Tell No Tales
CHAPTER TEN: Lord and Judge
It was not as busy as normal around the admissions building. Death had apparently decided to have a light duty work day, which suited the office demons and their boss just fine. While Lord Enma would insist that he enjoyed his job and wouldn't mind if things remained relentlessly busy, all knew that it was a lie. Oh, Lord Enma enjoyed his job, to be sure, but even he liked to have a little free time, once in a while. It was good for improving his ping-pong game.
"Okay, let's keep things moving," an office demon said with bored authority. Unlike some others here, he was quiet and efficient and genuinely enjoyed the role he played in organizing the lives of the dead. He waved one hand, urging on a soul. "You're next, sir. Move along."
The soul floated past him easily, without protest or any other kind of comment, which was always the preferable way to go. Moved things along faster when a soul did not stop to chat. The office demon filled in various boxes on the page of his clipboard, completing this soul's registration information . . .
"Ahem. Excuse us."
Almost, but not quite startled, the office demon looked up at the sound of the polite voice that had just spoken. What was more surprising than the voice was that the speaker had a body, and so did the person with him. They were obviously both resident souls, judging by the halo over each of their heads. And while he appreciated the courtesy, he had looked down the line just moments ago and he knew that these two were not next. He had seen no souls that still possessed their bodies.
"Look, I'm sorry guys, but no cuts," he informed them. Any other office demon probably would have been annoyed at the presence of these two, but he was a patient one, and endured this intrusion with aplomb. "You'll have to go to the back of the line and wait until Lord Enma is ready to see you."
"Um, yeah . . ." the speaker, a small bald fellow, with incense burns on his head and dressed in a suit of strange-looking armour, began. His tone was still polite, but while it was hesitant, it also contained a bit of an edge. "But this would probably qualify as a special case."
Now, the office demon was annoyed. He gave these two his best frown, and put his hands on his hips. "Yes, it's always a special case. I hear that one a lot. It never works, boys, so I suggest that you –"
"Oh, but I think we are, sir," the other figure finally spoke. This one was an elderly man, the lower half of his face mostly obscured by a bushy white moustache and matching beard. "Word of us has reached here, I would imagine? We're the two escapees from the Relegation Room."
"I don't . . . What?" The office demon blinked in shock. These were the fugitives that had broken loose several weeks ago? Come to think of it, they did match the descriptions. But what were they doing here? Could they have finally decided that being on the run for eternity wasn't worth it and turned themselves in? Depending on how someone looked at it, this was either a very brave or a very stupid action. His bets were on the latter.
But still, they were here, and it was his job to organize the souls before they got into Judgement. "I . . . I see. The two of you wait right here. I will speak to Lord Enma and find out whether or not he is ready to see you."
He turned, and forced his legs to hurry into the admissions building. Regardless of the fact that the two fugitives turning themselves in was good news, Lord Enma was sure to be in a mood about this.
He just prayed that the lord of the dead wouldn't kill the messenger.
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Kuririn cringed when he heard the shouting going on inside the building just ahead of them. Not that he was feeling good about his impending Judgement before, but this took the confidence down an extra notch.
He spared a glance at Gohan Senior as the office demon that they had approached exited the building, normally slicked hair looking mussed, and horn rimmed glasses hanging halfway off his face. Shaken up by all that shouting, Kuririn assumed. He couldn't blame him.
"Lord Enma will see you two, now," the office demon said weakly, voice hoarse. "But you'd better hurry; he's in a mood and hates to be kept waiting."
With a deep breath, Kuririn screwed up his courage and took a step forward. He could sense Gohan Senior moving right alongside him. They passed by the line of wisps, of souls, some of whom chattered in confusion. But while he noticed this, his thoughts were not on them. They remained solely focused on Judgement. First on Gohan Senior's, and then on his own.
He was in so much trouble.
The inside of this building was far more imposing than the last one he had been to in Otherworld. It was wide, with an impressively high ceiling, while ornate tapestries decorated the walls in colours of red, gold, and green. And though these features were striking, they could not compare to what sat at the room's very centre.
Even on its own, the gigantic desk would have been quite the sight to see. Upon it were high stacks of papers, a phone that had to be at least two and a half times Kuririn's height, and what was perhaps the mother of all computers. But these were not what made Kuririn gulp. No, that would be the occupant of the desk. He was a tall, broad demon with crimson skin and horns sticking out of either side of his head. The thick black beard on his face and the navy blue suit that he wore bespoke that this guy meant business. The plaque on the desk read "The Honourable Enma", leaving no doubt who this particular demon was.
This was Enma, the lord and judge of the dead.
"Well, I'm surprised that the two of you had the nerve to show up here!" Lord Enma bellowed, his voice shaking the room to its foundations. Kuririn fought the urge to cover his ears. He had the distinct impression that doing so would only prompt the huge demon to shout even louder. Not exactly something that he had the great desire to hear.
The room stopped shaking, and Kuririn felt compelled to say something. "Uh, I guess we figured that it was the right thing to do over all the trouble we've caused, sir. But before you pass Judgement, I just want to say that –"
"Quiet," Lord Enma cut in smoothly. He did not raise his voice; he didn't have to in this case, and seemed to be quite aware of that fact. "Why don't we just save the excuses for after we've run down everything that you've pulled since you've been here."
Kuririn swallowed, but nodded. He wasn't about to go and defy the lord of the dead. At least no more than he already had, considering his actions here in the afterlife.
Lord Enma punched a few keys on his huge computer. "Let's see here. Breaking out of the Relegation Room . . ."
Kuririn bowed his head at this.
"Stealing two pieces of my sacred fruit from its tree in Hell . . ."
Out of the corner of his eye, Kuririn saw Gohan Senior stiffen at this, and glance about the room in an attempt to avoid eye contact with anyone.
"Resisting capture and subsequently inflicting severe injury on an enforcer."
Kuririn laughed nervously. That certainly seemed like quite the list of crimes. Part of him wondered just how Lord Enma had acquired some of this information, but that really didn't strike him as being very important. He had doomed himself for sure. Him and his plans.
"So," Lord Enma turned, and calmly rested his chin on one huge fist. His face wore an almost wicked smirk. "Are you ready to make your excuses, yet?"
"Um . . . Heh, heh, heh," Kuririn rubbed at the back of his head, hating the nervous little laugh that had escaped him. It probably wasn't going to help his case. "Well, sir, I just want to say that all of this is utterly and completely my fault. I forced Gohan to come with me. He didn't do anything wrong."
Lord Enma frowned, and cast a glance over to Gohan Senior. "Is this true? Were you forced into this scheme against your will?"
The question seemed to give Gohan Senior pause. "Yes, sir, technically it is. But I think that –"
"So it looks like kidnapping can get added to Kuririn's list of crimes, then." Lord Enma's stare landed on Kuririn again, taking on a darker edge than it had radiated previously. "This is quite the record that you've assembled for yourself, boy. But be thankful that it's not your turn yet. I'll deal with you in a minute."
In a strange simultaneous pair of actions, Kuririn sighed in relief and blinked in confusion. Not his turn yet? So Lord Enma had decided that he would deal with Gohan Senior first. He wasn't quite sure whether this was a good thing or not, but he supposed that he would prefer things this way after all. It meant that he would get to know the old man's fate before being consigned to his own. Which was sure to be quite terrible, in light of everything.
"Now. Son Gohan. Your case had come up for Judgement a few weeks ago . . . "
Kuririn slapped his forehead. He had just spent all this time rescuing a guy who didn't need rescuing in the first place. Just another one of his bright moves, this one.
" . . . and this is when you and Kuririn were discovered to be missing," Lord Enma continued. "Normally, any escape attempt is grounds for a very severe punishment, but since it has been confirmed that you were acting under duress . . ."
Hope leapt up in Kuririn's throat. Lord Enma was going to let Gohan Senior off. He could feel it. Kuririn had not felt this reassured since a few moments before his death.
"Thus it is my decision that your fate be the same as if you had never left relegation." A strange half smile, half grimace came upon Lord Enma's face. "Which means that you're headed up to Heaven. Lucky you."
This brought a smile to Kuririn's face, and the relief that swept through his stomach was almost palpable. He was so overwhelmed by this that he almost missed what happened next.
A pudgy blue office demon entered the room and put a hand on Gohan Senior's shoulder. "Come along, now. I'll escort you to your transportation."
But to Kuririn's surprise, Gohan Senior jerked away from the office demon's hold. The old man's face was as stern and determined as he had ever seen it. "Not yet. I'll not leave until I learn of my companion's fate."
Kuririn might have been touched by this, save for the fact that the new office demon and Lord Enma did not look very happy at this statement. Stunned into silence, he waited for the disagreement to break out.
Lord Enma sighed angrily, a breath of air that knocked every person in the room flat on their backs. "Mortals. But in light of the fact that you've done nothing wrong in this, and the fact that I'm already sick of this case and want it over with, I'll let you stay. But not for one second past his sentencing. And no protesting."
Shocked – this seemed to go against the huge demon's temperament – Kuririn climbed to his feet just as Gohan Senior nodded. His face paled as Lord Enma fixed a glare on him, grabbing a sheaf of paper from one side of his desk. Kuririn figured that this must be his file; perhaps his escape from the Relegation Room had made the search for his files more urgent and far shorter than the seventy or eighty years that a particular office demon had told him it may have taken.
"So," Lord Enma began, flipping through the file's pages. "Let's figure out exactly what I'm going to do with you."
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And as Kuririn's life and afterlife began their review, something of marked significance was happening on another plane.
Black clouds rolled menacingly over a once blue sky, seemingly out of nowhere. These clouds were not storm summoned, or they could not be classified that by anyone who believed a weatherman. And since very few people did such – and rightly so – very few people found this to be a strange occurrence. That it happened so quickly caused the occasional eyebrow to lift in curiosity, but not the fact that it had happened at all.
Of course, the huge, monstrous, creature that appeared in the sky once the clouds had settled in place was a little tougher for people to explain. Some stared in awe. Some screamed. And still others braced themselves for a horrible catastrophe, for what else could a creature such as this portend?
But these varying states only lasted for a few moments, stopped by the words coming out of a megaphone. Nothing at all to worry about. Just some experimental work being done on the Capsule Corporation grounds. Such was not an uncommon thing in this city, so the residents relaxed upon hearing this news. A few people commented on the impressiveness of the work, while others commented on the Briefs family's sanity, or lack thereof. Either way, the explanation was all they had needed, and their lives instantly returned to normal.
Normal save for the people at this enormous creature's base, the only ones who truly knew what was going on. No, their lives were not back to normal yet, but they were working on that at this very moment.
A child with green skin and antennae spoke a few words to the creature. In response, the creature's eyes glowed red, and then it spoke itself. And the people at its base were stunned by its words.
But the stunned feelings were mixed with joy, and once more the tiny green child spoke to the creature. With a nod of affirmation, the creature focused its power to do what it had been bidden . . .
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It wasn't often that Lord Enma got to see the face of someone who feared his impending fate. Oh, many who came to him feared their fates, to be sure, but most of them had been stripped of their bodies. No bodies meant no faces, and a greater difficulty to detect fear.
But this one, Kuririn, had a face, and it was afraid. Something that Lord Enma got an honest kick out of. It was fun to freak someone out every now and again. And he would like to do more to this one than make him afraid. He would like to deprive him of his body and send him into the depths of Hell for the whole fiasco that he had perpetrated here in Otherworld.
The only problem was that he might not be able to. While Kuririn had been ill behaved in this world, his file showed that his life worked in his favour. He had done a lot of good, which made this decision rather difficult. Lord Enma frowned; sometimes he hated having to be impartial.
But his job was his job, and this case had already frayed his nerves too much. His decision would be quick and final, thus freeing him from having to see this irritating mortal ever again.
He closed the file, and folded his hands on his desk. Always best to look proper and official. "I've come to a decision. Kuririn, you are hereby . . ."
His lips stopped as the small form of Kuririn wavered in front of him. The tiny human looked rather befuddled for his part, and stared down at his hands in confusion. And just as Kuririn wavered, he soon vanished from sight altogether.
All was quiet for a moment. The other human, Son Gohan, was rooted to the spot, staring at the place where his companion had once stood. Even the office demon beside him looked on with a puzzled expression on his face. Neither seemed to know what had just happened.
Lord Enma did, however. He had seen enough resurrections to recognize one when he saw it. And he could easily guess just what the instrument of resurrection was.
"Stupid Dragonballs," he muttered irritably, wishing that he could have at least stated Kuririn's sentence. He cast an annoyed look at Son Gohan and the office demon, who still had not moved. "Well, what are you two waiting for? You've got an assignment, so get out of my sight!"
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When the world had begun to waver around him, and he had looked down to see his hands fading, Kuririn was very afraid that his body was being taken from him and that this was the beginning of a horrible punishment. But confusion replaced fear when he found himself with his body still intact and in an entirely new location. And the sky around him was completely black. So much so that it reminded him of . . .
"Kuririn! You're back!"
He didn't even have time to register shock as a young child rushed up to him and wrapped him in a bone-crushing hug. Before he took the time to breathe, he determined who was squeezing him with such force. Gohan. Not the old man with whom he had spent the past several weeks, but the five- year-old whom he had last seen in dire peril on Nameksei. What in the world . . .
He reached up and tapped the boy on the shoulder. "Um . . . hey, Gohan; I need to breathe."
"Oh!" The boy pulled back, flushing a little in embarrassment but at the same time grinning wildly. "I'm sorry. I was just so happy . . ."
Kuririn looked around in disbelief at what he saw. Bulma and her parents. ChiChi. Muten Roshi, and even Oolong and Puar. And strangely enough, he also found Dende and several dozen other Namekseijin standing right in front of him.
While the sight before him did not much clear up Kuririn's confusion, the sight behind him did. He turned to find a massive green creature, looking more like an overgrown and over-muscled salamander than anything else. But that was not what it was, of course. Kuririn had seen this creature before.
Porunga, the Namekian dragon.
The upshot of all of this was that he must have been returned to life. He put his hand over his chest to make certain, and sure enough a heart beat under his fingers. Somehow, every one had survived – or been resurrected, in the case of Dende and the other Namekseijin – and had made new wishes. And judging from most of the company, this was Earth.
Muten Roshi calmly walked over to him, his cane lightly tapping the ground at each step. "So, Kuririn, my boy, how did the afterlife treat you this time around?" asked the old master, obviously in a good temper. He laid a hand on Kuririn's shoulder.
Kuririn glanced up at Porunga once again. His mind travelled back to Otherworld, where Gohan Senior must be very confused by now. They had been through their fair share of strangeness together in these last few weeks, and the old man was likely to be scratching his head at this one for a good long while. At least he would be doing so in Heaven.
"Kuririn?" Muten Roshi's hand shook his shoulder. Behind him, Kuririn could hear the group making plans to resurrect Yamucha. "What happened?"
With a smile, Kuririn turned back to Porunga. He didn't want to miss Yamucha's rebirth if he could help it.
As Dende began translating the wish into the Namekseijin language, Kuririn responded. "Treated me well enough, I guess. Not really that much to say about it."
It was often said that dead men told no tales. Perhaps, Kuririn reflected, it was simply because they were too bizarre to relate.
CHAPTER TEN: Lord and Judge
It was not as busy as normal around the admissions building. Death had apparently decided to have a light duty work day, which suited the office demons and their boss just fine. While Lord Enma would insist that he enjoyed his job and wouldn't mind if things remained relentlessly busy, all knew that it was a lie. Oh, Lord Enma enjoyed his job, to be sure, but even he liked to have a little free time, once in a while. It was good for improving his ping-pong game.
"Okay, let's keep things moving," an office demon said with bored authority. Unlike some others here, he was quiet and efficient and genuinely enjoyed the role he played in organizing the lives of the dead. He waved one hand, urging on a soul. "You're next, sir. Move along."
The soul floated past him easily, without protest or any other kind of comment, which was always the preferable way to go. Moved things along faster when a soul did not stop to chat. The office demon filled in various boxes on the page of his clipboard, completing this soul's registration information . . .
"Ahem. Excuse us."
Almost, but not quite startled, the office demon looked up at the sound of the polite voice that had just spoken. What was more surprising than the voice was that the speaker had a body, and so did the person with him. They were obviously both resident souls, judging by the halo over each of their heads. And while he appreciated the courtesy, he had looked down the line just moments ago and he knew that these two were not next. He had seen no souls that still possessed their bodies.
"Look, I'm sorry guys, but no cuts," he informed them. Any other office demon probably would have been annoyed at the presence of these two, but he was a patient one, and endured this intrusion with aplomb. "You'll have to go to the back of the line and wait until Lord Enma is ready to see you."
"Um, yeah . . ." the speaker, a small bald fellow, with incense burns on his head and dressed in a suit of strange-looking armour, began. His tone was still polite, but while it was hesitant, it also contained a bit of an edge. "But this would probably qualify as a special case."
Now, the office demon was annoyed. He gave these two his best frown, and put his hands on his hips. "Yes, it's always a special case. I hear that one a lot. It never works, boys, so I suggest that you –"
"Oh, but I think we are, sir," the other figure finally spoke. This one was an elderly man, the lower half of his face mostly obscured by a bushy white moustache and matching beard. "Word of us has reached here, I would imagine? We're the two escapees from the Relegation Room."
"I don't . . . What?" The office demon blinked in shock. These were the fugitives that had broken loose several weeks ago? Come to think of it, they did match the descriptions. But what were they doing here? Could they have finally decided that being on the run for eternity wasn't worth it and turned themselves in? Depending on how someone looked at it, this was either a very brave or a very stupid action. His bets were on the latter.
But still, they were here, and it was his job to organize the souls before they got into Judgement. "I . . . I see. The two of you wait right here. I will speak to Lord Enma and find out whether or not he is ready to see you."
He turned, and forced his legs to hurry into the admissions building. Regardless of the fact that the two fugitives turning themselves in was good news, Lord Enma was sure to be in a mood about this.
He just prayed that the lord of the dead wouldn't kill the messenger.
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Kuririn cringed when he heard the shouting going on inside the building just ahead of them. Not that he was feeling good about his impending Judgement before, but this took the confidence down an extra notch.
He spared a glance at Gohan Senior as the office demon that they had approached exited the building, normally slicked hair looking mussed, and horn rimmed glasses hanging halfway off his face. Shaken up by all that shouting, Kuririn assumed. He couldn't blame him.
"Lord Enma will see you two, now," the office demon said weakly, voice hoarse. "But you'd better hurry; he's in a mood and hates to be kept waiting."
With a deep breath, Kuririn screwed up his courage and took a step forward. He could sense Gohan Senior moving right alongside him. They passed by the line of wisps, of souls, some of whom chattered in confusion. But while he noticed this, his thoughts were not on them. They remained solely focused on Judgement. First on Gohan Senior's, and then on his own.
He was in so much trouble.
The inside of this building was far more imposing than the last one he had been to in Otherworld. It was wide, with an impressively high ceiling, while ornate tapestries decorated the walls in colours of red, gold, and green. And though these features were striking, they could not compare to what sat at the room's very centre.
Even on its own, the gigantic desk would have been quite the sight to see. Upon it were high stacks of papers, a phone that had to be at least two and a half times Kuririn's height, and what was perhaps the mother of all computers. But these were not what made Kuririn gulp. No, that would be the occupant of the desk. He was a tall, broad demon with crimson skin and horns sticking out of either side of his head. The thick black beard on his face and the navy blue suit that he wore bespoke that this guy meant business. The plaque on the desk read "The Honourable Enma", leaving no doubt who this particular demon was.
This was Enma, the lord and judge of the dead.
"Well, I'm surprised that the two of you had the nerve to show up here!" Lord Enma bellowed, his voice shaking the room to its foundations. Kuririn fought the urge to cover his ears. He had the distinct impression that doing so would only prompt the huge demon to shout even louder. Not exactly something that he had the great desire to hear.
The room stopped shaking, and Kuririn felt compelled to say something. "Uh, I guess we figured that it was the right thing to do over all the trouble we've caused, sir. But before you pass Judgement, I just want to say that –"
"Quiet," Lord Enma cut in smoothly. He did not raise his voice; he didn't have to in this case, and seemed to be quite aware of that fact. "Why don't we just save the excuses for after we've run down everything that you've pulled since you've been here."
Kuririn swallowed, but nodded. He wasn't about to go and defy the lord of the dead. At least no more than he already had, considering his actions here in the afterlife.
Lord Enma punched a few keys on his huge computer. "Let's see here. Breaking out of the Relegation Room . . ."
Kuririn bowed his head at this.
"Stealing two pieces of my sacred fruit from its tree in Hell . . ."
Out of the corner of his eye, Kuririn saw Gohan Senior stiffen at this, and glance about the room in an attempt to avoid eye contact with anyone.
"Resisting capture and subsequently inflicting severe injury on an enforcer."
Kuririn laughed nervously. That certainly seemed like quite the list of crimes. Part of him wondered just how Lord Enma had acquired some of this information, but that really didn't strike him as being very important. He had doomed himself for sure. Him and his plans.
"So," Lord Enma turned, and calmly rested his chin on one huge fist. His face wore an almost wicked smirk. "Are you ready to make your excuses, yet?"
"Um . . . Heh, heh, heh," Kuririn rubbed at the back of his head, hating the nervous little laugh that had escaped him. It probably wasn't going to help his case. "Well, sir, I just want to say that all of this is utterly and completely my fault. I forced Gohan to come with me. He didn't do anything wrong."
Lord Enma frowned, and cast a glance over to Gohan Senior. "Is this true? Were you forced into this scheme against your will?"
The question seemed to give Gohan Senior pause. "Yes, sir, technically it is. But I think that –"
"So it looks like kidnapping can get added to Kuririn's list of crimes, then." Lord Enma's stare landed on Kuririn again, taking on a darker edge than it had radiated previously. "This is quite the record that you've assembled for yourself, boy. But be thankful that it's not your turn yet. I'll deal with you in a minute."
In a strange simultaneous pair of actions, Kuririn sighed in relief and blinked in confusion. Not his turn yet? So Lord Enma had decided that he would deal with Gohan Senior first. He wasn't quite sure whether this was a good thing or not, but he supposed that he would prefer things this way after all. It meant that he would get to know the old man's fate before being consigned to his own. Which was sure to be quite terrible, in light of everything.
"Now. Son Gohan. Your case had come up for Judgement a few weeks ago . . . "
Kuririn slapped his forehead. He had just spent all this time rescuing a guy who didn't need rescuing in the first place. Just another one of his bright moves, this one.
" . . . and this is when you and Kuririn were discovered to be missing," Lord Enma continued. "Normally, any escape attempt is grounds for a very severe punishment, but since it has been confirmed that you were acting under duress . . ."
Hope leapt up in Kuririn's throat. Lord Enma was going to let Gohan Senior off. He could feel it. Kuririn had not felt this reassured since a few moments before his death.
"Thus it is my decision that your fate be the same as if you had never left relegation." A strange half smile, half grimace came upon Lord Enma's face. "Which means that you're headed up to Heaven. Lucky you."
This brought a smile to Kuririn's face, and the relief that swept through his stomach was almost palpable. He was so overwhelmed by this that he almost missed what happened next.
A pudgy blue office demon entered the room and put a hand on Gohan Senior's shoulder. "Come along, now. I'll escort you to your transportation."
But to Kuririn's surprise, Gohan Senior jerked away from the office demon's hold. The old man's face was as stern and determined as he had ever seen it. "Not yet. I'll not leave until I learn of my companion's fate."
Kuririn might have been touched by this, save for the fact that the new office demon and Lord Enma did not look very happy at this statement. Stunned into silence, he waited for the disagreement to break out.
Lord Enma sighed angrily, a breath of air that knocked every person in the room flat on their backs. "Mortals. But in light of the fact that you've done nothing wrong in this, and the fact that I'm already sick of this case and want it over with, I'll let you stay. But not for one second past his sentencing. And no protesting."
Shocked – this seemed to go against the huge demon's temperament – Kuririn climbed to his feet just as Gohan Senior nodded. His face paled as Lord Enma fixed a glare on him, grabbing a sheaf of paper from one side of his desk. Kuririn figured that this must be his file; perhaps his escape from the Relegation Room had made the search for his files more urgent and far shorter than the seventy or eighty years that a particular office demon had told him it may have taken.
"So," Lord Enma began, flipping through the file's pages. "Let's figure out exactly what I'm going to do with you."
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And as Kuririn's life and afterlife began their review, something of marked significance was happening on another plane.
Black clouds rolled menacingly over a once blue sky, seemingly out of nowhere. These clouds were not storm summoned, or they could not be classified that by anyone who believed a weatherman. And since very few people did such – and rightly so – very few people found this to be a strange occurrence. That it happened so quickly caused the occasional eyebrow to lift in curiosity, but not the fact that it had happened at all.
Of course, the huge, monstrous, creature that appeared in the sky once the clouds had settled in place was a little tougher for people to explain. Some stared in awe. Some screamed. And still others braced themselves for a horrible catastrophe, for what else could a creature such as this portend?
But these varying states only lasted for a few moments, stopped by the words coming out of a megaphone. Nothing at all to worry about. Just some experimental work being done on the Capsule Corporation grounds. Such was not an uncommon thing in this city, so the residents relaxed upon hearing this news. A few people commented on the impressiveness of the work, while others commented on the Briefs family's sanity, or lack thereof. Either way, the explanation was all they had needed, and their lives instantly returned to normal.
Normal save for the people at this enormous creature's base, the only ones who truly knew what was going on. No, their lives were not back to normal yet, but they were working on that at this very moment.
A child with green skin and antennae spoke a few words to the creature. In response, the creature's eyes glowed red, and then it spoke itself. And the people at its base were stunned by its words.
But the stunned feelings were mixed with joy, and once more the tiny green child spoke to the creature. With a nod of affirmation, the creature focused its power to do what it had been bidden . . .
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It wasn't often that Lord Enma got to see the face of someone who feared his impending fate. Oh, many who came to him feared their fates, to be sure, but most of them had been stripped of their bodies. No bodies meant no faces, and a greater difficulty to detect fear.
But this one, Kuririn, had a face, and it was afraid. Something that Lord Enma got an honest kick out of. It was fun to freak someone out every now and again. And he would like to do more to this one than make him afraid. He would like to deprive him of his body and send him into the depths of Hell for the whole fiasco that he had perpetrated here in Otherworld.
The only problem was that he might not be able to. While Kuririn had been ill behaved in this world, his file showed that his life worked in his favour. He had done a lot of good, which made this decision rather difficult. Lord Enma frowned; sometimes he hated having to be impartial.
But his job was his job, and this case had already frayed his nerves too much. His decision would be quick and final, thus freeing him from having to see this irritating mortal ever again.
He closed the file, and folded his hands on his desk. Always best to look proper and official. "I've come to a decision. Kuririn, you are hereby . . ."
His lips stopped as the small form of Kuririn wavered in front of him. The tiny human looked rather befuddled for his part, and stared down at his hands in confusion. And just as Kuririn wavered, he soon vanished from sight altogether.
All was quiet for a moment. The other human, Son Gohan, was rooted to the spot, staring at the place where his companion had once stood. Even the office demon beside him looked on with a puzzled expression on his face. Neither seemed to know what had just happened.
Lord Enma did, however. He had seen enough resurrections to recognize one when he saw it. And he could easily guess just what the instrument of resurrection was.
"Stupid Dragonballs," he muttered irritably, wishing that he could have at least stated Kuririn's sentence. He cast an annoyed look at Son Gohan and the office demon, who still had not moved. "Well, what are you two waiting for? You've got an assignment, so get out of my sight!"
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When the world had begun to waver around him, and he had looked down to see his hands fading, Kuririn was very afraid that his body was being taken from him and that this was the beginning of a horrible punishment. But confusion replaced fear when he found himself with his body still intact and in an entirely new location. And the sky around him was completely black. So much so that it reminded him of . . .
"Kuririn! You're back!"
He didn't even have time to register shock as a young child rushed up to him and wrapped him in a bone-crushing hug. Before he took the time to breathe, he determined who was squeezing him with such force. Gohan. Not the old man with whom he had spent the past several weeks, but the five- year-old whom he had last seen in dire peril on Nameksei. What in the world . . .
He reached up and tapped the boy on the shoulder. "Um . . . hey, Gohan; I need to breathe."
"Oh!" The boy pulled back, flushing a little in embarrassment but at the same time grinning wildly. "I'm sorry. I was just so happy . . ."
Kuririn looked around in disbelief at what he saw. Bulma and her parents. ChiChi. Muten Roshi, and even Oolong and Puar. And strangely enough, he also found Dende and several dozen other Namekseijin standing right in front of him.
While the sight before him did not much clear up Kuririn's confusion, the sight behind him did. He turned to find a massive green creature, looking more like an overgrown and over-muscled salamander than anything else. But that was not what it was, of course. Kuririn had seen this creature before.
Porunga, the Namekian dragon.
The upshot of all of this was that he must have been returned to life. He put his hand over his chest to make certain, and sure enough a heart beat under his fingers. Somehow, every one had survived – or been resurrected, in the case of Dende and the other Namekseijin – and had made new wishes. And judging from most of the company, this was Earth.
Muten Roshi calmly walked over to him, his cane lightly tapping the ground at each step. "So, Kuririn, my boy, how did the afterlife treat you this time around?" asked the old master, obviously in a good temper. He laid a hand on Kuririn's shoulder.
Kuririn glanced up at Porunga once again. His mind travelled back to Otherworld, where Gohan Senior must be very confused by now. They had been through their fair share of strangeness together in these last few weeks, and the old man was likely to be scratching his head at this one for a good long while. At least he would be doing so in Heaven.
"Kuririn?" Muten Roshi's hand shook his shoulder. Behind him, Kuririn could hear the group making plans to resurrect Yamucha. "What happened?"
With a smile, Kuririn turned back to Porunga. He didn't want to miss Yamucha's rebirth if he could help it.
As Dende began translating the wish into the Namekseijin language, Kuririn responded. "Treated me well enough, I guess. Not really that much to say about it."
It was often said that dead men told no tales. Perhaps, Kuririn reflected, it was simply because they were too bizarre to relate.