Dragon Ball Yugure Z
A Dragon Ball Z fanfiction
by Son Goharotto (son_goharotto@hotmail.com)
Welcome to Dragon Ball Yugure Z, my personal pet project. This is what I like to call a "multi-generational alternaverse epic." Expect a complex story spanning several volumes that are littered with cliff-hangers and titanic battles. DBYZ has been revised in its entirety. While some episodes have merely been ridden of typos, others have been rewritten completely. I'll be starting from the beginning at one episode a day so new readers can join in, undaunted by DBYZ's length, and old readers can review past events. All this is leading up to the new Episode 37, from which I'll try to keep a normal updating pace instead of letting this be forgotten as it once was.
DISCLAIMER: As much as I mgiht wish it not to be, DBZ does not belong to me. It's the property of Akira Toriyama-sama and many others who (unfortunately) aren't me. I'm not trying to make any money off of this and it's just a way for me to show my love of all things Dragon Ball. Well, except maybe GT. Bleah. I is teh poor, so don't sue me.
WARNINGS: As a whole, this series contains mature language (usually in Japanese), graphic violence, brutality, mature situations (non-lemon), and a touch of angst.
NOTES: A liberal amount of Japanese vocabulary is sprinkled throughout, though nothing extremely important is ever said in another language that isn't translated. Mostly just basic Otaku Japanese. I've compiled a list of phrases I use on my homepage here: www.enpitsudo-dojo.com/libjapanese.html.
"dialogue"
""layered voice"" (Fusion, for example)
{alien language}
[thoughts, telepathy, memories]
_stressed words_
*sounds*
~scene change~
Volume IV -- Madness in the Heart
Episode 27 -- A Bright Flare in the Night Sky!! Visitors from Another Time!!
In the middle of the Central Continent, north of the Paozu mountains, lay a wide open plains land. Here, giant pillars of stone rise from the otherwise flat terrain like the jagged teeth of the carnivorous saurians that call this place home. It is also here that the Namek-seijin named Piccolo, one of only two that in habit Chikyuu, trains in privacy. Often using the very landscape for target practice, he works consistently towards the goal of greater strength.
Atop a high peak, Piccolo sits in meditation. His vigil of self is constant, as he searches for new veins of power within himself that me may tap into. Hovering just above the ground, the cool night breeze lifts his white as snow cape behind him. It dances in the wind with a grace that starkly contrasts the rigid stoicism of his face and posture. Although it is a clear night, the light of the stars alone is insufficient to make the Namek-seijin visible more than a dozen feet away, let alone from the top of a hundred foot rock outcropping.
The soft, repetitive chirp of crickets are easily heard on this calm night, but they do not disturb the warrior's meditation. Indeed, nothing short of the planet exploding could disturb him unless he willed himself into action. But tonight, his attention will be demanded by a power greater than his own.
Even deep in his concentration, there seemed to be something disturbing the Namek-seijin. It was a twinge in the back of his mind, a frightening and malicious apparition of immense strength. He tried to identify it, but the source of his anxieties always skittered at the edge of his senses, yet growing stronger all the while. A trickle of sweat rolled down his furrowed brow and the warrior's narrow eyes shot open. Piccolo jumped to his feet and looked to the heavens just in time to see it.
Brighter than the sun and no more than fifty feet above the ground, a flash of gold appeared out of nowhere, casting a shadowless radiance for miles around. It was accompanied by a terrific crackling din, sounding like a feral roar and some kind of divine thunder at the same time. So great was it's magnitude that Piccolo was struck blind and deaf for several agonizing minutes. The Namek-seijin reeled as his sense returned to him far too slowly than he would have preferred. Steadying himself, the warrior launched into the air with a muttered oath as he searched frantically for the source of the phenomenon.
As Piccolo flew, the landscape below gradually changed to dense forest, the trees seeming to sprout up suddenly beneath him in his haste. In time, the warrior came upon an unnatural clearing in the woods. Unnatural because trees had been uprooted and flung about while the ground was scorched black, crackling and steaming with heat.
"Kuso!" Piccolo swore, scanning the area for whatever caused this. He reached out with his ki and couldn't even detect any animals. Then all of a sudden, an enormous power jumped up behind him and muscular arms covered in coarse blond fur wrapped around the Namek-seijin's neck in a sleeper hold. Piccolo tensed up and gripped his assailants fury arms futily, unable to escape. The alien warrior struggled to turn his head enough to get a look at his attacker, but after a moment, the mystery man craned his neck forward. As the man looked past his prey at the forest below, Piccolo stared at his face in disbelief. The features were sharper and smudged with blood, but the Namek- seijin recognized him easily. "S-s...Son!?"
After a short silence the man that looked so much like Son Goku glanced sidelong at the warrior in his grasp. Emerald eyes focused on the squirming Namek-seijin, burning with the fire of madness. "I see now...this isn't the world I knew. There are many large powers here...far too many... Be this another time or demension, it matters not to me." The man gave a wicked grin. "I shall have such fun crushing them all! Hahaha! Ah, but first..." The mad Super Saiyajin leaned back and twisted his arms, snapping his prey's neck. He let the limp body drop and with a single blast of ki, vaporized Piccolo entirely. "Now that you're gone, there will be no dragon balls," the man commented. Allowing himself a short chuckle, Kakarotto disappeared into the night.
~~~~~
Gohan shot up in bed, suddenly startled. He thought he had heard Piccolo's voice screaming silently in the back of his mind, but the half-Saiyajin could not sense his mentor's ki. He might have gotten up then and there to look around, but a soft murmuring at his side brought the young man back to attention.
Laying back down, Videl snuggled up to his side and the warmth of her nude body banished any fear from Gohan's thoughts. The half-Saiyajin wrapped his arms around the young woman and rolled onto his back, gladly accepting the kiss she offered. After their lips parted, Videl licked her way over his face while Gohan's hands roamed the gentle curves of her backside. "What was that all about?" she whispered into his ear, a note of concern in her adoring voice.
Gohan would have shrugged, but pulled the girl's hips closer to his own. "I'm not sure...it's probably nothing," he replied softly. Carefully pressing himself against her, he smiled at Videl's reaction: a faint gasp and a little moan. The two lovers met in another kiss. [Probably nothing...]
~~~~~
Son Goten flew through the air, but not under his own power. Tumbling endlessly, the young half-Saiyajin was unable to control himself as he cut through some unseen forest. Hurled away but Kakarotto's explosive power, the teen was sent careening away and didn't stop until he rebounded against a steep cliff that refused to break. With his body left weak, bleeding, and numb from the battle, Goten didn't feel the jarring impact or the pile of snow that buried him.
After a time--the span of which he had no idea--the young man struggled up out of the snow, prompted by the freezing cold and a lack of oxygen. His muscles ached and burned with each movement, but a desire to survive kept the teen pushing forward. Shoving aside the last mound of wet, crisp snow, the half-Saiyajin finally emerged from the mound and tumbled down its side. By chance, Goten landed on his feet and used the momentum to start walking, not knowing or caring where he was headed. He just had to get out of there, go anywhere, get help. Goten staggered blindly, nothing but flares of light and deep shadows dominating his vision. Hearing seemed to have no meaning, a jumble of sounds around him and in his head. Exhausted physically and mentally, his consciousness began to wane, then finally ceasing altogether as he passed out. [Tousan...]
The unconscious youth was unaware of the gathering around him and would have met his rescuers had he lasted just a minute longer. Citizens of a nearby mountain village had been out hunting when the half-Saiyajin struck the cliff side and began searching for the cause of the resulting tremor. Just as Goten collapsed, the first of the hunters--a young bear-man named Kumato--walked out from behind a fir tree and saw the teen's body. Kumato immediately called the other hunters over and they marveled at their find. They covered the young warrior's mangled body with animal skins and loaded him onto a sled. Another snowstorm was just beginning when the hunters returned to the warm lights of the village, their wives running out to greet the shaken troupe.
~~~~~
Suzuka Takehashi grumbled as she drove down West Capital's dark, almost abandoned suburb streets. She was just getting home far later than usual, because an enormous flash in the sky hours before had put Capsule Corporation security on alert. None of the day shift employees were allowed to leave until a thorough investigation was conducted and now they were closing down to run scans of the computer database. Apparently, they had recorded some anomalous activity recently and the light made them nervous that it was a result of stolen technology. President Briefs had been anxious to ensure there were no security breaches and she herself was over-seeing the diagnostic scan. To top it all off, Suzuka emerged from the administrative dome at 2 p.m. to find that someone had dinged the driver side door to her new sports car. All in all, it was a pretty crummy day and the young business woman wanted nothing more than to flop onto a soft bed and sleep the weekend away.
But fate apparently had a sense of cruelty, because she was destined for a restless night. Turning a corner a bit too fast, Suzuka had to slam on the brakes when she saw a short man standing in the middle of the road. The tires screeched in protest and it was too late as she crashed into the person. But instead of running him over or knocking him aside, the front end of Suzuka's car crumpled in the collision with the man and spun off the road. There was a horrible sound of metal against asphalt and the once shiny red convertible stopped only after backing into a telephone pole. The front end had been completely caved in and the wheels had snapped off during the skid. Fortunately, the state-of-the-art air bag system had saved Suzuka from any harm and she scrambled out of her car, fearing an explosion. She even ducked behind a thick hedge, but it never came. Standing up to find some drowsy residents running out of their homes, the young woman turned to see just what she had hit.
Indeed it was a man, short and wide with a muscular build. He was hunched over, wavering ever so slightly as limp arms hung at his sides, legs shaking. He obviously just came from some kind of accident, as such the his entire body was bruised and bleeding. Tight blue pants were cut and torn, white gloves and boots tattered beyond repair, and some kind of hard white vest fell off in chunks. The street was literally ripped open in a path behind him and the beaten man staggered onward, heedless of the residents that ran up. Suzuka stared in wonder at the wounded individual. Or more particularly, at his hair. It was swept back in a crown of long black spikes with a widows peak that looked to deep to be human.
"Is that who I think it is?" someone next to Suzuka said. It was Christopher Brown, a young clerk who worked in the Capsule Corp outlet store. Apparently, he too lived in the area. "Oh, sumimasen! Are you all right, Ms. Takehashi?"
"Hai...fine," Suzuka replied, oddly calm. She never had been the sort to get hysterical. "And yes, I think that _is_ Mr. Vegeta!" While he wasn't quite a regular sight at the compound, some people occasionally saw the eternally grumpy man arguing with President Briefs or heading towards a restricted area in the back. Judging by his looks, Vegeta was the father of President Briefs' son Trunks, but rumor says they never married. Few people talked of Vegeta and even fewer talked to him, fearing his short temper and bizarre strength. "It is him, I'm certain!"
The two employees ran up to him and Suzuka dared to reach out, but the slightest touch seemed to topple him. Vegeta fell to his knees, gasping in short, wet-sounding breathes. The woman recoiled when she saw a fountain of blood erupt from his mouth. "We have to get him to a hospital!" Chris said, beginning to panic.
"Iie!" Suzuka disagreed. "Don't you see? First that flash and the delays and now this? Something's up, something's not right. I need to use your car, Mr. Brown. I'll take him to the infirmary at Capsule Corp, you get everyone calmed down. Are you listening to me!? Go!" In a matter of minutes, Suzuka had loaded their boss' consort into Chris' car and took off, hurrying back to work while the young man tried to coax his neighbors back into their homes. [Kami, there goes my sleep!] she thought with a sigh.
~~~~~
"Pafu pafu," Muten Roshi murmured. Sleeping in a lawn chair under a palm tree, the turtle hermit rolled over so that his Sukebe magazine fell to the sandy ground. A brisk wind swept over the small island, flipping the pages of scantily clad women.
Standing on the porch of Kame House, Juuhachi-gou leaned against a post with a tall glass of lemonade in hand. "Ecchi," she muttered in disgust. She turned back to watching her five year old daughter Marron, who was engrossed in playing with Umigame. The jinzouningen took a sip of the cool, slightly tart drink when she suddenly had a thought. She stepped inside the house and leaned over the couch, staring down at Kuririn as the short man flipped through a martial arts periodical. Off to the side, Oolong and Pu'ar argued heatedly over what to watch on television. "_When_ are we moving out?" Juuhachi-gou demanded, taking away her husband's magazine.
Kuririn looked up at the woman in surprise, blinking with big, round eyes. He started to sweat, twiddling his fingers. "Ah, anou....you see, it's like this..." he stuttered.
Juuhachi-gou was about to rebuke the ex-monk for his laziness when an ear-piercing shriek cut her off. Both husband and wife dashed outside, an old fear running through their veins. Even Kame-sen'nin had been roused from slumber, blinking with confusion in the bright morning sun.
Down at the shore, the big sea turtle was slowly carrying Marron on his back while the young blond cried her eyes out. As Umigame crawled up the sandy shore, a surf of pale red splashed at his shell. Juuhachi-gou quickly picked up her daughter, holding the wailing child close, while Kuririn found what had scared her so.
What at first glance appeared to be no more than a mass of flotsam and seaweed, closer inspection revealed it was in fact a young man. He was shivering from the cold sea water and its salt in his wounds, which bleed enough to tint the incoming tide. Kuririn quickly picked away the seaweed that clung to the wounded teen and instantly identified him by his lavender hair and scowling face. "It's Trunks!"
"Nani!? Bulma's son!?" Juuhachi-gou asked, amazed. How could this young man be the Briefs girl's child?
"Iie, the other one!" Kuririn replied, helping the barely conscious youth to his knees. "It's the one from the future! You broke his sword, remember?" While he talked, Roshi came over and the two men carried the half-Saiyajin into Kame House.
After Marron had calmed down, her mother left her with the two shape shifters. After cleaning and dressing the teen's wounds, they wrapped him in blankets to ward off the sea's chill. Juuhachi-gou studied Trunks' pained face, and thought something was odd. "Demo, are you sure this is the same one?" the jinzouningen inquired. "I thought he was older than that..."
After a moment, Kuririn too realized that Trunks appeared strangely young. The one that returned home after Cell's defeat was a man of eighteen, but this one's youthful face looked more like the Mirai Trunks that first arrived. When he had been with them preparing for the Cell Game, the time Mirai Traunks spent in the Seishin to Toki no Heya proved that two years could make a difference for the lavender-haired teen. "You're right, I think he _is_ younger!" Kuririn marveled. The formerly bald man ran a hand through his thick crop of hair. "I got a bad feeling about this," he groaned. "I better call Bulma."
Roshi, who had already grabbed the phone, waved Kuririn off. He held the receiver to his ear for a moment, then sighed and set it back down. "I can't get through. There's just a recording saying they're having technical difficulties."
"We could call Goku; he should know about this too," Kuririn suggested.
~~~~~
The Son Goku of this time touched down in the 'front yard' of his woodland home. The high-noon sun beat down on his weary shoulders with an unusual heat for early Spring and he trudged up to the front door. His very body language spoke of fatigue, having spent nearly ten hours looking for any signs of what caused last night's unexpected flash. Goku was up and about as soon as the flash died down, getting there only minutes after Piccolo, though the Saiyajin didn't know that. Aside the from the odd forest clearing, he found two faint residual ki signatures. The Namek-seijin's and another, stronger one that felt very evil. A wide crater in the ground and some torn purple scraps of cloth led the grief-stricken warrior to believe Piccolo was dead. Unfortunately--but unbeknownst to him--he was right.
Goku shuffled in the front door, his mind spinning with questions. What caused the flash? Was Piccolo really dead? How could someone do it so quickly? What was the source of the dark ki that made his spine tingle like no other? Only Furiiza himself had caused such a reaction in the human-raised Saiyajin, and Goku didn't want to think about what that implied. The warrior shook those thoughts from his head, noticing his wife sitting at the table.
Chichi was leaning forwards in her chair and her soft features were scrunched a bit in concern, her fingers working anxiously along the cord of the telephone. She didn't even see Goku walk in, finally acknowledging him with a small, sad smile when he put a hand on her shoulder. The Saiyajin pulled up a chair beside his wife, waiting patiently. "Yes, thank you, Kuririn-sa," the woman said at last. "We appreciate the call, I'm sure he'll be dow--......oh, I see.... He can meet you on the way? I understand, you hurry up and get him some help. Alright, bye." Chichi hung up the receiver and sighed.
"That was Kuririn? What's the matter?" Goku asked.
Chichi took a deep breath, disturbed by the news. "Not long ago, Kuririn-sa and Juuhachi-gou-sa found...Trunks washed up on the beach... He was badly injured and they think he might have something to do with the flash of light last night."
"Trunks!?" Goku echoed. "What coulda happen'd to little Trunks!? Does Bulma know!?"
"No, they're taking him to Capsule Corp right now. Demo...it's not _that_ Trunks. Kuririn-sa said it was the other Trunks, the one from the future. But there was something wrong, like he looked too young..."
Goku punched a fist into his palm. "Kuso! This is makes things even worse!"
The woman gave her husband a worried look. "You didn't find anything?"
"Worse," he replied, holding up the purple rags. "I think Piccolo is dead. And whoever did it is still runnin' around out there somewhere. I gotta go talk to the gang, this could get bad. Real bad... When Goten wakes up, tell him not to leave the house or let his power show. Jus' to be sure..."
"Hai...please be careful, Goku-sa," Chichi said, giving her husband what she feared would be their last embrace. "It's been...so nice these past two years, I don't want to lose you again..." The woman trailed off again, starting to cry. Goku kissed her gently on the cheek, giving her his warmest smile. He winked, then put two fingers to his forehead and disappeared.
A Dragon Ball Z fanfiction
by Son Goharotto (son_goharotto@hotmail.com)
Welcome to Dragon Ball Yugure Z, my personal pet project. This is what I like to call a "multi-generational alternaverse epic." Expect a complex story spanning several volumes that are littered with cliff-hangers and titanic battles. DBYZ has been revised in its entirety. While some episodes have merely been ridden of typos, others have been rewritten completely. I'll be starting from the beginning at one episode a day so new readers can join in, undaunted by DBYZ's length, and old readers can review past events. All this is leading up to the new Episode 37, from which I'll try to keep a normal updating pace instead of letting this be forgotten as it once was.
DISCLAIMER: As much as I mgiht wish it not to be, DBZ does not belong to me. It's the property of Akira Toriyama-sama and many others who (unfortunately) aren't me. I'm not trying to make any money off of this and it's just a way for me to show my love of all things Dragon Ball. Well, except maybe GT. Bleah. I is teh poor, so don't sue me.
WARNINGS: As a whole, this series contains mature language (usually in Japanese), graphic violence, brutality, mature situations (non-lemon), and a touch of angst.
NOTES: A liberal amount of Japanese vocabulary is sprinkled throughout, though nothing extremely important is ever said in another language that isn't translated. Mostly just basic Otaku Japanese. I've compiled a list of phrases I use on my homepage here: www.enpitsudo-dojo.com/libjapanese.html.
"dialogue"
""layered voice"" (Fusion, for example)
{alien language}
[thoughts, telepathy, memories]
_stressed words_
*sounds*
~scene change~
Volume IV -- Madness in the Heart
Episode 27 -- A Bright Flare in the Night Sky!! Visitors from Another Time!!
In the middle of the Central Continent, north of the Paozu mountains, lay a wide open plains land. Here, giant pillars of stone rise from the otherwise flat terrain like the jagged teeth of the carnivorous saurians that call this place home. It is also here that the Namek-seijin named Piccolo, one of only two that in habit Chikyuu, trains in privacy. Often using the very landscape for target practice, he works consistently towards the goal of greater strength.
Atop a high peak, Piccolo sits in meditation. His vigil of self is constant, as he searches for new veins of power within himself that me may tap into. Hovering just above the ground, the cool night breeze lifts his white as snow cape behind him. It dances in the wind with a grace that starkly contrasts the rigid stoicism of his face and posture. Although it is a clear night, the light of the stars alone is insufficient to make the Namek-seijin visible more than a dozen feet away, let alone from the top of a hundred foot rock outcropping.
The soft, repetitive chirp of crickets are easily heard on this calm night, but they do not disturb the warrior's meditation. Indeed, nothing short of the planet exploding could disturb him unless he willed himself into action. But tonight, his attention will be demanded by a power greater than his own.
Even deep in his concentration, there seemed to be something disturbing the Namek-seijin. It was a twinge in the back of his mind, a frightening and malicious apparition of immense strength. He tried to identify it, but the source of his anxieties always skittered at the edge of his senses, yet growing stronger all the while. A trickle of sweat rolled down his furrowed brow and the warrior's narrow eyes shot open. Piccolo jumped to his feet and looked to the heavens just in time to see it.
Brighter than the sun and no more than fifty feet above the ground, a flash of gold appeared out of nowhere, casting a shadowless radiance for miles around. It was accompanied by a terrific crackling din, sounding like a feral roar and some kind of divine thunder at the same time. So great was it's magnitude that Piccolo was struck blind and deaf for several agonizing minutes. The Namek-seijin reeled as his sense returned to him far too slowly than he would have preferred. Steadying himself, the warrior launched into the air with a muttered oath as he searched frantically for the source of the phenomenon.
As Piccolo flew, the landscape below gradually changed to dense forest, the trees seeming to sprout up suddenly beneath him in his haste. In time, the warrior came upon an unnatural clearing in the woods. Unnatural because trees had been uprooted and flung about while the ground was scorched black, crackling and steaming with heat.
"Kuso!" Piccolo swore, scanning the area for whatever caused this. He reached out with his ki and couldn't even detect any animals. Then all of a sudden, an enormous power jumped up behind him and muscular arms covered in coarse blond fur wrapped around the Namek-seijin's neck in a sleeper hold. Piccolo tensed up and gripped his assailants fury arms futily, unable to escape. The alien warrior struggled to turn his head enough to get a look at his attacker, but after a moment, the mystery man craned his neck forward. As the man looked past his prey at the forest below, Piccolo stared at his face in disbelief. The features were sharper and smudged with blood, but the Namek- seijin recognized him easily. "S-s...Son!?"
After a short silence the man that looked so much like Son Goku glanced sidelong at the warrior in his grasp. Emerald eyes focused on the squirming Namek-seijin, burning with the fire of madness. "I see now...this isn't the world I knew. There are many large powers here...far too many... Be this another time or demension, it matters not to me." The man gave a wicked grin. "I shall have such fun crushing them all! Hahaha! Ah, but first..." The mad Super Saiyajin leaned back and twisted his arms, snapping his prey's neck. He let the limp body drop and with a single blast of ki, vaporized Piccolo entirely. "Now that you're gone, there will be no dragon balls," the man commented. Allowing himself a short chuckle, Kakarotto disappeared into the night.
~~~~~
Gohan shot up in bed, suddenly startled. He thought he had heard Piccolo's voice screaming silently in the back of his mind, but the half-Saiyajin could not sense his mentor's ki. He might have gotten up then and there to look around, but a soft murmuring at his side brought the young man back to attention.
Laying back down, Videl snuggled up to his side and the warmth of her nude body banished any fear from Gohan's thoughts. The half-Saiyajin wrapped his arms around the young woman and rolled onto his back, gladly accepting the kiss she offered. After their lips parted, Videl licked her way over his face while Gohan's hands roamed the gentle curves of her backside. "What was that all about?" she whispered into his ear, a note of concern in her adoring voice.
Gohan would have shrugged, but pulled the girl's hips closer to his own. "I'm not sure...it's probably nothing," he replied softly. Carefully pressing himself against her, he smiled at Videl's reaction: a faint gasp and a little moan. The two lovers met in another kiss. [Probably nothing...]
~~~~~
Son Goten flew through the air, but not under his own power. Tumbling endlessly, the young half-Saiyajin was unable to control himself as he cut through some unseen forest. Hurled away but Kakarotto's explosive power, the teen was sent careening away and didn't stop until he rebounded against a steep cliff that refused to break. With his body left weak, bleeding, and numb from the battle, Goten didn't feel the jarring impact or the pile of snow that buried him.
After a time--the span of which he had no idea--the young man struggled up out of the snow, prompted by the freezing cold and a lack of oxygen. His muscles ached and burned with each movement, but a desire to survive kept the teen pushing forward. Shoving aside the last mound of wet, crisp snow, the half-Saiyajin finally emerged from the mound and tumbled down its side. By chance, Goten landed on his feet and used the momentum to start walking, not knowing or caring where he was headed. He just had to get out of there, go anywhere, get help. Goten staggered blindly, nothing but flares of light and deep shadows dominating his vision. Hearing seemed to have no meaning, a jumble of sounds around him and in his head. Exhausted physically and mentally, his consciousness began to wane, then finally ceasing altogether as he passed out. [Tousan...]
The unconscious youth was unaware of the gathering around him and would have met his rescuers had he lasted just a minute longer. Citizens of a nearby mountain village had been out hunting when the half-Saiyajin struck the cliff side and began searching for the cause of the resulting tremor. Just as Goten collapsed, the first of the hunters--a young bear-man named Kumato--walked out from behind a fir tree and saw the teen's body. Kumato immediately called the other hunters over and they marveled at their find. They covered the young warrior's mangled body with animal skins and loaded him onto a sled. Another snowstorm was just beginning when the hunters returned to the warm lights of the village, their wives running out to greet the shaken troupe.
~~~~~
Suzuka Takehashi grumbled as she drove down West Capital's dark, almost abandoned suburb streets. She was just getting home far later than usual, because an enormous flash in the sky hours before had put Capsule Corporation security on alert. None of the day shift employees were allowed to leave until a thorough investigation was conducted and now they were closing down to run scans of the computer database. Apparently, they had recorded some anomalous activity recently and the light made them nervous that it was a result of stolen technology. President Briefs had been anxious to ensure there were no security breaches and she herself was over-seeing the diagnostic scan. To top it all off, Suzuka emerged from the administrative dome at 2 p.m. to find that someone had dinged the driver side door to her new sports car. All in all, it was a pretty crummy day and the young business woman wanted nothing more than to flop onto a soft bed and sleep the weekend away.
But fate apparently had a sense of cruelty, because she was destined for a restless night. Turning a corner a bit too fast, Suzuka had to slam on the brakes when she saw a short man standing in the middle of the road. The tires screeched in protest and it was too late as she crashed into the person. But instead of running him over or knocking him aside, the front end of Suzuka's car crumpled in the collision with the man and spun off the road. There was a horrible sound of metal against asphalt and the once shiny red convertible stopped only after backing into a telephone pole. The front end had been completely caved in and the wheels had snapped off during the skid. Fortunately, the state-of-the-art air bag system had saved Suzuka from any harm and she scrambled out of her car, fearing an explosion. She even ducked behind a thick hedge, but it never came. Standing up to find some drowsy residents running out of their homes, the young woman turned to see just what she had hit.
Indeed it was a man, short and wide with a muscular build. He was hunched over, wavering ever so slightly as limp arms hung at his sides, legs shaking. He obviously just came from some kind of accident, as such the his entire body was bruised and bleeding. Tight blue pants were cut and torn, white gloves and boots tattered beyond repair, and some kind of hard white vest fell off in chunks. The street was literally ripped open in a path behind him and the beaten man staggered onward, heedless of the residents that ran up. Suzuka stared in wonder at the wounded individual. Or more particularly, at his hair. It was swept back in a crown of long black spikes with a widows peak that looked to deep to be human.
"Is that who I think it is?" someone next to Suzuka said. It was Christopher Brown, a young clerk who worked in the Capsule Corp outlet store. Apparently, he too lived in the area. "Oh, sumimasen! Are you all right, Ms. Takehashi?"
"Hai...fine," Suzuka replied, oddly calm. She never had been the sort to get hysterical. "And yes, I think that _is_ Mr. Vegeta!" While he wasn't quite a regular sight at the compound, some people occasionally saw the eternally grumpy man arguing with President Briefs or heading towards a restricted area in the back. Judging by his looks, Vegeta was the father of President Briefs' son Trunks, but rumor says they never married. Few people talked of Vegeta and even fewer talked to him, fearing his short temper and bizarre strength. "It is him, I'm certain!"
The two employees ran up to him and Suzuka dared to reach out, but the slightest touch seemed to topple him. Vegeta fell to his knees, gasping in short, wet-sounding breathes. The woman recoiled when she saw a fountain of blood erupt from his mouth. "We have to get him to a hospital!" Chris said, beginning to panic.
"Iie!" Suzuka disagreed. "Don't you see? First that flash and the delays and now this? Something's up, something's not right. I need to use your car, Mr. Brown. I'll take him to the infirmary at Capsule Corp, you get everyone calmed down. Are you listening to me!? Go!" In a matter of minutes, Suzuka had loaded their boss' consort into Chris' car and took off, hurrying back to work while the young man tried to coax his neighbors back into their homes. [Kami, there goes my sleep!] she thought with a sigh.
~~~~~
"Pafu pafu," Muten Roshi murmured. Sleeping in a lawn chair under a palm tree, the turtle hermit rolled over so that his Sukebe magazine fell to the sandy ground. A brisk wind swept over the small island, flipping the pages of scantily clad women.
Standing on the porch of Kame House, Juuhachi-gou leaned against a post with a tall glass of lemonade in hand. "Ecchi," she muttered in disgust. She turned back to watching her five year old daughter Marron, who was engrossed in playing with Umigame. The jinzouningen took a sip of the cool, slightly tart drink when she suddenly had a thought. She stepped inside the house and leaned over the couch, staring down at Kuririn as the short man flipped through a martial arts periodical. Off to the side, Oolong and Pu'ar argued heatedly over what to watch on television. "_When_ are we moving out?" Juuhachi-gou demanded, taking away her husband's magazine.
Kuririn looked up at the woman in surprise, blinking with big, round eyes. He started to sweat, twiddling his fingers. "Ah, anou....you see, it's like this..." he stuttered.
Juuhachi-gou was about to rebuke the ex-monk for his laziness when an ear-piercing shriek cut her off. Both husband and wife dashed outside, an old fear running through their veins. Even Kame-sen'nin had been roused from slumber, blinking with confusion in the bright morning sun.
Down at the shore, the big sea turtle was slowly carrying Marron on his back while the young blond cried her eyes out. As Umigame crawled up the sandy shore, a surf of pale red splashed at his shell. Juuhachi-gou quickly picked up her daughter, holding the wailing child close, while Kuririn found what had scared her so.
What at first glance appeared to be no more than a mass of flotsam and seaweed, closer inspection revealed it was in fact a young man. He was shivering from the cold sea water and its salt in his wounds, which bleed enough to tint the incoming tide. Kuririn quickly picked away the seaweed that clung to the wounded teen and instantly identified him by his lavender hair and scowling face. "It's Trunks!"
"Nani!? Bulma's son!?" Juuhachi-gou asked, amazed. How could this young man be the Briefs girl's child?
"Iie, the other one!" Kuririn replied, helping the barely conscious youth to his knees. "It's the one from the future! You broke his sword, remember?" While he talked, Roshi came over and the two men carried the half-Saiyajin into Kame House.
After Marron had calmed down, her mother left her with the two shape shifters. After cleaning and dressing the teen's wounds, they wrapped him in blankets to ward off the sea's chill. Juuhachi-gou studied Trunks' pained face, and thought something was odd. "Demo, are you sure this is the same one?" the jinzouningen inquired. "I thought he was older than that..."
After a moment, Kuririn too realized that Trunks appeared strangely young. The one that returned home after Cell's defeat was a man of eighteen, but this one's youthful face looked more like the Mirai Trunks that first arrived. When he had been with them preparing for the Cell Game, the time Mirai Traunks spent in the Seishin to Toki no Heya proved that two years could make a difference for the lavender-haired teen. "You're right, I think he _is_ younger!" Kuririn marveled. The formerly bald man ran a hand through his thick crop of hair. "I got a bad feeling about this," he groaned. "I better call Bulma."
Roshi, who had already grabbed the phone, waved Kuririn off. He held the receiver to his ear for a moment, then sighed and set it back down. "I can't get through. There's just a recording saying they're having technical difficulties."
"We could call Goku; he should know about this too," Kuririn suggested.
~~~~~
The Son Goku of this time touched down in the 'front yard' of his woodland home. The high-noon sun beat down on his weary shoulders with an unusual heat for early Spring and he trudged up to the front door. His very body language spoke of fatigue, having spent nearly ten hours looking for any signs of what caused last night's unexpected flash. Goku was up and about as soon as the flash died down, getting there only minutes after Piccolo, though the Saiyajin didn't know that. Aside the from the odd forest clearing, he found two faint residual ki signatures. The Namek-seijin's and another, stronger one that felt very evil. A wide crater in the ground and some torn purple scraps of cloth led the grief-stricken warrior to believe Piccolo was dead. Unfortunately--but unbeknownst to him--he was right.
Goku shuffled in the front door, his mind spinning with questions. What caused the flash? Was Piccolo really dead? How could someone do it so quickly? What was the source of the dark ki that made his spine tingle like no other? Only Furiiza himself had caused such a reaction in the human-raised Saiyajin, and Goku didn't want to think about what that implied. The warrior shook those thoughts from his head, noticing his wife sitting at the table.
Chichi was leaning forwards in her chair and her soft features were scrunched a bit in concern, her fingers working anxiously along the cord of the telephone. She didn't even see Goku walk in, finally acknowledging him with a small, sad smile when he put a hand on her shoulder. The Saiyajin pulled up a chair beside his wife, waiting patiently. "Yes, thank you, Kuririn-sa," the woman said at last. "We appreciate the call, I'm sure he'll be dow--......oh, I see.... He can meet you on the way? I understand, you hurry up and get him some help. Alright, bye." Chichi hung up the receiver and sighed.
"That was Kuririn? What's the matter?" Goku asked.
Chichi took a deep breath, disturbed by the news. "Not long ago, Kuririn-sa and Juuhachi-gou-sa found...Trunks washed up on the beach... He was badly injured and they think he might have something to do with the flash of light last night."
"Trunks!?" Goku echoed. "What coulda happen'd to little Trunks!? Does Bulma know!?"
"No, they're taking him to Capsule Corp right now. Demo...it's not _that_ Trunks. Kuririn-sa said it was the other Trunks, the one from the future. But there was something wrong, like he looked too young..."
Goku punched a fist into his palm. "Kuso! This is makes things even worse!"
The woman gave her husband a worried look. "You didn't find anything?"
"Worse," he replied, holding up the purple rags. "I think Piccolo is dead. And whoever did it is still runnin' around out there somewhere. I gotta go talk to the gang, this could get bad. Real bad... When Goten wakes up, tell him not to leave the house or let his power show. Jus' to be sure..."
"Hai...please be careful, Goku-sa," Chichi said, giving her husband what she feared would be their last embrace. "It's been...so nice these past two years, I don't want to lose you again..." The woman trailed off again, starting to cry. Goku kissed her gently on the cheek, giving her his warmest smile. He winked, then put two fingers to his forehead and disappeared.