a way out of this predicament.
As Son Gohan leaped straight out of the third story window, forgetting that he had an audience in his desperation to escape the current situation, he also neglected another important responsibility, besides concealing his abilities. The half-Saiyan needed some sort of disguise, so that nobody would connect him with the gold fighter. He'd intended to ask Bulma, but completely forgot with the after school difficulties cropping up. At that moment, Son Gohan had more important considerations than protecting his image. He needed away out of his predicament. Escaping the duo's -- Fatum and Sharpner's -- gambit was first and foremost in the halfling's mind, though, later that night, he would likely regret his choice.
"Wow!" Sharpner exclaimed, blinking dumbly. "I guess he's a little tougher than I thought." Fatum snorted at the blonde's analysis. What a fool.
Videl also did not miss Gohan's three story jump. There was something mystifying about the boy's abilities. The heir to Satan-ryu had to know how he pulled those tricks off. Then, she would respond in kind and defeat him in single combat. Videl Satan never lost.
"I'll find you out yet, Son Gohan."
* * *
Son Chi Chi happily hummed to herself as the therapeutic sights, smells and sounds of the middle-aged widow's modest household washed over her. All around the Ox King's daughter, there was life. On the floor above her, Chi Chi's vibrant and vigorous -- occasionally too vigorous -- son, Goten, was playing jovially with his favourite action figures -- Hercule and Cell.
Though she hated both the aforementioned figures unbridled passion, Goten's use of the two toys never failed to lighten her heart. Just as every other time she heard her son's dialogue for his most valued possessions, the diminutive demi-Saiyan's antics caused Chi Chi to chuckle. The way he tried to copy their voices was absolutely hilarious and sometimes he would even bring out his Vegeta doll -- a pink-haired troll -- as well. The boy's youthful enthusiasm always left the oldest living member of the Son family feeling a decade younger. He was far from the only part of her environment Chi Chi enjoyed.
The wondrous chirping of birds, as well as the gentle swishing sound of both the forest green leaves and serene pond, in her backyard, moved in time with a light, warm breeze. Slowly setting in the west, Earth's sole sun painted the horizons a beautiful orangish red hue. The family matriarch's hands moved habitually, washing various vegetables in a stream of lukewarm water. Light airy breaths filled Chi Chi's lungs, spiced with the fragrance of roses and lilies. All was peaceful in the 439 mountain area. In Son Chi Chi's opinion, all was right in the world.
The front door crashed closed; the violent meeting of a steel door frame meeting with the surrounding brickwork shook the house. All noise, save the ominous stomping of Chi Chi's first son, halted abruptly. The wind itself appeared to still in anticipation of the coming conflict. Son Gohan had returned home. Any semblance of peace was lost. The disruption of Chi Chi's relaxation was unacceptable.
"Son Gohan!" the boy's mother screamed. "How dare you act so violently!?! I raised you better than that!" Placing her hands on her hips, Son Chi Chi glared menacingly in Gohan's direction. Despite her diminutive height -- in comparison to her more than six foot tall son -- the princess of the Ox Kingdom made an effort to look down on her her son. His behaviour was completely improper. Her tactics worked faultlessly on her now cowering son. Chi Chi had lost no skill in the art of intimidation with her youth. If anything, the widow was doubly terrifying; she had a wealth of experience.
"I'm s-sorry mom," Gohan stuttered, "but I've had a really bad day at school."
Her fury doubling in intensity after hearing her son's reply, Chi Chi's fist crashed through the counter, splintering the surface. "What happened!?! If the mean boys at that school hurt you in any way, I'll chop off their manhood and sic Icarus on them!" Gohan's mother conveniently forgot that her son happened to be among the top five fighters in the universe on a good day (on a bad day the other four put together wouldn't stand a chance). She also failed to note her youngest son -- a mere seven year old -- just outside the room, who had heard every word of her rant.
"Mommy, what's a manhood?"
Chi Chi blanched. "Well, Goten that's what you pee with."
"But then, if you cut them off, how would they go to the bathroom? Would it come out of their mouths or something?" Goten's face scrunched up cutely for a moment, as he seriously contemplated the possibility. "I don't think you should cut them off mommy. It doesn't sound very nice."
Unfortunately for Goten's recommendation, Chi Chi had stopped listening to her youngest son as soon as he mentioned urinating from the mouth. "Goten, why don't you phone Trunks. I'm sure he'd be very happy to hear from you. Maybe the two of you could have a sleep-over."
Goten's face brightened with a happy smile. The boy loved being with his friend, Trunks. His mother rarely let him visit Capsule Corporation because of her dislike of Vegeta. That reality made the limited time he spent with the lavender-haired demi-Saiyan all the more enjoyable. There was one problem with the situation, however.
Chi Chi never allowed Goten to sleep-over at the Briefs' residence because of 'that miserable excuse for a scum-bag alien prince.' The youthful martial artist knew of only one reason why his mother would ever annul her prohibition.
"This is one of those subject changing thingies, isn't it?" Goten's smile faded, as he began to frown at his elder guardians. "I bet you don't really want me to see Trunks. You just want me to go away so I'll stop bugging you." An artfully shed tear accentuated the child's point. "You probably hate me and you're going to kick me out as soon as I leave and never let me come back!" Goten began to wail, as Gohan sweat dropped. How would they keep a demi-Saiyan out of an ordinary house anyway? The fact that Goten could effortlessly demolish any wall in the house was obvious. Chi Chi, on the other hand, fell for her son's act hook line and sinker.
"I'm so sorry, Goten," the middle-aged mother replied, rubbing her son's back. "Maybe we can get you a cookie or two to calm you down. We would never abandon you."
Goten's performance having paid off, he instantly brightened. "Thanks mommy. Can I still go to Trunks?"
"Of course dear. I'll have Gohan take you on the nimbus."
"Reaaaally! I get to fly on Nimbus with Gohan! That's awesome!" Goten began jumping for joy.
Gohan was somewhat less jubilant. "C'mon mom. It's bad enough that I was talked into joining the martial arts club, but this is ridiculous! I can't take Goten, especially with all the time to do schoolwork I'll be losing because of the club. Maybe if I didn't have to worry about the extra-curriculars I'd be fine but-"
"Fine, Gohan. I can see where this is going," Chi Chi interrupted. "It's obvious that you don't want to disappoint your schoolmates or your brother, so I'll let you do both and your homework. We'll just cut off your free time so that you can please everyone. Gohan's mother then began to gush: "My little boy is so caring and smart. He's already the most popular boy in the school and can't stand the thought of upsetting his friends!"
Chi Chi's demi-Saiyan son simply stood for a moment, blinking at the implications of his mother's statement. How could she have misread his intentions so badly? He'd been hoping to escape one of his two troubles and instead had both shoved down his throat forcibly. Not only that, but Chi Chi was curtailing his free time. That little incident last month with the oil tanker and the kamehameha had already increased his studies to occupying all but two hours of his day. How much more could he lose? Maybe after taking Goten he'd visit Piccolo. Though he hated taking advantage of his long-time mentor, the half-alien really needed a punching bag.
As Goten grabbed his brother by the arm, literally dragging Gohan outside, the Super Saiyan level Two came to a decision. As soon as he could, the second eldest -- living -- son would have a long talk with his old friend Mr. Piccolo. They really had quite a bit to catch up on after all and he had promised himself to start training again. Additionally, Gohan had been wondering whether he could use Piccolo's clothing materialization trick to create a costume to wear while he fought crime. It could be that the trick was a purely Namekian ability, but, then again, materialization of fabrics might just as easily require no more than a few hours training. Maybe Piccolo could even provide some information on the strange people who'd stalked Gohan that day. After all, the fusion of Piccolo Damaio Jr, Kami and Nail was perpetually in close contact with Dende; if anyone would posses the information Son Gohan desired, it would be Dende. Piccolo could help him in all sorts of ways. Besides, despite having the best of intentions, the half-Saiyan's mother occasionally got on his eldest child's nerves. If nothing else, the Namekian warrior atleast provided a temporary respite from the whirlwind of activity that was Son Chi Chi.
* * *
The Yunzabito Heights -- the most north-westerly major mountain range on Earth -- was once among the blue-green orb's largest tourist hot spots. The scenic cliffs, sprawling canyons and seas of colourful flowers attracted adventure-seekers and sightseers both, despite the range's isolated location. Counted among the natural wonders of the world, the collection of more than five thousand mile high mountains in a semicircle were long considered impassable; even in modern times, their mystique lived on in legend. The beauty, height and popularity of the mountains lived on solely in that legend in modern times. The cause of the calamity that destroyed the mountains entirely was still undiscovered by scientists and researchers. No human being could fathom the magnitude of power that would have been necessary to generate such monumentous destruction. That was just as well. It wouldn't do for regular people to understand the depths of Son Gohan's power. Who would have believed that a desperate infant in philosopher's robes could destroy mountains?
The fact that the former mountain range was abandoned had made the area a popular training spot for the Z fighters. Without having to worry about prying eyes or nearby cities, the non-Saiyan warriors of Earth could almost go all-out. For that reason, the two most impressive of the aforementioned group -- non-Saiyan Z fighters -- were standing on two of the few remaining peaks of what was now a wasteland in combat stances. From nearly two miles above the Earth, each eyed his opposite warily, seeking an opening. After an instant of observation, an opening was discerned.
Blurring forward with a powerful yell, Piccolo shot towards Tien -- his current foe. The former assassin rarely made mistakes in their sparring sessions, so when the fused Namek had spotted a weakness, he'd ruthlessly exploited the opening. The son of Damaio faked a blow to Tien's head, purposely swinging wildly in a semicircle: a semicircle that left his elbow perfectly positioned to strike his sparring partner in the stomach.
Releasing a titanic blow that was only marginally weakened -- though significantly slowed down -- by his weighted clothing, Piccolo struck, prompting Tien to spit out a quarter of an ounce of blood. The pain did not prevent the assassin from countering, however, as a rain of fingertips danced across the Namek's shoulders, paralysing him by cutting off his ki flow to both arms.
Tien's distraction did not stop Piccolo for long, but bought the student of both the Crane and Turtle schools sufficient time to regain his breath, while his opponent reopened his ki points with a slight exertion. Adopting a new stance -- this one focusing on offence -- the martial artist charged at Piccolo Damaio Jr; his speed nearly equalled the Namek's while Piccolo wore his weighted clothing. The equality in terms of speed abruptly changed, however, as the triclops screamed, "Kaioken Attack!" and zanzokened out of sight.
Landing a flurry of ki charged punches on the his foe's back, as he reappeared, the former Tenachi Budokai winner disoriented Piccolo. An instant later, his foot impacted with the Namek's head -- hopefully a finishing blow. The permanent fusion didn't even flinch.
"You're not strong enough. I've told you before. Even with that trick, you don't have the power to damage me." Piccolo smirked.
"Fine then. I'll have to take it up a notch. Double Kaioken!"
A fiery red aura completely encompassing Tien's muscular form, the three-eyed warrior pointed a single finger at his opponent. "Dodonpa!" The potent purple beam staggered Piccolo momentarily. A moment was all Tien needed.
Dropping the Kaioken, in favour of his preferred attack, the ex-assasin formed a triangle with his hands. Before the Namek could regain his bearings well enough to dodge, Tien fired. "Kikoho!"
The duo had a stand-off. Piccolo lacked the power to halt the Kikoho's power outright, but had managed to slow the titanic attack with difficulty. Simultaneously, the imperial bodyguard's -- Tien's -- life force was fading slowly; maintaining the beam was impossibly draining and the kaioken was not the most user-friendly technique in the universe either. In mutual agreement, both Piccolo and Tien decided to end their session and the Kikoho disappeared.
Frustrated, Tien acknowledged his defeat. "You won... again." Without another word, the martial artist flew off. He was certain would win next time. His Namekian comrade couldn't always be the victor in their spars.
Piccolo had already moved on to other matters that demanded his attention. A moment ago he'd detected his first student entering the Yunzabito Heights. Though Gohan had remained a few kilometres away, so as not to disturb the sparring session, the teens ki was far too high to ignore. Detecting the fourth strongest ki on the planet does not require significant exertion.
Piccolo was quite curious about what Gohan wanted. Since he'd put a halt to his training five years ago, Piccolo's sole pupil -- in martial arts -- seldom visited his oldest friend and mentor; the Namekian would be happy to catch up on events in the youth's life. Even with the agitation that permeated Gohan's aura, Piccolo had no qualms about talking with his rival's eldest son. Who knows? Maybe they could even get a spar in.
"Hey Piccolo," Gohan yelled enthusiastically as he approached. "How are you doing?" The fiery blue blur that was the demi-Saiyan powerhouse halted in front of his first combat instructor and waved. A wide grin lit up Gohan's face.
Allowing his lips to quirk slightly in a semblance of a smile, Piccolo met the teens eyes. "It's been a long time, kid. Good to see you." Then, continuing in a slightly more serious tone, the Namekian fusion asked, "So, what are you doing here?"
Unthinkingly lowering his feet to the ground from where he'd floated seconds earlier, Gohan stared up at the closest person he'd had to a father figure. "Actually, I came to ask you about something. You know that trick you do to create new clothes. Well... I was wondering if you could teach it to me. That is... er... if you don't mind.."
Piccolo's decision regarding his only real friend's request was practically instantaneous. The trick wasn't particularly difficult to pull off; even a normal human could manipulate magical forces in small quantities. With maybe five hours of training Gohan could likely be brought up to speed. Finally, there was the real deciding factor. The kid was one of the few people on the planet Piccolo could not only tolerate, but enjoy spending time with. Compared to sacrificing your life for someone, using a few hours of your time to train said person was not particularly cumbersome; the Namek would have sacrificed his life for Gohan's existence in an instant.
The offspring of both demons and kamis curtly nodded his head. "Sure thing, kid. That's pretty basic magic. I figure that if you stick around for the rest of the night, you should have it by morning."
Gohan smiled brightly once again, in response to his best friend's encouraging reply. Unsure what to do next, he asked, "Okay, so what do I do first?"
"Just sit down in a lotus position kid. Even with all your slacking off, you should remember what that is." A barely distinct -- but readily apparent to Gohan -- twinkle in Piccolo's eye made it clear that the Namek was kidding. After all the year's the two had known each other, each could easily see through any facade the other erected and both knew that Piccolo's gruffness was just for keeping up appearances. "Now just reach out like you would for your ki and then keep going. Eventually you'll reach..."
The lessons continued well into the morning. By which time, just as Piccolo predicted, Gohan had mastered the basics of the trick. The demi-Saiyan was already thinking of new ways to apply the magical connection he'd developed, but decided to save those thoughts for another time. He purposefully chose to avoid his mother -- and the rants that would follow about Piccolo if he did not avoid her -- as he picked up his books and jetted towards Orange Star High. There would certainly be problems later, but for now Gohan was happy, if tired from his training. He could really use some sleep. Maybe he could take a quick nap at lunch.
* * *
The Lookout was a perpetually inviting and pristine location. This phenomenon had two primary causes: the structure's staggering height and a combination of powerful spells. The Lookout's height -- exactly fifty kilometres -- all but eliminated cloud cover and precipitation, while giving a wonderful view of either the stars or bright blue sky depending on the time of day. A number of magical wards shielded visitors from the harmful radiation they would otherwise experience far above the ozone layer and a heating enchantment cast by the first Kami of the Earth increased temperatures to almost exactly eighty degrees Fahrenheit. In short, Kami's Lookout was a paradise; Obitus -- the Rakshasa infiltrator impersonating Dende -- hated the place.
Staring icily at one of the his elite spies from a tall throne in the centre of Kami's palace, he requested information: "What have you discovered about the one named Son Gohan, young one."
The blond-haired female ignored her overseer's glare nonchalantly. "The child keeps his power secret with great fervour, my lord. I heard a report that a "golden fighter" had attacked some human criminals, but the primitives' weaponry is pathetic. Even a Pishaca could have defeated the boy's foes effortlessly."
"I know much about the humans capabilities already. Continue with the assessment of the target." The way Obitus spat the word 'humans' made clear his lack of respect for Earth's principal race.
"Of course, lord. His full power is always repressed to a variable degree, so his limits are impossible to determine. The highest levels I discerned were approximately fifty percent above my full strength. This strength was displayed solely in the first few seconds following his transformation to the golden-haired form. After about five seconds, his power dropped to about one quarter of that level. Questioning has yielded no useful information. In short, he appears to be both highly intelligent and atleast moderately powerful. The child also displays exceptional emotional control, despite purposeful attempts to cause aggravation. The boy is formidable."
Idly pondering the enigma that the guardian's records had indicated as a considerable threat to Lord Ravanna's objectives, the hell-spawned warrior addressed his subordinate: "Your analysis lacks depth, child, but I perceive that this may not be any fault of your own. You mentioned that Son Gohan refuses to reveal his true ability, I believe."
"Yes, lord. That is so."
A malicious grin spread over the Rakshasa's face slowly, like a malignant tumour. "Ah, well then. Perhaps our foe simply requires a small challenge to incite those Saiyan battle urges. Coincidentally, it just so happens that I have such a challenge right here."
The possessed teenager raise a questioning eyebrow. "What challenge would that be?"
Gesturing towards the darkness, the dark lord's foreboding expression grew more prevalent. A diminutive silhouette appeared behind Obitus' shadowy seat. As the creature -- a fanged, pale green humanoid wearing a concealing cloak -- stepped forward into the light. The ancient demonic warrior gestured towards the newly revealed figure. "Allow me to present Garlic Junior -- a second class asura assigned to Earth."
AN: My god, that took a long time. I apologize for the month long wait for this one (I'll try not to let that happen again). I just had trouble because this was kind of a background chapter meant to set the scene. On the other hand, I didn't want my audience completely bored. I tried to mix some fun or action-filled scenes in with the more monotonous ones and... well... this obscenely long chapter came out. If anyone's wondering about Fatum Ultori and why the hell the author's throwing in an original character who seems all-knowing, though noone knows him, I'll give you one clue. He's not an original character. He's a home-grown part of the Dragonball universe with a significant name change. Thanks for reading and, as always, please review. God knows I need all the criticism I can get.
Responses to Reviewers:
MysticGohan: Thanks for the support. I have to be a bit worried that if you found the first two chapters confusing this one will totally befuddle you. Ah well... As for the Hercule/Videl confrontation, it was one of my favourite scenes to write and, unlike many authors I have read, I plan to treat Hercule as a real person: not a saint or hero, but an ordinary person with both strengths and flaws. Therefore, you can expect to see more confrontation between the Satans. Thanks again for reviewing.
reader: Thank you for both the compliments and criticisms. I tried to work on being more concise, as you suggested, in this chapter, but I daresay that many sentences remain rather strung out -- like this one. As for word choice, I generally simply pick whatever the best word is for describing a given situation and if I use more complicated words than some may deem neccessary, it is either to better describe a scene or to avoid repeated use of the same word. Thank you for the constructive review (I rarely get reviews that are both positive and highly critical). I'm also glad to hear you enjoy the story.
aggiebearkat: I don't know about splitting up chapters, but I did revise the scene with the 'winged shadow' to -- hopefully -- clear up that confusion. Hopefully, you find this chapter less confusing. Thank you.
mystickrillen: I'm right with you in the "go dende" category and would just like to let you know to expect an appearance from our favourite green-skinned guardian in the next chapter, or the one after that -- at the latest.
Dreamwraith: Yay, a repeating reviewer! I haven't definitively decided how I'm going to handle Videl discovering Gohan's identity yet, but I do have ideas (hopefully it will be as interesting as you anticipate). As for the guardian, he's back next chapter, or the one after that in a small way, though his role will, eventually, be significant. Finally, on exploring Erasa's character, I can't honestly say I'm doing that. I'm sort of treating her as an idiot savant, similar to what you suggested, but she's currently posessed by a demon. Perhaps, if our demonic friend is excorcised, will get a look at the real Erasa, but that's a big if. For now, we kind of have an evil demon inhabiting her soul and, while this brings up all sorts of fun issues for the heroes, it kind of halts significant character development. Again, thanks for the review; it is much appreciated. Hopefully, I'll hear from you again.