A/N: Thanks so much to the people who reviewed! ^_^ (By the way: Shadow
cat, I would, but I think you can only post a story under two characters.
-_-) Also: One mroe chapter until they all start school!
Where on Earth could his mother have found the time to rebuild the time machine?
She would have had to build it from scratch, considering Torankusu had chi-blasted it to peices several days after he had gotten back...
And hadn't she destroyed her plans, or was that a lie?
All this and more ran through Torankusu's head as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed. He remembered his mother commenting many times how much he looked like his father...
And of course this thought made him think of him. The on he'd lost, the one he'd found... The one he'd soon see again.
It made him happy, he couldn't deny that. Especially after what Kuririn'd said... Proof that Vejita really did care about him. He'd love to see all of them again, really... Gohan, no matter how much it made him ache fo rhis mentor. Goku, Kuririn, Yamucha, Tenshinhan, Chaotsu...the younger version of his mother and Chichi.
But it was wrong, his mom had to know that. The last time he traveled back in time, it was to save the world. To save lives... In both their minds, it had justified altering the past. The fact that they had merely made a different timeline only made it better...morally, at least.
But this...this was selfish. It was only to help themselves; no one else. And Torankusu didn't like it.
Never mind the fact that he dreaded going to school for the first time in his life. He had enough education from Buruma and Chichi to get by, sure, but actually being in a classroom? It was terrifying. Not many things scared Torankusu anymore, but this... It wasn't anything he'd experienced before.
It would certainly help if he knew any fo his classmates. It hadn't even been a year since he left, so Gohan wasn't old enough, especially to be a senior...
He sighed, pulling back from his thoughts and focusing on his mother. She and the new time machine werein the middle fo the lab; she was adding 'finishing touches', as she called them. Several minutes later she pulled back, and Torankusu was hit with a wave of nostalgia.
It was the exact replica of the one he'd used to save Goku's life and assist the Z-Senshi in destroying the jinzouningen. Except that, instead of the word "Hope!!", Buruma had scribbled "scholasticus".
Torankusu raised an eyebrow at her when she turned to glance at him, and gestured to the word on the time machine. Buruma smiled.
"It's Latin. Scholar, learned on, schoolboy..."
Torankusu smirked despite himself.
"You could have picked a smaller word..."
Buruma chuckled.
"Maybe, but I figured this one fit the best."
Torankusu nodded, a tiny half-smile alighting his own features, and glanced back at the time machine. So many memories...some better than others. He could still remember the feeling of Cell's chi beam ripping through his heart if he tried.
But he also remembered returning to world that was in no danger from Gero's creations. That made everything worthwhile.
He walked hesitantly toward it, a suitcase clutched in one hand, a container of capsules in the other. He glanced almost desperately at his mother, but any fool could see she was firmly resolved. He sighed defeatedly and continued to walk.
He vaguely thought that the suitcase was heavier than it should be, even with his sword. He didn't have many clothes--they figured he'd buy more when he got there.
It was when he was a few inches from the door that he caught his mother, out fo the corner of his eye, following him.
Confusion flashed in his eyes, and then suspicion. He looked back at the time machine.
Yes, it was identical to the other...on the outside.
On the inside, it seated two.
Juunanagou leaned against his chair, his legs out and his arms behind his head, hands locked together. His eyes were closed as he bit on a cigarette--a habit he had picked up a few years ago. In his eyes, it annoyed people, and it couldn't really hurt him, so what the hell. All the better if his cabin had that smokey smell everyone hated.
He wouldn't admit it, but having one between his teeth seemed to help him think. He'd been doing that a lot lately...not much else to occupy his time at home, really. No electricity, and it didn't take forever to finish a stolen magazine.
Truth be told, he had a bit of a problem. Kuririn's idea had...intrigued him. Posing as a harmless schoolboy...who knew whom he might end up leading on? And he really had been curious...not remembering anything of his human life, Juunana had no idea what school could be like.
There was also the fact that Gohan would be there. A slight smirk formed on his face at the thought. He never killed the father...why not make it up for making his son's school life a living hell?
It would be a blast.
But he had the impression he'd need a parent, or something. Enrolling (if that was what it was called...) and all that. And he'd have to come up with a convincing story...and would probably need proof that he came from another school, along with who he was...
Of course, he could always threaten them into letting him enter, but that would defeat the purpose of his game. Being discreet wasn't quite as fun, but it had been awhile since he'd done it.
But it would take much more work, as always. And as of yet, he had very little idea of what he could do. It would be perfect if he could find his true records, but where could they possibly...
"The lab..." he muttered. He stood up abruptly, the cigarette falling out of his mouth. He crushed it out with the foot without looking down, chuckling all the while.
"I can't believe I never though about that... The old bastard must have had something. And chances are, it was locked away. Might not be destroyed.
Laughing outright now, he raced out the door, taking flight.
Gohan was several miles away from his house, sitting cross-legged in utter silence. His arms were folded loosely and he was leaning against a tree.
He was trying with all his might to concentrate, but no matter what he tried, he just couldn't meditate. Thoughts of high school kept intruding. He was nervous as hell, and he knew it. He wouldn't deny it.
The problem was, he didn't know what he could do about it. He could only dwell on everything bad that could happen. One of the main being, he would meet many new people at once. All his age...and, unlike him, normal. If they ever found out who he was, they'd think he was a freak. Some probably already would, though, most likely. He'd been home schooled for fourteen years! And the girls...he was never around girls his own age... And sports. He didn't know anything about sports.
Sighing, Gohan opened his eyes. This just wasn't going to work. He'd just have to wait until he went...then, his fears would either subside or prove true...
Bet it's the second...
Gohan banged his head lightly against the tree.
Shut up. Even though you're right.
"Oh, boy..." me muttered, letting his head drop. Why couldn't highschool go and start already?
Juunanagou had been rummaging through what was left of Gero's lab for about fifteen minutes, and as of yet didn't find anything.
He growled with frustration. If baldy and that future boy had destroyed it...
Scowling, he tossed aside some rubble. He was kneeling on one knee, rummaging** through the debris at the back of the mountain laboratory.
"Aha!" he muttered, beaming. He had uncovered a square steel square, ten inches in length and width, with a small latch in the bottom-right corner.
Expecting the lock, Juunana fished around in his the pocket of his tight blue jeans, and shortly recovered a small pin.
Still grinning, he set to work on the lock. He'd had much practice in this area, but within several minutes he began to get frustrated. This was a very complicated lock, though not as high-tech as Gero usually preferred-- obviously, he thought no one would want to find his little stash, if that was what this little door really concealed.
Juunana was debating with himself. Picking the lock would be much more sinister, and would appear more clever. But he had never been patient, not in the least.
After a few more minutes of two of his most prominent attributes battling with each other, he just shrugged his shoulders and tore the lock off. School would be much more complicated than picking a lock, and he wanted to get to the real plan.
It wasn't as if he was curious of his origins...of his other life, before Gero interfered. Well, maybe a little. Only because it would be amusing.
He removed the medal square, tossing it aside uncerimoniously. The space under it wasn't all that deep, but, as he realised as he peered into it, deep enough to house a large stack of papers on top of which was an aged journal, another of pictures, and a tape recorder with tapes in a row of their own.
Juunana's eyes widened slightly. The old man had been more throrough than he'd thought, obviously. He let his eyes sweep the contents once again, and he uncounciously took a closer look at the topmost picture.
He felt his hands go limp.
It was of a girl in her late teens. Her eyes were a bright sky-blue, her blond hair falling to her waist. She was smiling, her face flushed. On her head was a very wide blue, cone-shaped hat, with the words Happy 17th Birthday etched in orange. She was standing in front of a wall; he could make out a shaggy blue rug at her feet.
He lifted the picture with a sluggishness, a hesitance not of him at all. He didn't know what was wrong with him, but went with the odd feelings.
On the back were several words written in red ink.
Crystal Anderson. One year until target is abducted.
Placing it carefully to the side, Juunana lifted the other just as before. He was beginning to realize why he was acting so uncharacteristically.
This one was of a boy. His dark hair was cropped very short, though you could tell it was straight, like the girl's. His eyes were a brilliant green, and his face had the same happy flush as Crystal's. On his light blue sweater, obviously very new, were the words Lucky Seventeen.
Again, Juunana flipped the picture over in his hand. On the back, in the same handwriting and color, were a name and a sentence.
Daren Anderson One year until target is abducted.
For one instant, he felt a searing wave of melancholy and loathing, then it was gone. In fact, all hesitance and nostalgia was gone.
No, not quite...not the nostalgia. He remembered...not this day, nothing concrete. But something. A feeling...he recognized these faces, as well he should, he figured.
Shrugging, Juunana gathered the pictures in his arms, and took off for home. He'd examine everything there.
He did, as soon as he got home. It seemed that Gero had started researching them when they were ten; at least, that was as far as the pictures went. They were all taken during a birthday. Some twisted irony, Juunana figured.
One their seventeenth birthday, they looked almost exactly the same as they did now. Except the eyes...and not just the color. The ilife/I. The visible soul that one couldn't see through the things they had in their sockets now.
Juunana had found everything he needed in that stack of papers. It was rather eerie, really. Gero was madder than he'd thought.
Now he was skimming the journal. There was a lot of notes, on their behavior, their friends and family, and the like, but this didn't interest Juunana at present.
That was, until he jerked it to the side, done with it, and saw a white edge stickign out of the back. Raising an eyebrow, he grabbed it with his thumb and index finger.
It was a picture. A picture of a man and a woman. The woman had long blond that reached her waist, her eyes a green like his own used to be. Her face was the same as his sister's, so very similar to his own. His father's hair was dark black, rather messy. He wore stylish black glasses over eyes like Crystal's.
On the back, words were written, in pencil this time.
Amelia and Jared Anderson
The rest was smudged, illegible.
Torankusu braced himself. He had already warned his mother about the trip. Well, not warned, exactly...just told. It wasn't all that bad, just strange. Though that was to be expected.
When he pressed the correct buttons and levers, it started.
Automatically, his eyes closed, very softly, as it began.
There was a low humming, something he could feel, yet not quite hear. It went through his entire body, and then seemed to numb his brain. All thoughts left it, and he was in a sort of meditative state, though one he had no control over.
They were moving, very fast, though it wasn't the kind he was used to. Instead of going in any fo the four dimensions, the machine seemed to have one set aside, all its own.
The speed, or whatever it could be called, increased dramatically after a few minutes, or maybe hours. The state he was in became more intense, and he saw, in his minds' eyes, a flash of white light, blinding him for what seemed an instant. It was like watching lightning through the windows of your house.
In that moment, everything he had been, would be, and was, was laid before him. It was all around him, even as the time machine continued its progress. He could almost see his memories, almost see his future. All the pain, the happiness, everything he had felt and would feel, he knew right then.
Then, very suddenly, it stopped. The time machine slowed. And, very gradually, his mind was his again. It was over.
They were in the past.
Where on Earth could his mother have found the time to rebuild the time machine?
She would have had to build it from scratch, considering Torankusu had chi-blasted it to peices several days after he had gotten back...
And hadn't she destroyed her plans, or was that a lie?
All this and more ran through Torankusu's head as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed. He remembered his mother commenting many times how much he looked like his father...
And of course this thought made him think of him. The on he'd lost, the one he'd found... The one he'd soon see again.
It made him happy, he couldn't deny that. Especially after what Kuririn'd said... Proof that Vejita really did care about him. He'd love to see all of them again, really... Gohan, no matter how much it made him ache fo rhis mentor. Goku, Kuririn, Yamucha, Tenshinhan, Chaotsu...the younger version of his mother and Chichi.
But it was wrong, his mom had to know that. The last time he traveled back in time, it was to save the world. To save lives... In both their minds, it had justified altering the past. The fact that they had merely made a different timeline only made it better...morally, at least.
But this...this was selfish. It was only to help themselves; no one else. And Torankusu didn't like it.
Never mind the fact that he dreaded going to school for the first time in his life. He had enough education from Buruma and Chichi to get by, sure, but actually being in a classroom? It was terrifying. Not many things scared Torankusu anymore, but this... It wasn't anything he'd experienced before.
It would certainly help if he knew any fo his classmates. It hadn't even been a year since he left, so Gohan wasn't old enough, especially to be a senior...
He sighed, pulling back from his thoughts and focusing on his mother. She and the new time machine werein the middle fo the lab; she was adding 'finishing touches', as she called them. Several minutes later she pulled back, and Torankusu was hit with a wave of nostalgia.
It was the exact replica of the one he'd used to save Goku's life and assist the Z-Senshi in destroying the jinzouningen. Except that, instead of the word "Hope!!", Buruma had scribbled "scholasticus".
Torankusu raised an eyebrow at her when she turned to glance at him, and gestured to the word on the time machine. Buruma smiled.
"It's Latin. Scholar, learned on, schoolboy..."
Torankusu smirked despite himself.
"You could have picked a smaller word..."
Buruma chuckled.
"Maybe, but I figured this one fit the best."
Torankusu nodded, a tiny half-smile alighting his own features, and glanced back at the time machine. So many memories...some better than others. He could still remember the feeling of Cell's chi beam ripping through his heart if he tried.
But he also remembered returning to world that was in no danger from Gero's creations. That made everything worthwhile.
He walked hesitantly toward it, a suitcase clutched in one hand, a container of capsules in the other. He glanced almost desperately at his mother, but any fool could see she was firmly resolved. He sighed defeatedly and continued to walk.
He vaguely thought that the suitcase was heavier than it should be, even with his sword. He didn't have many clothes--they figured he'd buy more when he got there.
It was when he was a few inches from the door that he caught his mother, out fo the corner of his eye, following him.
Confusion flashed in his eyes, and then suspicion. He looked back at the time machine.
Yes, it was identical to the other...on the outside.
On the inside, it seated two.
Juunanagou leaned against his chair, his legs out and his arms behind his head, hands locked together. His eyes were closed as he bit on a cigarette--a habit he had picked up a few years ago. In his eyes, it annoyed people, and it couldn't really hurt him, so what the hell. All the better if his cabin had that smokey smell everyone hated.
He wouldn't admit it, but having one between his teeth seemed to help him think. He'd been doing that a lot lately...not much else to occupy his time at home, really. No electricity, and it didn't take forever to finish a stolen magazine.
Truth be told, he had a bit of a problem. Kuririn's idea had...intrigued him. Posing as a harmless schoolboy...who knew whom he might end up leading on? And he really had been curious...not remembering anything of his human life, Juunana had no idea what school could be like.
There was also the fact that Gohan would be there. A slight smirk formed on his face at the thought. He never killed the father...why not make it up for making his son's school life a living hell?
It would be a blast.
But he had the impression he'd need a parent, or something. Enrolling (if that was what it was called...) and all that. And he'd have to come up with a convincing story...and would probably need proof that he came from another school, along with who he was...
Of course, he could always threaten them into letting him enter, but that would defeat the purpose of his game. Being discreet wasn't quite as fun, but it had been awhile since he'd done it.
But it would take much more work, as always. And as of yet, he had very little idea of what he could do. It would be perfect if he could find his true records, but where could they possibly...
"The lab..." he muttered. He stood up abruptly, the cigarette falling out of his mouth. He crushed it out with the foot without looking down, chuckling all the while.
"I can't believe I never though about that... The old bastard must have had something. And chances are, it was locked away. Might not be destroyed.
Laughing outright now, he raced out the door, taking flight.
Gohan was several miles away from his house, sitting cross-legged in utter silence. His arms were folded loosely and he was leaning against a tree.
He was trying with all his might to concentrate, but no matter what he tried, he just couldn't meditate. Thoughts of high school kept intruding. He was nervous as hell, and he knew it. He wouldn't deny it.
The problem was, he didn't know what he could do about it. He could only dwell on everything bad that could happen. One of the main being, he would meet many new people at once. All his age...and, unlike him, normal. If they ever found out who he was, they'd think he was a freak. Some probably already would, though, most likely. He'd been home schooled for fourteen years! And the girls...he was never around girls his own age... And sports. He didn't know anything about sports.
Sighing, Gohan opened his eyes. This just wasn't going to work. He'd just have to wait until he went...then, his fears would either subside or prove true...
Bet it's the second...
Gohan banged his head lightly against the tree.
Shut up. Even though you're right.
"Oh, boy..." me muttered, letting his head drop. Why couldn't highschool go and start already?
Juunanagou had been rummaging through what was left of Gero's lab for about fifteen minutes, and as of yet didn't find anything.
He growled with frustration. If baldy and that future boy had destroyed it...
Scowling, he tossed aside some rubble. He was kneeling on one knee, rummaging** through the debris at the back of the mountain laboratory.
"Aha!" he muttered, beaming. He had uncovered a square steel square, ten inches in length and width, with a small latch in the bottom-right corner.
Expecting the lock, Juunana fished around in his the pocket of his tight blue jeans, and shortly recovered a small pin.
Still grinning, he set to work on the lock. He'd had much practice in this area, but within several minutes he began to get frustrated. This was a very complicated lock, though not as high-tech as Gero usually preferred-- obviously, he thought no one would want to find his little stash, if that was what this little door really concealed.
Juunana was debating with himself. Picking the lock would be much more sinister, and would appear more clever. But he had never been patient, not in the least.
After a few more minutes of two of his most prominent attributes battling with each other, he just shrugged his shoulders and tore the lock off. School would be much more complicated than picking a lock, and he wanted to get to the real plan.
It wasn't as if he was curious of his origins...of his other life, before Gero interfered. Well, maybe a little. Only because it would be amusing.
He removed the medal square, tossing it aside uncerimoniously. The space under it wasn't all that deep, but, as he realised as he peered into it, deep enough to house a large stack of papers on top of which was an aged journal, another of pictures, and a tape recorder with tapes in a row of their own.
Juunana's eyes widened slightly. The old man had been more throrough than he'd thought, obviously. He let his eyes sweep the contents once again, and he uncounciously took a closer look at the topmost picture.
He felt his hands go limp.
It was of a girl in her late teens. Her eyes were a bright sky-blue, her blond hair falling to her waist. She was smiling, her face flushed. On her head was a very wide blue, cone-shaped hat, with the words Happy 17th Birthday etched in orange. She was standing in front of a wall; he could make out a shaggy blue rug at her feet.
He lifted the picture with a sluggishness, a hesitance not of him at all. He didn't know what was wrong with him, but went with the odd feelings.
On the back were several words written in red ink.
Crystal Anderson. One year until target is abducted.
Placing it carefully to the side, Juunana lifted the other just as before. He was beginning to realize why he was acting so uncharacteristically.
This one was of a boy. His dark hair was cropped very short, though you could tell it was straight, like the girl's. His eyes were a brilliant green, and his face had the same happy flush as Crystal's. On his light blue sweater, obviously very new, were the words Lucky Seventeen.
Again, Juunana flipped the picture over in his hand. On the back, in the same handwriting and color, were a name and a sentence.
Daren Anderson One year until target is abducted.
For one instant, he felt a searing wave of melancholy and loathing, then it was gone. In fact, all hesitance and nostalgia was gone.
No, not quite...not the nostalgia. He remembered...not this day, nothing concrete. But something. A feeling...he recognized these faces, as well he should, he figured.
Shrugging, Juunana gathered the pictures in his arms, and took off for home. He'd examine everything there.
He did, as soon as he got home. It seemed that Gero had started researching them when they were ten; at least, that was as far as the pictures went. They were all taken during a birthday. Some twisted irony, Juunana figured.
One their seventeenth birthday, they looked almost exactly the same as they did now. Except the eyes...and not just the color. The ilife/I. The visible soul that one couldn't see through the things they had in their sockets now.
Juunana had found everything he needed in that stack of papers. It was rather eerie, really. Gero was madder than he'd thought.
Now he was skimming the journal. There was a lot of notes, on their behavior, their friends and family, and the like, but this didn't interest Juunana at present.
That was, until he jerked it to the side, done with it, and saw a white edge stickign out of the back. Raising an eyebrow, he grabbed it with his thumb and index finger.
It was a picture. A picture of a man and a woman. The woman had long blond that reached her waist, her eyes a green like his own used to be. Her face was the same as his sister's, so very similar to his own. His father's hair was dark black, rather messy. He wore stylish black glasses over eyes like Crystal's.
On the back, words were written, in pencil this time.
Amelia and Jared Anderson
The rest was smudged, illegible.
Torankusu braced himself. He had already warned his mother about the trip. Well, not warned, exactly...just told. It wasn't all that bad, just strange. Though that was to be expected.
When he pressed the correct buttons and levers, it started.
Automatically, his eyes closed, very softly, as it began.
There was a low humming, something he could feel, yet not quite hear. It went through his entire body, and then seemed to numb his brain. All thoughts left it, and he was in a sort of meditative state, though one he had no control over.
They were moving, very fast, though it wasn't the kind he was used to. Instead of going in any fo the four dimensions, the machine seemed to have one set aside, all its own.
The speed, or whatever it could be called, increased dramatically after a few minutes, or maybe hours. The state he was in became more intense, and he saw, in his minds' eyes, a flash of white light, blinding him for what seemed an instant. It was like watching lightning through the windows of your house.
In that moment, everything he had been, would be, and was, was laid before him. It was all around him, even as the time machine continued its progress. He could almost see his memories, almost see his future. All the pain, the happiness, everything he had felt and would feel, he knew right then.
Then, very suddenly, it stopped. The time machine slowed. And, very gradually, his mind was his again. It was over.
They were in the past.