For those of you who might know who I am through that little "For Life" stint I did a few weeks back, you might be interested to know that the requested continuation of that short is in the making. However, after an interesting conversation with a fellow otaku, I got a wonderful multi-chapter story idea. So what was to be just another short has turned into something not so short. But it'll be worth it, trust me. For now, though, think of this story as a prologue of things to come.
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Beyond The Cloudy Dawn
By Phoenix Cubed
Chapter 2
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The sun rose brightly over the horizon the next morning, determined to thwart the perpetual cloudy mood that hung over mankind's consciousness. Gohan tied the waste band snugly about his dark orange Gi, freshly laundered and pressed by his mother. He wondered if it was at all odd that he, at an age to be legal in nearly every country in the world, should still be relying heavily on his mom for clean clothes to wear.
Not that he had time to do laundry.
Shuffling down the stairs, Gohan passed through the kitchen to inform his mother that he was on his way out. Disregarding the inviting array of breakfast items displayed on the table, Gohan fished about the fridge for a bottle of juice and quickly chugged it down. His actions caught the attention of Chi Chi, who turned from her attentions at the sink to reprimand her son.
"Gohan!" She cried, swatting him lightly on the shoulder, "you know better than that!"
"Sorry mom," Gohan managed to look sheepish. "At least its empty, though." He told her, jiggling the bottle a bit to emphasize his excuse.
Chi Chi rolled her eyes and took the bottle from his hands and put it in the disposal. Turning back to him, she looked her son over with a critical eye, then pressed a package of meat crepes into his objecting hands. "Those will be gone before you come back, Gohan," she informed him. Then she also handed him a basket laden with food. "For Trunks," she said, an indirect command to drop by the Briefs' home. Gohan, already planning a visit, obliged her with a smile and headed out the door.
"Bye, mom! Don't worry about dinner, I don't know when I'll get back!"
"Be careful, Gohan! I don't want to hear you've been fighting this time."
"All right, mom." Gohan waved to his mother and sprung into the air, "see you in a few days!"
Chi Chi waved for a moment out the kitchen window, then disappeared back into its warmer interior. Gohan took that opportunity to fly higher and faster, the best strategy for avoiding unwanted company. Sometimes it worked, but sometimes it didn't. Though the biomechanical terrors couldn't sense energy the way the Gohan could, a person would have to blind to miss the vapor trails that were often left behind in times of extremely high speeds. Generally, though, the androids didn't bother to look up. Most of their fun was found scrambling for cover on or underground.
The flight to the crumbling remains of the once renowned Capsule Corporation headquarters was blissfully uneventful. Gohan landed in the yard just as a small lavender haired boy came running out of the metal barri-door.
"Gohan!" Trunks waved enthusiastically at Gohan as the closest thing he had to a father figure in his life came in for a landing. "Mom said you might come by today!"
"Didn't she say that you were sick, too?" Gohan asked, raising an eyebrow at the boy.
"Mom worries too much," Trunks replied. But Gohan could see the flush of Trunks' cheeks and felt the way that the boy's energy fluctuated up and down more than what was normal for an active young demi-Saiyan. Not wanting to belittle the boy and doubt his words, but worried for his health, Gohan opted for the best approach when dealing with a member of the Briefs' family.
"Well, sick or not," Gohan smiled at the boy and ruffled his odd colored hair, "your mom thinks you are, and I'd rather go up against the androids with only an arm and a leg than argue with her. Why don't we go inside? I brought you breakfast."
Blue eyes widened with delight as Trunks expressed his enthusiasm over Chi Chi's cooking, but his celebrations were cut short when he doubled over in a fit of coughing. Shaking his head, Gohan shifted the basket into one hand and lifted the infirmed child into his free arm, bringing him backnside and back to his mother.
"There you are!" Bulma Briefs' voice carried to Gohan's hearing, and he did his best not to wince as the blue-haired woman came hurrying up to him, a blanket in her arms and a grimace on her face. "Honestly, Trunks, you're only going to get worse if you don't stay in bed!"
"But mom, I had to—" Trunks tried to protest, though Gohan wondered why he even bothered.
"No 'buts,' kiddo," Bulma scolded her son as Gohan eased the boy from his arms and into the custody of his mother. Wrapping the thick blanket securely around him, she ushered Trunks back to his room, an amused Gohan in tow.
Trunks, though still protesting, willingly climbed back into bed and allowed his mother to even throw on a few more quilts over him for good measure. Propped up against the bed headboard by a few thin pillows, Trunks waited for Bulma to finish fussing over him before he turned to Gohan with eagerness dancing about his face. "So what's in the basket, Gohan?"
Gohan chuckled and handed the boy Chi Chi's handiwork. "Have at it, Squirt, while I talk to your mom a bit."
Trunks readily agreed to the deal, and was soon tearing into the basket's foodstuffs. Gohan wondered if the boy would be so enthusiastic about it if he knew what Chi Chi had put in the food besides flavor to help speed along his recovery. Bulma must have been thinking the same thing, because she declined Trunks' offer to a portion of the basket's contents, instead opting to lead the older half-Saiyan out of the room so they could speak.
Shutting the door, Bulma gave it a quick glance before leading Gohan into the living room, "that boy," she tisked.
Gohan looked somewhat perplexed, "I never remember being sick when I was young," he mused.
"He's not so much sick as he is stupid," she scowled. "If he'd listened to me when I told him not to mix those chemicals together because the results would be dangerous, then he wouldn't be in bed now, recovering from vapor sickness. There's something about boys after the age of seven that makes them lose any ability to listen to sense."
Gohan thought that to be slightly unfair. "Hey, I listen."
"Oh really," Bulma quirked an eyebrow at him.
Gohan nodded.
"Do you still fight the androids?"
"Of course."
"Then you're not listening."
Gohan didn't know how to answer that.
Thankfully, Bulma didn't give him a chance, but instead plowed through to the point of his visit. "The news reports said yesterday that the androids were seen near the Eastern Mountains. The odd thing is, they've been saying that for the last two weeks."
Gohan blinked, "Why haven't I heard this before?"
"Because the normal reporters were caught by the androids and the broadcast was out for a time, and the Eastern Mountain range isn't exactly a thriving metropolis. There's no real reason those things would want to be over there—except that they have been, but now they're not."
"Hm." Gohan rested his elbow on his hand and shook his finger at his old friend, "this explains why you're so interested. Normally you don't care where they are as long as it's not near you."
She snorted, "those bastards can go jolly themselves for all I care. But there's rumored to be people over there."
Gohan nodded, understanding perfectly. If there was one thing he knew about the androids, it was that for all their power, they were little more than children--and with the attention spans to match. If they had spent a whole week in one area, it meant either one of two things: that there'd been enough people hidden in the mountains to give them that much sport, or that whatever had caught their interest had slipped from their grasp, and had continued to do so long enough for the androids to either catch them or lose interest. If it were any of the former, there might be people in great need of help. But if it were the latter, it would be interesting to see the briar patch that withstood such cunning foxes. Either way, it bore investigation.
Bulma turned to her worktable, moving things about with an assortment of thoughtful noises to accent her actions. Finally, she turned back to Gohan with a small, sandwich sized case. "This is an emergency capsule kit. Its got food and water capsules, as well as what first aid supplies I can spare."
"I'm sure whatever's there'll be plenty," Said Gohan.
"I certainly hope so," Bulma responded. She gripped Gohan's dark blue undershirt and used it to spin him around, reaching the knapsack on his back. "I'll put the kit next to your lunch so you don't lose it—" she turned him back around to face her and gave the young Saiyan a look. "—Your lunch, that is."
"Oh, Bulma—"
But Bulma wouldn't hear it, "don't you dare try that tone of voice with me. It doesn't work for Trunks, its certainly not going to work with you!"
Gohan sighed and hung his head, resigning himself to another lecture as Bulma plowed on. "Don't think that I haven't noticed, Buster. You Saiyans are supposed to be bottomless pits, capable of eating an entire city's food source in one sitting!" She poked him in the ribs, "you haven't asked for a meal in nearly a month! Its not healthy, Gohan, your mom and I worry about you."
The room was silent for a moment. Try as he might, though, Gohan could think of nothing to say in his defense. Bulma looked at him with a soft expression on her face, bordering on maternal. "Now I know you've been saying that you've just lost your appetite, but the truth is that you've lost much more than that. You've been at this, what? Ten years now? Not hardly older than Trunks is now when this whole mess started. That's a long time, Gohan, to watch your world fall apart." She stopped and smiled at him, tugging at the front of his Gi, "But we're proud of you, even if we're not all here to say it. So don't let us down by giving up just yet. Okay?"
Gohan nodded, giving the woman a small, half smile, "okay."
"Great." Bulma turned the demi-Saiyan around again, giving him a smack on his backside to send him on his way. "Now get out of here before Trunks finishes the basket and wants to go with you."
Gohan chuckled and waved a hand over his shoulder as he headed out the door, "if he could still walk after all that food."
Bulma shut the door behind Gohan and watched through the window as he took off from the yard and flew off to the distance. Once he was well out of sight, she went back to her son's room to check on him. Not surprisingly, the basket lay on its side near the bed, and Trunks was snuggled deep under the covers, looking for all the world like he was asleep. But as Bulma approached him, his eyes slid partially open and he looked up to his mother.
"Did Gohan leave?" He asked, his voice hardly above a sleepy murmur.
Bulma nodded.
"Do you think he'll find it?"
The woman looked at the boy, "find what?"
But Trunks' eyes had slid shut again, and this time Bulma saw that he was truly asleep, and whatever it was that Trunks felt Gohan needed was lost to the world of dreams.
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Reviews? Please? Starving author at work here!
