. A Story with No Name .

I Promise

AN – Well, o.o; Very long overdue, no? I'm terribly sorry about that, but very unexpected plans popped up. First my cousin, then an exceptionally long time at my dad's, then we moved. O.o;; To say the least, I've been busy. So, here is the chapter that should have come up two months ago. O.o; -cough- Heh, anyway, continuing on, this story is gonna start taking a bit of a turn from what I originally had planned. Hehehe, so what'll happen this chapter? Not even I know. O.o; and that's scary. XD o.O; heh, anyway …

A long, sorrowed wave concluded the warm afternoon. None wished to leave, but the sun was setting and its golden hue would soon abandon the world. So, to ensure their return would be safe, the Son family departed along with the others. Yamcha needed to prepare for work the coming day, Piccolo was supposedly behind on his meditation, Gohan needed to take Videl home before it got late, and Krillin needed to return home to ensure no fatalities had befallen the household. As Goku lifted his wife from the ground, Goten and Krillin levitated into the air, waving one last farewell to their old blue-haired friend. They shot off into the west, each holding a pleasant smile upon their face, and Krillin's house soon drew near. Another bout of farewells took hold, and each turned his own way. Within minutes, Goku and Goten landed on the lawn, and after setting Chi-chi down, walked inside their house and soon settled down to sleep. It had been a refreshing day that would get them through a few more months of monotony.

……

The sun rose softly and flickered across Son Goku's smooth, youthful face. He blinked a few times as his mind returned to its normal state, and he stared forward at the unusually dark walls that closed off the master bedroom from the rest of the house. His brows furrowed in tired confusion, knowing well that Chi-chi always opened the drapes before she fixed breakfast.

Mmm…

He perked up upon remembering the wonderful meal his wife always prepared, and took a large breath, hoping to smell exactly what she had decided to cook for today. His pleasant thoughts halted instantly when his deep breath lacked of the appetizing scent of food. He sat up swiftly, eyes wide with curiosity as he quickly scanned the room. He stared at the drapes that were still hanging over the window, and he blinked for a moment in confusion. His ears strained to hear the sounds of his wife downstairs, yet there was nothing that his sharp ears could catch. He threw the covers aside and jumped out of bed, flinging the door open and dashing into the living room, frantically searching for his wife's ki. She was nowhere to be felt, and he instantly ran towards his son's room, screaming frantically hoping to wake him before reaching the door.

"Goten! Goten, wake up! Wake up!"

He threw open his son's door to see him still sleeping beneath the covers. He breathed a sigh of relief for but a moment as he quickly covered the distance. He flung away the covers that dared trap his youngest son in sweet dreams and grabbed his shoulders, gently shaking him awake.

"Goten? Goten, wake up!"

The young boy's eyes fluttered a bit as his face contorted in various ways, and when he could finally focus on the large mass of color before him, he smiled and blinked one last time to bid every ounce of sleep that still rest within his mind.

"Hiya, Daddy! Is it breakfast time already?"

Goku's eyes were strict but soft while he stared at his son. Every time he looked at Goten, he always saw Gohan, and treated him as he had his older son. Of course, he often forgot that Gohan had matured much sooner thanks to the various situations he had been placed in. Goten, however, had yet to experience the things that had made his brother so much older so much sooner, yet Goku still treated him the same.

"No Goten. I…uh…"

He paused, realizing that telling Goten that his Mom was missing wasn't the wisest thing to do. He blinked, trying to think of something to cover up the real reason as to why he had burst into the room like a madman.

"I…uh…had a nightmare and wanted to say that I love you."

He quickly hugged his son and stood up.

"Now, let's go downstairs. I think your mom went to the store to buy some food, so we'll have to wait a little while to eat."

Goten pouted, obviously dissatisfied to hear about the delayed meal, but he quickly recovered and launched from the mattress and bound downstairs to turn on the TV Bulma had given them for Christmas one year. Goku, however, walked towards the kitchen and quickly picked up the phone. His fingers swiftly dialed a number he had remembered long ago (a rarity, without a doubt), and drew the receiver to his ear. A single note vibrated softly against his acute ears, and he waited impatiently for Bulma to pick up the phone.

It rang, and rang, and rang, sounding hopeless, as though it were calling out into a void of darkness where no beast cared to turn and take notice. Goku's finger tapped against the counter surface as the ringing tone continued with no end in sight. His forehead furrowed in anger and fear, begging her to answer. A clear note then signaled that the phone company had disconnected the call, and Goku growled darkly, slamming the headpiece harshly against the holder. His hands grasped the cabinet tops as a cold sweat sprung upon his forehead.

What was happening?

His mind reached out, sensing, searching for any sign that could lead him in the right direction. He checked the people off as he felt them, counting down the people with relief, yet anxiety. Goten, Piccolo, Yamcha, Tien, Krillin, and Trunks…was that all? His eyes snapped open as he stared forward, contemplating what could have possibly happened without his knowing.

What the hell is happening? Where is Bulma and Vegeta? And 18? And Gohan and Chi-chi? What the hell happened last night?

Goku pounded his fists against the cabinet, paying no attention to the small pieces of tile that cracked and sliced his calloused hand. Goku closed his eyes, trying to think of something to do next, when a small, meek voice interrupted his troubled thoughts.

"Daddy? What's wrong?"

When Goku turned, his eyes fell upon a heart-breaking sight. Goten stood with his head tilted down just slightly, looking rather guilty thinking that he was the cause of his father's anger, and had one of his thumbs just barely between his lips. He stared so innocently towards Goku that the burly saiyan just had to smile.

Goten watched him quietly, patiently waiting for an answer, still clothed in his dark blue and white pajamas. Goku calmed himself down, and knelt down, beckoning his son to him. Goten was hesitant at first, yet soon walked a few steps closer, eager to hear an explanation.

"Well," started Goku, "it seems as though a bunch of our friends are missing."

Goten blinked curiously, and quickly replied.

"Like who, Daddy?"

It was cute. His son never called him 'Daddy' whenever he was around everyone else. It was understandable, of course, but Goku still found it adorable how his son tried to seem so much older around his friends.

"Well, Mom's gone, and Bulma, and Gohan, and Vegeta's missing too…"

As he spoke, he focused more deeply, searching desperately for the slightest bit of power, hoping to have been mistaken, when he suddenly realized that those closest to him were not the only ones that had seemed to disappear. Puar and Oolong were gone as well, and with this new search, he realized that Yamcha's power was diminishing. Goku's head snapped up as he stared forward, realizing that Yamcha was dying, most probably because of whatever had attacked during the night. His fingers snapped to his forehead, but he paused, remembering that his power would shift drastically if he used the Instant Transmission, and if the offenders were still on the planet, they might detect it and come to kill him off as well (since Vegeta must have been nothing compared to them since Goku hadn't noticed any drastic shift in his power during the night). He quickly stood up and looked down to his son.

"Come on, but stay a ways behind me…"

He didn't want to fly to Yamcha, only to drag his youngest son to a valley of blood and gore, and he wasn't about to leave him alone. He didn't know what to expect. Goku then turned and ran to the door, launching himself off the ground. He flew as quickly as possible to where Yamcha lay drawing what could easily be his last breath. Goku's noble face was contorted with fear and pain, yet nothing had been solidified through visual proof.

Goten followed his dad, keeping just far enough to ease whatever was bothering his father, still wearing his t-shirt and pants that had been converted to night clothes when they were too big for daily use. He didn't know what was going on, but whatever it was, he could feel that it was something big. He remembered all the stories he had been told of great evil beings from other planets. Stories about Frieza and how his dad first turned Super Saiyan, and other stories about how his brother surpassed the Super Saiyan and defeated Cell with a Kamehameha wave. And he remembered Buu…

Goten grinned cleverly as excitement brimmed within his eyes. This could be another chance for him to prove himself, and he would be the great hero who would win and be adored forever and ever. His childish thoughts of fame stopped instantly when his father began slowly lowering himself to the ground. He scanned the field quickly, but didn't see anything interesting, mainly thanks to the long grasses that concealed a certain prize. Goku's eyes were wide with fear as his feet finally touched the ground. A soft whimpering reached his ears and he knew exactly from whom it came.

Yamcha…

He rushed forward, falling onto his hands and knees as he neared the place where his old friend lay hidden by the long grasses of the field. He brushed aside the stems to find his friend, stomach down, lying on the ground with blood soaking his clothes and the land around him. Goku gasped and fell forward yet again, instantly landing to Yamcha's side.

At this sudden movement, Yamcha turned his head to gaze upon who had come while torrents of fear poured from his eyes. He looked up to see a large, powerful form looming over him with a head drenched in darkness. A scream more painful and fearful then Goku thought possible erupted from the depths of Yamcha's soul, and, although his body was obviously plagued with paralyzing wounds, he took every inch of strength he had left to drag himself away from Goku, screaming hysterically and mumbling incoherent words.

Goku withdrew slightly, hurt firstly, and then worried at his old friends actions towards him. It was a pathetic sight, one that pained him greatly. Yamcha barely inched away from him, trying his hardest to get away, screaming and sobbing all the while.

"No! You…Puar. Die! Bastard, no! Go away, leave! Me… Bulma… Goku!"

Goku watched, horrified at the scene that played before his eyes, yet lunged towards him again and grabbing Yamcha's arm.

"Yamcha! Calm down, please! It's me, Goku! What happened?"

Yamcha tensed when Goku's hands clasped his bloody arm, yet when he heard Goku reveal his name, he turned his head around quickly to solidify those words. He narrowed his eyes, obviously scanning Goku carefully, yet soon his entire body relaxed and he spoke one word that held so much joy and relief, Goku's fears for his friends could only increase.

"Goku…"

Yamcha he fell back onto the ground with his eyes closed contently. Goku yelled out Yamcha's name and quickly grasped the old desert-bandits' shoulders, lifting him from the ground and supporting him with his knee. He held his old friend, begging for him to open his eyes, and just when he was convinced of his old friend's fate, Yamcha slowly opened his eyes, looking up to Goku with a happy little smile resting pleasantly upon his battered face. Goku breathed a sigh of relief, but he gently shook his friend's shoulders, speaking the question that had long plagued his mind.

"What happened, Yamcha?"

Yamcha just stared up at the powerful man that had at one time been nothing but a strange little boy from the woods, and watched him, seeming as though he hadn't even heard the question. He closed his eyes, but quickly reopened them as tears caressed his cheeks, carving paths through the dried blood and dirt that had collected through his trial. He laughed behind his pain, smiling brightly, and spoke carefully, obviously thinking about things other then Goku's question.

"Goku…I knew you'd come. A little late, I guess…"

At this, Yamcha laughed painfully again, and Goku leaned forward to better support his friend. Goku's sharp eyes quickly skimmed over Yamcha's body, horrified to see the extent of the damages. At least one leg was broken with the bone piercing through the skin, and someone had taken the liberty of beating in his chest until every rib was broken. Yamcha then spoke again with undoubted difficulty.

"Goku, why'd I ever stop training? I could have at least helped her…It's all my fault, they have her, those bastards took her…"

Goku tensed at this and lightly shook his shoulders again.

"Who? Who has her? What are you talking about? Yamcha, please tell me!"

Goku's eyes pleaded for answers, desperate for something to point him in the right direction. Yamcha just stared towards him, holding a distant look in his eyes. It was one of reflection and regret, of joy and utter despair. He coughed a bit and broke through the barrier of blood that attempted to halt the passage of air within his throat.

"Goku…he looked so much like you. Saiyan, I bet. I could have sworn you joined them, but I knew you wouldn't do something like that. I knew it, but no one else did. No one believed me…I knew you were going to come, I had faith. Goku…they…they killed Puar…She was just sitting there, watching me fight them, and they just flew over and…and killed her. They were horrible…they laughed at me, played with me like some toy. They flew away, to take Bulma away…"

He paused softly as his eyes changed to a more gentle air.

"…Bulma…I was such an idiot. I played her like a fool…"

He paused, his eyes narrowed the slightest measure, reflecting upon the many fights he and her had, and the many times where his hate and depression drove him to insanity. He didn't ever really like fighting, and since Bulma was a very jealous woman, it didn't matter if he was just asking directions from some girl or if he lent a helping hand to a single mother, with four kids seven years and younger, unload a van full of groceries. Bulma couldn't take it, and she would always start screaming at him, constantly yelling and causing him to fight back in defense.

She might have felt nothing from those fights, but he had always felt degraded and ashamed, belittled and hated at the end of those little skirmishes. He'd end up going to a bar to have a drink, but then he'd have another, and another, and another until he found himself in his apartment with some girl in his bed. He closed his eyes, pausing simply to reflect over his words.

"I should have treated her better…I mean, she went to Vegeta to soothe her pain. I never meant to hurt her that much. Goku, I loved her so much, I still do. I can't get her face out of my head, and those eyes. Those damn eyes…"

He closed his eyes tightly now, quietly remembering her fiery eyes burning with such a godly beauty and grace that even the more satanic of beasts would fall to their knees before her gaze, simply to praise and worship her. He reopened his eyes, looking towards the sky rather then his dear old friend and protector, and sighed carefully.

"Goku, I'm sorry. I should have never tried to steal the dragon balls from you. I should have just rotted away in the desert. It's all I deserve, at least. Goku, go save her, please. I don't know where they went, but I know that they…that they kept asking about you, calling you Kakarot like Vegeta does…They said something about Vegeta too, but I…can't really remember. I have no doubts Goku, they were Saiyans. I couldn't see their tails, but they kept calling him Prince Vegeta, and they…they were just too strong."

Goku stared in shock towards his normally shallow friend, hearing every word and feeling every ounce of pure emotion that dripped from Yamcha's lips, yet he still couldn't believe that it was Yamcha who was talking. He never acted like this, and if anything, everyone had always thought that he believed it was the best choice for him and Bulma to end their relationship. But no, he had simply hidden behind a strange mask of guilt, knowing she would be happier with the Prince of Saiyans then she could ever be with him. Goku blinked, feeling so much sympathy for the dying man before him, and he spoke softly to ease the troubled heart.

"Yamcha, don't beat yourself up over this. Don't worry, I'll get her back in no time, and I'll kill them all. Yamcha, just wait here, I'll go to Karin and grab you a senzu bean, and you'll be good as new…"

Yamcha lifted a bloody hand, trying to get his attention, and when Goku paused, the beaten man grinned behind a blazing aura of irony.

"Nah, don't worry about me. Just go figure out where they took her, and make sure they don't…do anything. Go on, before it's too late…"

Goku stared at his friend as Yamcha closed his eyes, obviously waiting for Goku to turn and fly away, but he didn't move an inch and just held his old, beaten friend. Yamcha had never been the kind of person to think of himself last, but here, everything was different. Maybe he was going delusional, or possibly his wounds were so great, that he knew nothing could save him in time. Yet another possibility was that he truly loved Bulma as much as he had said, not caring whether he lived or died, only wishing for the idol of his life to live happily until the end of her days.

Goku stared at him, and Yamcha knew he wasn't going to leave him alone. In so many ways, he was angry that Goku was compassionate enough to stay with a friend that was dying, and that he wasn't jumping up and flying off to save the day like always. But in one of the deepest sectors of his heart, he was glad. Glad to be important enough to someone like Goku that he'd rather stay to comfort the pangs and queer experience of death.

No one ever really realized what they had until it was gone, it was simply a universal fact. But for some reason, even when all of the great Saiyan's friends lost their grand protector to the cold grasp of death, they still didn't fully understand what they had. They had the most powerful warrior the universe had ever unearthed, who would do anything to protect them, and loved them with such a deep love that their deaths only brought about pain and misery.

Yamcha, however, stared up at the man cloaked in robes of the richest orange hue and knew exactly what the planet had.

An angel.

Goku's eyes were narrowed sadly as he watched his friend, making sure that Yamcha knew he wasn't going to leave any time soon. Yamcha then smiled and tilted his head slightly, and would have shrugged his shoulders had he more spunk left in his battered form.

"Suit yourself, just promise me this Goku," spoke Yamcha, his voice taking upon a much weaker air. He coughed a brittle cough that distorted his speech and flecked his sweet blood across the orange savior before him.

"Save her, bring her back here so…so she can live the life I should have been able to give, but was too much of an idiot to accept. Please, take her from harm for me…please…"

His voice was so weak, his eyes so powerfully passionate, and the muscles across his entire body so tense with fear and disgrace that shudders softly shook his battered form as he pleaded his final wish. His eyes suddenly paused, as though they had forgotten the turmoil that burned away his soul, and a pure and utter calm consumed his entire body.

His face relaxed and his eyes fell back, and his hand drifted from its previous hold upon Goku's powerful arm to the ground, resting for eternity consumed by the servitude of calm death. Goku's eyes brimmed with warm tears as he watched his old friend's life fade away, and when finally the old bandit spoke his very last word, those same, gentle eyes widened with fear.

He stared for a long while, hoping that all this had been a dream, and closed his eyes softly, unable to believe the fate that had yet again befallen the warrior. He leaned forward, his head bowed low above Yamcha's beaten chest, and two tears fell from Goku's face. One fell upon the old fighter's chest, just above his heart, while the other fell upon his hand, covered with dried strips of blood and thick mud.

Goku sat still for a long while, hanging his grand head over the shell of what had once been one of his greatest allies. He stayed silent, unmoving and unchanging, with his eyes closed and his mind lost in dark, brooding thoughts. Yamcha had fallen with nothing but regret and love burning in his eyes, pleading to Goku to save the only thing he truly held dear. He had died begging for him to save Bulma, and Goku wasn't about to leave that final request unmet. He closed his eyes and bowed his head only a touch more.

"I promise…"