Inversion of Shadows
BOOK ONE, CHAPTER FIVE

Chaozu kept himself perched upon a treetop, where he would be away from the coming melee yet still able to see it. His hands were outstretched, eyes partially closed and his mind was focused upon the one presence there that he could not see – by far the most dangerous one.

It was an attack that he didn't particularly like to use, but in this situation he felt like he had little other option. The strike had to be a threatening enough one that the psychic binding Tenshinhan would be forced to abandon the paralysis to defend itself. Either that, or it would die. In any case, the paralysis would be effectively nullified and Tenshinhan could easily dispose of the other threats.

He jabbed outward with his mind, focus centred upon the unseen creature's heart. A sudden rush of anxiety flowed from the creature's thoughts and for a moment Chaozu thought that he might end up killing this thing after all . . . but there was a sudden push against his power. He didn't do much to strengthen it, since he would prefer not to kill; however, he did pour a little extra effort into the attack to ensure that it was not fully repelled.

This duel would be challenging for him, though he did not expect it to last very long. He had done what he had come here to do and likely all dangers would be absent within a matter of minutes.


The invisible bonds around his body vanished in a sudden rush, and he needed no time to adjust to his newly rediscovered ability to move. Tenshinhan smoothly dodged to the side as one of the creatures came after him, slamming his elbow into its back as it passed him.

Another came screaming at him from behind, but without even turning to look he shot his leg backward and caught it full in the face. There was no visible tenseness in his body, no outward indication of worry or strain. And none of the other creatures had deigned to attack him.

But that did not change their previous intent. Whatever else they were, they were still a threat and could not be permitted to live.

He sensed the next attack coming for his leg, and swiftly raised it to then smash it down upon the creature's body. Most of the assaults were coming from his back and sides and only the initial one had come from the front. Just as in his old training, these beings relied upon stealth and sneak attacks to be effective. He imagined that this was the only way that they could be if they regularly came into contact with warriors; they used this to even the playing field in regard to their lack of overall strength.

He'd spent too much time at this though. It would only be proper thing to give them a quick send off.

How he was lucky enough to find the remaining ones practically in a line formation, he did not know. The formation was most foolish, for it meant that he could conceivably take them all out with a single strike. So much the better.

He hadn't used this attack in some time – and in fact had rarely used it even back in the earlier stages of his life. He'd been so far above all of his opponents that he had not thought to bother with it, and when he did finally come upon a worthy one, he was forced to use more powerful manoeuvres. But it would do well enough here.

Tenshinhan extended the first two fingers on his hand and thrust them in the direction of the line of creatures. "Dodonpa!"

A thin beam of rose coloured ki shot forth from his fingers, quietly sizzling through the air. And not only through the air; though at least one of the creatures had looked up in time to see the move it had no time to dodge. It, like all the others, was pierced clean through with the beam. With old assassin's instincts Tenshinhan had fired it at such an angle as to catch either the hearts or lungs. The aim proved to be true, as all of the creatures dropped to the ground and that odd sort of non-ki that they had dwindled to nothing.

He was not one to celebrate or gloat over the bodies of fallen enemies and this time was no exception in the least. Especially since there had to be another one out there, the one that had paralyzed him.

Before he could even begin trying to discern its location he heard a sharp, almost childlike cry from above. But that was not the voice of a child despite its high pitch. No, he knew the owner of that voice.

And this knowledge was confirmed as Chaozu dropped into his arms.


He'd never felt anything so overpowering. In many ways, he could count himself lucky since this was only a push of solid psychic energy against him, not focused into any true attack. An attack at this level of power would have destroyed him unless he'd had his own defenses up on high alert – and even then it probably would have caused quite a bit of damage.

But in other ways, he was not so lucky. The push came upon him so suddenly that he lost his concentration, ending his own assault and he did not have the time to refocus his power into a defense; the backlash hit him with its full force. It came almost like a physical blow, and knocked him from the tree.

However, he did not hit the ground. Rather than the hard, unforgiving forest floor, he found himself cradled in arms that would have been large even were he a normal-sized man. He'd been caught like this on several occasions before and he needed no time to recognize just who held him.

Tenshinhan looked down at him, all three eyes wide in concern. "Chaozu, are you all right? What happened?"

Chaozu lay still for a moment. Though there was no shock from the fall that he had just endured, his head still throbbed from the backlash and it took a little time for it to clear to any noticeable degree. He levitated himself before answering. "I'm okay, Ten-san. It was that other psychic . . ."

The frown that had once been worry on Tenshinhan's face now turned to anger. "Yeah, I knew there was one out there. Thanks for the help, by the way. Can you tell which way it is?"

Relaxing his posture, Chaozu closed his eyes. The presence was not difficult to pick up on, nor was it far from their current position. After a few seconds, he opened his eyes again and pointed. "It's that way, and not far."

Before he could even lower his finger Tenshinhan was off following its direction. It was just like him to do something like that – he didn't want to put him at risk. A nice thought, and one that he usually appreciated, but Chaozu did still know how to handle himself and thus took off after his friend.

While he was not as fast as Tenshinhan, his small size enabled him to weave tightly through the trees and he caught up to him in only seconds, just in time to burst into the clearing from which he had detected the other psychic. Only they found no such creature there.

In point of fact, they found nothing at all. Nothing was here but a small plain of grass with the occasional clump of dirt protruding from it. That and a rapidly shrinking cloud of fog.

"What –" Tenshinhan started, but he could not finish the question. Apparently in an effort to make up for that, he asked a different one instead. "Chaozu, are you sure that it was here?"

"Positive." Chaozu nodded, frowning. He had indeed sensed it here, but now his mind told him nothing. "But I don't sense it now. Not anywhere."

Neither of them said anything more. And Chaozu just hung in the air, curiously regarding the remaining wisps of fog.


His fingers played with one of the larger folds of his clothing, a habit that he'd had since very early on in his life. It was a bad one, as his claws would tear numerous small holes into the fabric. He'd had to replace a lot of clothing because of this, especially since he had come to Earth this time. Being the guardian of a planet was the perfect situation in which a nervous habit could flourish. And it had been more than prolific in recent weeks.

The fact that he knew now that it was a legitimate worry did not help matters . . .

Carefully, he pulled his claw away from where it had snagged his vest. Another hole to go along with the others. He willed himself to dispense with this foolish action and it worked for all of three seconds before his hand was once again chewing away at his garments. Oh, well. Replacing them really was a small matter, one that he could worry about later. The current matter was far more pressing, if only they could get to it.

"Can't we discuss this yet?" he blurted out, then barely resisting the urge to cover his mouth in surprise. This kind of impatience was most rude and rather out of character for him. His nerves, though, were frayed and he at least needed to be able to understand what was happening. "My apologies, Korin-sama. That was rude of me."

The old white cat merely chuckled a bit. "No need to apologize, Dende. And what's with calling me Korin-sama? That's not necessary – you do sort of outrank me, here."

"Ah . . . Yes." It was all that Dende could say in response. He had rather forgotten about that. Such was an easy thing to slip the mind, as he was still very much a child. For a child to outrank an adult was absolute absurdity in Namekseijin culture, and he never quite got used to things being otherwise. Personally, he was pretty uncomfortable with the whole concept.

"And she ought to be here any minute, so I'd advise you to just relax."

Relax? Dende had never been very good at that, especially in the past few years. He'd spent most of his time either in a life-threatening situation or in mind-numbing boredom. Now it was the stress of watching over an entire planet. The word "relax" was not in Dende's vocabulary.

"Hmph."

The little snort of disgust caught his attention and he looked up to see the pudgy form of Yajirobe leaning up against the guardrail of Korin Tower, where they had all gathered for this discussion. While Dende had gained a measure of comfort around Korin, who had aided him a bit in his duties as the Guardian of Earth, he never felt quite right around Yajirobe. The samurai was something of a dark, cynical character and on the whole Dende preferred to be around people who were a little more optimistic – it was a nice contrast to the way that he was most of the time.

"I don't know why you guys're waiting on her anyway," Yajirobe continued in his naturally rough voice. "Since when do you wait for any human to start these little meetings?"

It did seem strange, in a way. After all, the person that they were waiting upon was not one of Earth's pantheon. She was a normal human – well, maybe not really normal, based on what he'd heard of her, but still a human nonetheless. How important was she to this overall matter that they would wait for her?

The air shimmered in front of him for a second and he jumped back in surprise, caught by the hand of Popo before his back hit the guardrail. As the shimmer faded, Dende could make out a small form, even smaller than that of Korin. Its back was to him, so he could not see its face, but it was dressed in sweeping black robes and a matching pointed hat, under which a mass of purplish hair was visible. And to top it off, this person was riding upon a floating sphere of glass.

"Well, I hope that you didn't start without me," the figure said in an almost crotchety voice that Dende had learned to recognize as female. It was something that had taken a while to get used to, as there was none of this division known as "gender" among his people.

"No, but we were starting to wonder when you would get here, Baba," Korin returned easily, with that smile that seemed eternally at home upon his face.

Baba huffed indignantly and turned – or rather her glass sphere turned, taking her along with it – to face Dende. "Hello, Dende. We should have met a long time ago, but I'm sure that we were both very busy."

"Ah . . . Hello," Dende said shyly. He really didn't know how he was supposed to react around this woman. In some weird way, though she had not been noticeably unpleasant, she made him feel uncomfortable. But now that she was here, he could now learn what he so desperately wanted to know. "I suppose . . . since everyone's here now . . . that we should get on with this."

"I suppose we should." Korin lightly tapped his cane on the floor and cleared his throat as if to call for attention. This was quite the absurd action as far as Dende was concerned, since everyone had turned to look at him before he performed it. "So, they're really back."

"Back?" Dende blurted and didn't make any attempt to cover his mouth this time. His surprise was too great to leave any room for even the thought of an apology. And the words kept coming forth from his mouth, a small torrent in one breath for a quiet person such as himself. "What do you mean 'back'? What are you talking about?"

It seemed like nobody heard him. As if he'd never said anything, Baba responded, "I had my doubts at first, but I'm afraid that it's true. Guess that crotchety old grandmother of mine was right."

"You're really sure?"

Baba frowned – well, more deeply, anyway. "Look, I'm just going by an ancient poem here. I may be old, cat, but I'm not quite that old. Last time they were here was way before I was born."

All Dende could do for the moment was listen to the words being tossed back and forth. He would have liked to have participated in the conversation, but being entirely uninformed of the topic of discussion, he opted to just be a good listener and save his questions for the end.

"The description Dende-sama and I got does fit quite well . . ." a new voice cut in, far smoother than that of the other two. Dende looked up to see Popo's face set in a more sombre look than he had ever seen it before, even just after they'd first received that description from Gohan. "And I have seen these before. They are not before my time."

The tower became quiet at this, almost surreal in comparison to the raised voices that had only seconds ago permeated the air. As if on cue, a gust of wind sprang up, whistling eerily in the silence, softly rustling clothes and fur.

"I've served through the watch of many guardians and have seen many things," Popo continued. He seemed to be aware of all of the attention that he was now getting, and lowered his eyes a bit. "And these are one of those things that I had thought and been glad that the world would never see again."

Dende shuddered, but it wasn't from the cold breeze. No, it was the tone that had insinuated its way into Popo's voice – dark and ominous, making the words themselves even more so. This wasn't fair. He was still new at being this planet's guardian. Only recently had he been getting the hang of performing the every day duties; the last thing that he needed was a crisis. During the last one, he was able to sit back and let the warriors handle it. What if he really had to do something this time?

Even though he feared the answer, he simply had to know. He had to be informed of this situation whether he liked it or not. It was his job. "Um . . . Excuse me, but could someone here please tell me what is going on?"


Kaasan rarely listened to news reports. Often times she would say that her own life was trouble enough and that she spent so much time dealing with it that the troubles of the rest of the world were of no concern to her.

But Gohan knew that she had not turned on the television news on her own decision. She had only done it after a phone call, and from the way she spoke to the other person on the line, he knew that it was from Ojiisan. There was always a little less edge in her tone when she talked to him, probably because he had never worried her almost to the degree of a nervous breakdown like many people in her life did – he hung his head in shame at this thought. After all, he had caused her a great deal of anxiety already in his short lifetime.

Sighing, he lifted his head again and picked a few of the dried dishes out of the sink. He had offered to do the dishes for her tonight, as a penance for not finishing his homework a few days ago. She'd refused at first – he was notorious for accidentally shattering the dishes – but had relented after a few moments. And now that she had gotten that phone call and turned on the news, she wasn't rushing back into the kitchen every thirty seconds to make sure that he hadn't broken anything.

Briefly, he glanced down at the wastebasket, where a few shards of dinnerware glinted softly. At least he'd only broken the one plate this time. It was a new record for him.

Gohan stacked the plates neatly on a shelf in the cupboard then returned to the sink to dig out some silverware. But he frowned at the content of the news report. Even though the living room was halfway across the house he could clearly hear most of the words. A perk of his non-human half, though admittedly he did not like what he was hearing.

And he dropped the silverware at the news of this disturbance's location. Forks and spoons crashed to the floor, clanging together like the percussion section of an orchestra. It had to have been there, of all places.

"Gohan-chan, is everything all right in there?"

He blinked, Kaasan's voice jolting him back into reality. Abruptly, he glanced at the floor and bent down to pick up the fallen silverware. "Yes, Kaasan! Everything's fine! I've got it under control!"

His mind wandered off again as he carefully piled the last few forks into his hands once more. But he wasn't really paying attention to what he was doing.

West Capitol. Granted he would have been concerned of anywhere that had suffered that kind of damage, but he had friends there. Bulma and her family ran Capsule Corporation from that city. And Yamucha played on its pro baseball team. While Yamucha was still a fairly capable fighter and Capsule Corporation had its own defenses – in addition to Vegeta and little Trunks – he just couldn't help worrying about them. Worry was a big part of his life that he had never been able to expel from his mind despite the fact that there hadn't been anything to worry about since . . .

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath; despite the passage of four years, it still bothered him sometimes. Cell. There hadn't been anything to worry about since Cell.

The little shudder within him passed, and he resumed his clean up of the dishes. He would have dearly liked to leave for West Capitol just to make sure that everyone was all right. Sensing ki was not always enough; he wanted to confirm things with his own eyes. But there was no way that Kaasan was going to let him go. She would think that it was too dangerous. From the sounds of the report, the danger had passed, but she was not likely to accept that if it meant his going there.

That worry still gnawed at him, though. So much so that he decided to do something that he rarely had the courage to do. Once he finished putting away the dishes, he took a deep breath and stepped into the living room.

The news channel was still on, though Kaasan was no longer on the telephone. Her body was tense, rigid. Only for a moment, though, before it relaxed into its normal posture.

Gohan swallowed. "Um . . . Kaasan . . . I was wondering if maybe . . ."

Kaasan turned to face him, arms folded confrontationally over her chest. The frown that had gotten so much exercise over the past several years pulled down on her lips full force, and her eyebrows nearly met in the middle of her forehead. It was quite obvious that she knew what he had been about to ask – and substantially more obvious what her answer to that question was. She didn't even have to say anything.

"Uh . . . Never mind," he said, taking a small shuffling step backward. "I think I'll just go and do some extra homework . . ."

As quickly as he could, Gohan turned away from her hard glare and hurried to his room, not even bothering to shut the door behind him. He let free a restrained breath. Well, that had gone about as well as he had expected. It had been the weirdest vain little hope that had prompted him to even try that, anyway; the odds on it were pretty bad. Although . . .

He glanced up at his window; it was finally warm enough consistently to have the window open, and the curtains flapped softly in the gentle breeze. It would still be easy to climb through that window if he wanted to. While he was no longer very small – he had hit his growth spurt about a year and a half ago – he was thinner and leaner now. The added height had slimmed down the breadth that he had possessed as a young child. He could still fit through here.

But he frowned at himself. There he went, thinking of sneaking out again. He'd been getting that horrible impulse ever since he received the wound on his calf which still hadn't healed. And besides . . . Sneaking out to West Capitol was like asking to get caught; there was no way that he could get there and back before Kaasan would come to check on him.

Gohan chewed on his lip, a nervous habit that he had acquired at no specific point in his life. He couldn't just let this whole thing lie anymore. First that strange, seemingly permanent wound on his leg, and now this sudden attack on West Capitol . . . Well, the two things didn't really strike him as being coincidences.

Perhaps that was his answer. A quick check around the nearby woods was something that he might be able to get away with. Those creatures could very well still be out there for all he knew – so adept were they at masking their ki, if it could even be referred to as such, that he couldn't know for sure unless he took a closer inspection.

Decision made, Gohan briefly checked over his shoulder to make sure that Kaasan wasn't coming before trotting over to the open window. He had just placed his foot on the sill and was about to hop out when a surprised voice stopped him.

"Hey, where ya goin', niichan?"

Great. He didn't need this right now. Gohan took a breath to steady his nerves and looked back at Goten, who was standing in the doorway with a confused expression on his face. "I'm not really going anywhere in particular. I'll be back soon, so don't tell Kaasan."

Goten gave him a worried frown. "Niichan, I dunno . . ."

"C'mon. This'll be the last time I ask you to do something like this, okay?"

"Well . . ." Goten furrowed his little brow in thought. After a few seconds, he nodded. "Okay. It's a secret."

Gohan nodded his thanks, and took off out the window before anything more could be said. Just in case Kaasan happened to be looking out any of the other windows, he shot half a mile up into the air to ensure that he would not pass into her line of sight. It wouldn't do at all to be caught before he had even really started.

He didn't fly all that far from the house before he descended again, remembering how close that strange presence had been to his home. His eyes picked out a small clearing in which he could land and he touched down lightly upon the grass. In fact, this looked like the same clearing that he had found Goten in last week – and it probably was. While most clearings would look the same to city folk, those who lived in the woodland areas could fairly readily distinguish one from another by small details. This was as good a place to start as any.

Not that he knew precisely what he was looking for. The creatures themselves, or the signs of their passing . . . Really, he had come here pretty blindly, only out of an impulse to do something, anything at all. Without even a semblance of a plan he didn't quite know what to do. Despite the fact that no one was around he felt an embarrassed flush creep onto his cheeks. This wasn't one of his more intelligent moments. Some scholar he was.

How likely was it that the creatures had stayed here, anyway? How could he know whether or not they were highly nomadic or the type of thing that set down roots, so to speak? By the second, he was feeling like a bigger and bigger idiot. Perhaps he should just go home until he had thought this whole thing through and actually had some vague idea of what he was doing . . .

Something brushed against his senses, suddenly. It was only the smallest bit, like the very tip of a feather tickling his skin. But a year of surviving alone in a desert and years after that of combat had taught him to pay attention to the small things – they may or may not be dangerous on their own, but if they went ignored they could very easily turn into big things. He hadn't lived as long as he had by being ignorant.

The slight rise in his ki was involuntary, beyond even his advanced level of control, which admittedly was probably not as advanced as it used to be. He hadn't really fought for four years, save for the occasional spar with Piccolo-san. Thus he knew for a fact that he wasn't quite as sharp as he used to be. A small thrill in his stomach whispered that maybe he should have kept his skills up a little better.

He was on full alert now, heading with slow, deliberate steps toward that tiny presence that still existed on the edge of his senses. Guardedly, he tried his voice. "What's out there? I know you're here."

The funny thing was, he wasn't quite sure whether or not he really wanted an answer.


The creature watched carefully, waiting for the owner of the voice to become visible. All it could hear now was the lightest of steps upon the forest floor. Were it unable to sense ki, it might have deceived itself into thinking that the figure was heading away from it, no longer in its proximity. But no. The figure was most certainly getting closer.

The creature was not alone; rarely did its kind travel singly. This was a measure of comfort to it, for the figure that was approaching was most certainly a target – and a familiar one at that, one that they had already disabled. Or so they had thought, anyway. The level of ki that radiated from the target made the creature wonder whether the venom in its kind's claws had produced any real effect. It was still unnervingly powerful – powerful enough to still wipe them out completely with little effort. Needless to say, this was not an encouraging sign.

When was their yashoku going to get back? They couldn't deal with this target now even though they had presumably weakened him. It was obvious even to the weakest of minds that they needed those reinforcements, and quickly. What if this target found them first?

One of the others quietly jabbered something at it and it very nearly let out a breath of relief. A quick glance over its shoulder indicated the presence of a slowly growing cloud of fog, solidifying even as it formed. Well, it was about time. It was entirely possible that they had been on the verge of being slaughtered. Now, they at least had a better shot at getting through this mission alive.

Thus reassured, even if only a little, the creature turned back to the target – he had finally come into full view, halting in his steps as though he could detect their presence. Though it was a little dry in the throat, the creature did manage a smile; new presences poured through the fog, ones far more powerful than any of them.

Things would be so much easier after this target was eliminated.