Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z.
Author's Notes: I'm literally dead from mid-terms. Well, I was. Then I got King Kai to ask some people to gather the dragonballs and bring me back to life, so here I am. (she pauses and realizes how pathetically detached from reality she sounds) Anyway. I think you'll find this chapter worth waiting for. It's long, with some very interesting developments. Enjoy!
*****
Chapter 30: What's in a Name?
"Good. And again? Good. And again? NO!"
The abrupt noise shook the four humans and one demi-Saiyan out of their stupors. Two hours of training at twice Earth's gravity, and they were starting to feel it, at least, all except Pan. But they couldn't tell this to the Wicked Witch of Satan City. Not if they wanted to run another hundred laps.
This was why Jita wasn't teaching the younger ones.
She'd started out teaching a few younger ones, but she didn't have the patience. Goten, on the other hand, had infinite patience with children, and now taught the beginner courses, leaving the advanced for Jita. The only problem was . . .
"You've been taught all wrong!" Jita was continuing to rant to her most advanced class. "Forget everything and do what I say! Otherwise you're wasting your time here!" Jita paused to regard her students. Seeing how tired the humans were, she set them to ki-control exercises for another hour and left the room.
Jita picked up a paper labeled "Advanced Class" and began to write comments under each name. She sighed and shook her head. She knew she was being hard on them, and exaggerating their faults just a little. But she couldn't let them get too cocky, especially Pan. A lot of this was elementary for Pan, and she sometimes scoffed at doing "the basics." But Jita put her through it anyway, since she saw a few flaws in the child's technique.
The humans weren't so bad. At least it was better teaching them than the small children. Yes, it was wise of Goten to take over that age group. He was much more patient with the childish antics that Jita found distracting. So Jita found herself teaching far fewer students, yet each of the older students had much more class time than the children. It pretty much evened out.
Jita shook off a twinge in her stomach and focused on the sheet in front of her, as well as carefully monitored her student's ki levels. Jita had become much more adept in sensing ki, especially the five students in her highest class. There was Pan, and then two males and two females all between the ages of fourteen and seventeen. They had all had former martial arts training, which was the biggest problem Jita ran in to. One of the males - Danto - refused to admit when he was in the wrong and constantly quoted his former sensei. He wasn't as bad as when he first came in, mostly because one of the girls had dealt him a humiliating defeat, but there was still some arrogance.
On the other side of the coin, there was the humble Pecon. While he was respectful, he was also self-effacing - well, more like self-deprecating. He had almost no self-esteem. He was a young monk from, coincidentally, the Orinji temple. He had heard tales of another monk leaving the temple and becoming very powerful. So the boy followed in that monk's footsteps and went to find the Turtle Master. Of course, he had not known that the old sensei was dead, and instead he found his role model Krillen. Krillen refused to train the boy on the grounds that he had completely retired from fighting and was too involved with his own family. He told the boy to train at Jita and Goten's dojo, so here he was. He was one of their few full-time students, since he had to live at the dojo. They'd been working a long time to get his self-confidence up, but Pecon was convinced that he wasn't very powerful. He was actually the second strongest in the class, since Pan was there, but he could never get a clear-cut victory over anyone. He was too convinced that he should lose. Though she couldn't understand his motivation, she still tried to help him.
Jita focused her attention on the girls. Krianan was, well . . . Jita liked her. The girl has the quintessential militant feminist. It was just sort of refreshing to see a girl stand up for herself and all other women in a society that bred weak-willed women. Krianan was the one that beat Danton the first day. She'd told Jita that she'd learned martial arts just to show that it wasn't just a man's field. She was always angry about something. There was just something about her that reminded Jita of herself, so she pretty much took Krianan under her wing. Krianan didn't live there, but she spent most of her time there anyway.
The last girl was named Darjili. She was the most cheerful kid Jita had ever seen. The girl had wavy blue hair and green eyes. She also lived at the dojo, claiming that her home was too far away to commute. She kept this home a secret. If the girl wasn't so happy, then Jita would have been worried. As it was, Jita wasn't worried about her at all, and let Darjili keep her secrets if she wanted to.
Jita made her notes and put her head on the table over them. Why was she so exhausted? She just felt drained of all energy. A suspicion was beginning to form in her mind, but she kept thinking it was impossible. She'd taken precautions and everything. She didn't want to have to deal with this right now. A sharp pain was hitting her stomach, accompanied by a wave of nausea. After a few seconds of controlled breathing, she thought she had it under control.
Until she ran to the restroom and puked her guts out.
*****
'Today . . . was fun.'
Goten sat on the couch, looking over the notes he'd taken - evaluations of each student. He couldn't believe how much he loved teaching those little ones. They were so trusting . . . it almost made you feel like a god . . . and scared to death that you'd screw everything up. Yes, he'd definitely made the right choice in teaching the beginners.
He looked at his wife's (could he ever get used to that?) notes in curiosity. She was rather critical of her students, not used to dealing with those of human strength. She handled three classes, like him, and each were rather small. They were a young school yet, and still had to build a reputation. The most advanced had only five members. One of them, he'd been surprised to see, was Pan. She was already a pretty good fighter, but maybe she couldn't resist having access to the training equipment. Or perhaps she wished to learn from a strong female fighter. Girls were funny that way.
Speaking of which, Jita was acting a bit strange. Angrier than usual. She'd canceled a class that afternoon and left without saying a word. So extremely unlike her. If she was anything, she was responsible. Come to think of it, she'd been acting strangely a lot lately.
"Watcha doing?"
Goten jumped literally six feet in the air, banging his head on the living room ceiling. Rubbing his head, he turned to seen his purple-haired childhood friend. "What's wrong with you?! Don't sneak up on me like that!"
Trunks laughed evilly. "You should be more on your guard, Mr. Super Saiyan 3."
"I'm not used to being attacked in my own house. And who invited you in?" Goten replied shortly.
"What do you think I am, a vampire? I come and go as I please."
Goten laughed. He hadn't spoken to Trunks in a while. Been too busy. "So, how's . . . whatever it is you've been doing?"
Trunks plopped down on an adjacent chair. "I've been going insane. But Mom loves it now that I'm taking over the business part of Capsule Corp. She was not that adept at it. You know, she lost millions of zeni in bad business deals. I . . ."
Trunks was cut off by a certain glaring presence from the doorway. Without a word, Jita swept past the two men, grabbed her notes, and took them into the adjoining dining room.
"Hello Jita," Trunks said reluctantly, much to Goten's chagrin. When she was like this, it was best not to speak to her.
Her glare deepened, and the two men wilted under the intensity. But just when she looked like she was going to go into a tirade, she calmly said, "Trunks, are you staying for supper?"
Trunks shifted uneasily. "Um . . . yeah, sure."
Jita put her notes down and walked into the kitchen. Trunks eyes his friend. "What was that about?"
Goten was curious as well. Maybe the voice was bothering her more. He had to know if it was. Giving Trunks a look, he walked into the kitchen to be greeted by the clanging of pots and pans. Jita was floating all over the kitchen, her ability to fly overcoming the difficulties of reaching things inherent to her height. She usually didn't like him in the kitchen when she was cooking, but it was a risk he had to take. "Jita, what's wrong?"
Jita whirled around, a flash of panic in her eyes. She quickly recovered. "Nothing's wrong. Now, out of the kitchen. Go talk to Trunks."
'Oh, well,' he thought. 'I'll have to wait until she's ready. Besides, she'd tell me about the voice. No, it's something else.'
Jita watched him go, and continued cooking, trying to concentrate on the meal.
'Chicken is done, peas are on the stove, rice is almost done, rolls in the oven, tea is made, exactly how am I going to tell him.'
Jita was worrying herself sick - no . . . maybe it wasn't worry that was making her sick. But she still worried, all through setting the table and finishing the food preparations. She'd had to deal with new situations continually since she'd been reincarnated, but this . . . was quite overwhelming.
"Goten! Answer the phone!" Jita yelled, knowing he wouldn't without prompting. She pulled the chicken out of the oven and set if on the table.
"Jita! Mom wants to talk to you!"
'Chichi! Oh, no! Suppose she'd blabbed it out without thinking. No, Jita. Calm yourself. She didn't tell anyone.'
Ordering the men to put the food on the table and fix the glasses, she grabbed the phone from Goten. She was greeted by an accusation.
Trunks looked forlornly at the cooling food, knowing they shouldn't start until Jita got there. "What's up with her, anyway?"
Goten sighed, his hands combing through his hair. "I don't know. Can never tell with her. First she's fine, then . . ."
Goten cut off. He didn't mean to eavesdrop, but Jita's words caught his ear.
". . . No, I haven't told him yet . . . no . . . I don't know . . . I don't know why I told you . . . no . . . I know . . . I'll tell him . . . dinner's getting cold . . . I said dinner is getting cold . . . I'm hanging up . . . OK Chichi . . . bye."
Trunks and Goten watched as Jita swept into the dining room, looking the picture of frustration. "Tell him what? Is him me?" Goten demanded.
Jita started, caught off guard. "No . . . nothing. It's nothing."
The air at the table was tense during the meal. 'I must have been braindead when I agreed to stay,' thought Trunks. This was more like a meal used to be at Capsule Corp. He hated it. Brought back too many memories. He had to break the silence. "So, how's the teaching going?"
Goten felt a bit guilty for putting Trunks through this, so he decided to play along. He'd been falsely cheerful practically his whole life; why not now? "It's great! I love the kids. How about you, Jita?"
"I'm pregnant."
The reactions were actually kind of priceless. Goten did a sort of double- take, his jaw dropping comically. Trunks eyes widened as he lamely said, "So, I guess that's a yes then." Trunks also received a glare from Jita, making him really wish he wasn't there.
Goten was still trying to get his bearings. "Jita . . . wow . . . how long have you known?"
Jita stared at him stubbornly. "Since this afternoon. Chichi told me what was happening to me. No one else knows . . . well, except you. And - Trunks?"
Trunks was heading for the door. "Gonna leave now. Can I tell anyone?"
Jita sighed. "Yeah, whatever. I'd really rather not tell anyone else. Unless . . ." she looked at Goten, but he simply stared at her. Trunks took this time for a hasty escape.
"Goten, say something."
Goten couldn't say anything. It was - so unreal. This wasn't happening to him. This wasn't happening to her. This didn't happen to young warriors, barely starting out their adult life. At least, he was just starting out anyway. Besides, they couldn't afford it. They still had debts, and with the payments were barely breaking even. They'd be feeding yet another Saiyan. And what did they know about raising a child? Goten had always had parental issues, and Jita - let's not go into that nightmare of a childhood. First raised by servants, then Vegeta . . . when he could be with her at all. What screwed up child could they produce? He wasn't ready to be a father? What if he was just like his own -
"Goten, I am afraid."
Fear. Kami, yet, that's what he was feeling. Pure diving panic. How were they going to get through this? Goten's mind was a blur. For the first time in a while, things were out of his control. He didn't know . . .
"GOTEN, SAY SOMETHING!"
He realized he was crying. The meal was sitting before them, long forgotten, tears sliding on to the plate. He cleared his throat and wiped his eyes angrily. "I'm sorry, Jita. It just caught me by surprise. I wasn't expecting-"
"I wasn't either," she said, now calmer.
"But, weren't you taking-"
"I talked with Dr. Russel," Jita interrupted. "You know, the one who knows about Saiyans. He said that the pills just didn't work for me like they work for the human women. We're lucky that it happened this late."
Goten looked up. "I'm sorry how I reacted."
Jita looked at him wearily. "Forget it. I reacted the same way."
The two sat in silence for a few minutes more, the constant drip from the faucet the only sound in the house. All the students who lived there had gone out for the evening, and Goten and Jita were alone. The two were lost in their own thoughts.
"Listen, Jita?"
Jita looked up sharply at the sound. "What?"
"I . . ." Goten paused to gather his thoughts. "I know we wanted to wait just a little longer, but it has been a little more than a year. We've had time to settle in, so maybe now is the time."
"Now will have to be the time."
Goten looked troubled at her response, until he saw the slight upward curve of her lips. He laughed nervously. This wouldn't be so bad after all. He smiled. "So. Boy or girl?"
Jita looked at him exasperatedly. "It's a fetus, Goten. We don't know yet."
Goten laughed. "I know that. I mean, what do you want?"
Jita scrunched her forehead. "What I really want is an easy pregnancy. Saiyan women are notorious for low fertility rates. It's because of ki."
"Ki?"
Jita sighed. "For the next ten months . . ."
"Eight months."
"No, ten months for Saiyans. As I was saying, for the next ten months, I cannot fight or utilize ki. I shouldn't have even flown around the kitchen tonight. Even the ki used for flying will kill the baby." Jita looked into Goten's eyes. "I don't want to take that risk."
Goten's eyes widened. "Don't worry. We can ask people to take your classes, or you can just oversee, or . . . We'll think of something." He gave Jita a reassuring smile, which actually did reassure her. "We'll be alright."
Jita smiled and forced some of the now cold food down her throat. Yes, they would be all right.
*****
Jita sighed in exasperation as she heard the door slam, heralding a crying Darjili. The girl's perennial cheerfulness had met its match.
"I'll be right back," Jita said to Chichi, who was teaching her how to knit. It wasn't that Jita couldn't buy clothes for her baby. The knitting got rid of some of Jita's nervous energy.
"Go ahead, dear," Chichi said cheerfully. "It'll give you good practice for my grandchild."
Jita closed her eyes in wry annoyance. Chichi never stopped talking about "her grandchild." It was really getting on Jita's nerves. She shook it off and walked into the library, where Darjili was huddled in a corner, sniffling.
"Darjili," Jita said softly. "Why do you let him get to you like that?"
Darjili just sniffled and wiped her tears angrily. "I wish he would just stop yelling at me."
"I yell at you."
Darjili smiled. "Yeah, but that's different. I know you don't really mean it personally."
Jita folded her arms. "And you think he does? He barely even knows you."
Darjili looked up with innocent green eyes. "When are you going to start teaching us again?"
Jita rubbed her temple. "Not for a while now. Now let's go talk to him."
Darjili rubbed her face, embarrassed by how blotchy it was, but followed Jita across the across the yard into the dojo. The comforting sound of yelling students greeted them - comforting to Jita because she knew that they were all working hard even in her relative absence. She actually missed teaching, but she'd gotten some good help. While Goten was still able to handle his three younger classes, three people were teaching each of her classes. She'd gotten Gohan to talk Piccolo into taking one of the classes. Though he would deny it to his dying day, Piccolo really was good with children. Goku was teaching another class. He was a born teacher, able to calmly explain, yet not put up with any foolishness during training. She'd wanted to maybe get some human warriors involved, but all of them were either retired or working, or both. So really all that was left was Piccolo, Goku, and . . .
"Vegeta."
Vegeta turned around from the advanced class to scowl at his sister, turning down the gravity to ten so that she could walk into the room - the maximum amount that she could handle without ki. The fact that Vegeta had to turn it DOWN to ten told her enough. He was driving them far harder than she ever had. He wasn't used to humans. Well, training humans anyway.
He turned his attention to Darjili. "Oh, so she decided to come back. Did you think you impressed anyone by your dramatic exit? You only embarrassed yourself in front of your peers."
Darjili's cheeks burned as she looked at the other students, all quickly averting their eyes. "I . . . I . . ."
"I'm sure," Jita stepped in, "that she didn't mean to make a scene, and that she won't again . . . What is it?"
Vegeta was staring hard at girl. "What is wrong with you, child?"
Darjili's eyes were starting to tear in irritation. "I . . . I . . . AAACHOOOO!!!"
Suddenly, there was a completely different girl in front of the two Saiyan royals. Instead of the blue hair and sweet face, her hair was blonde and she looked ready to go on a shooting spree. Which made it not very surprising that she whipped out an impressive firearm out of nowhere.
"All right, where am I?!" the strange girl said. "And who made me cry?! Someone had better answer me!"
Pecon held his hands in front of him, edging forward. "Is that you, Darjili? What hap-"
He was not able to get any more out. The girl chose that moment to start firing on the whole place. Of course, everyone in the room was on various stages of being bulletproof, but Jita was getting almost scared. Vegeta realized this, and moved into action. The shooting continued, the mysterious gun not running out of ammo, until Vegeta was able to wrench it out of the girl's grasp. He was also able to hold off the girl's attacks, though he noted that this girl seemed stronger than the girl she had replaced.
There was a rushing sound of feet, and in moments Goten, Goku, and Piccolo had run into the room. Piccolo stayed at the door to keep the younger students from crowding the room.
"What happened here?" Goten said, looking from the wide-eyed shocked students to the gun in Vegeta's hand to the strange blonde girl. "Who are you?"
"I am Darjili," the girl said, arms crossed and murderous look in place. But she knew when she was outclassed in strength, so she forced herself to calm down. "Wait, OK, I remember. You're Goten, you're Jita, and I'm a student at this dojo."
Vegeta was still looking at Darjili closely, gun long forgotten in his hand, though the grip was still strong enough to deter Darjili from getting it back. "Did she turn Super Saiyan? Or Super Human? She IS stronger."
"Hey!" Goku interjected. "I remember this. Did she sneeze right before she changed?'
Jita scowled. "Yes. But what does that have to do with anything?"
"It's just like Lunch!" Goku said cheerfully.
Vegeta rubbed his forehead. "Kakarrot, you were actually making sense for a moment, but then you started thinking about food. Learn to focus."
Goku laughed. "No! I mean a person. There was this girl named Lunch I used to know. She came to live at Master Roshi's house when I first started training there because I rescued her nice personality from the police that were trying to arrest her because her mean personality robbed a bank. She just changed whenever she sneezed. First she'd be nice, and then she'd be mean."
Danton smirked, seeming to regain himself. "So how is that different from girls in general?"
Krianan immediately took the bait. "I'll have you know-"
"Danton. Krianan," Jita interrupted. "Silence from both of you."
"Where did Lunch go?" Goten said. "I've never seen her."
Goku scratched his head. "I really don't know. Krillen told me she went out looking for Tien, because both personalities liked him. I never asked Tien if she found him."
"She did."
The group looked at Darjili in surprise. The blonde girl rolled her eyes, still irked at the fact that her gun was still being held from her by a man she was pretty sure had been rude to her. "Lunch is my mother. Tien is my father. They DO know that I'm in the city, attending school, but they don't know I'm studying martial arts. At least not yet."
"Why have we never seen you transform?" Goten asked.
"I'm very good at keeping from sneezing. I haven't changed into this personality around here at all, and I always seem to change back before I get here."
"So how were you able to remember our names and your situation?" Pan logically asked.
Darjili smirked. "I may have gotten the two personalities from my mother, but I'm not exactly like my mother. I'm still the same person with the same memories. I guess that's my father's influence. Good thing that's one of the few things I got from him. Hiding this transformation is hard enough, but imagine trying to hide another eye. I mean . . . I . . . AAACHHHOOO!!! . . . I . . . What happened?"
Before them, once again, was a wide-eyed, blue-haired Darjili. The gun in Vegeta's hand had disappeared, and the girl seemed to be trying to assimilate her situation. Realization dawned on her as she noticed everyone staring at her. She looked down, avoiding all eyes, and blushed. She was obviously extremely embarrassed.
Goten took the initiative, walking out of the room. "All right. Show's over everyone. Get back to class." At his words, the students obediently ran back their training rooms, silenced perhaps by the serious tone not usually present in Goten's voice. Piccolo encouraged a few of the stragglers to move it, going back to the class he was teaching. Goku took one more look at Darjili, and did likewise.
Jita took Darjili's shoulder. "Let's talk." Darjili nodded numbly. "I'll have her back in a few minutes," Jita added to Vegeta. Then the two left the room, heading for Jita's office.
When they arrived, Jita quickly sat down. Standing and moving around were starting to get harder. She wondered if it was the baby that was draining her energy. She supposed it didn't matter.
"Now," she began.
"Am I in trouble?" Darjili blurted out.
Jita couldn't help but laugh. The difference between her two personalities was astonishing. The blonde Darjili would have been hostile right off, instead of this pitiful supplication. "Don't be ridiculous, girl. Of course you're not in trouble. Why would you think that?"
Darjili shrugged. "I don't know. I guess . . . keeping secrets or shooting at people or something."
Jita smirked. "For one thing, you were endangering no one with that disappearing gun of yours. For another," Jita's face darkened. "Everyone is entitled to their secrets."
Darjili seemed relieved, but still she seemed nervous. "So, what happens now?"
"Well, you're going to have to tell your parents. They need to at least know where you've been living."
"OK," Darjili nodded.
"And," Jita continued, "you're going to have to spend some time in your other personality."
Darjili's eyes widened. "What? Why? She's so mean!"
Jita shook her head. "That's what I'm worried about. She's not another person. She's you. You must learn to control that side of you, or else you're going to sneeze around people that CAN be hurt by bullets."
Darjili sniffed. "I guess you're right. I HAVE almost killed someone before."
"My advice on that . . . Don't kill anyone." Jita paused. "It changes a person."
Darjili looked up and smiled. "Thank you. I'll talk to my parents tonight."
Jita broke out of her distraction. "Good. Now go back to your training. And don't let Vegeta get to you!" she yelled after her.
"I won't!" Darjili yelled back, running down the hallway.
Jita buried her face in her hands in fatigue. Yet another thing to worry about. A student of her dojo killing innocent bystanders. That would ruin too many people's lives. Jita smirked. This so-called free life tended to produce a lot of worry and responsibility. Typical.
"You handled that well."
Chichi walked into the room, knitting needles in hand. Jita offered no response. Chichi furrowed her brow in concern. "Jita?"
"Huh? What?" Jita broke out of her thoughts. "Oh. Thanks. I had to do something."
Chichi was still concerned. "Is the voice bothering you again?" she said hesitantly.
Jita cocked her head in confusion. "What? Oh, that. No, I was just thinking." She paused, and then smiled slightly. "Actually, the voice hasn't bothered me for a long time."
Chichi sat in the chair opposite Jita. "Why do you think that is? Has it gotten bored with you?"
"No. He won't get bored with me. It's not that."
"Then what is it?"
Jita again smiled softly. "I think it's the child. I think he can't bother me with the child inside of me."
Chichi's eyes went all sparkly. "That's so wonderful. But what about when you have the child."
Jita laughed. "I expect things to go back to normal. At least, normal for me anyway."
But Chichi interpreted the look in Jita's eyes. "Jita, you'll do fine. You handle your students wonderfully, far better than I thought you would. You're going to be a wonderful mother."
Jita stared at Chichi with the most serious expression on her face. "I hope you're right, Chichi. 'Cause I couldn't bear to have my child suffer like most Saiyan children have suffered."
Chichi nodded in understanding. "Even the most conscientious of parents can't protect their children from everything. I tried, but I never could. Even if I had kept my training up and become a fighter, it wouldn't have helped. I've come to accept that now. But for your sake, and my grandchild's sake, I hope you can. Now," Chichi stood up. "Let's go back in the house. I got that catalogue with the nursery decorations. And I brought a name book. My grandchild needs a name."
Jita laughed in her throat. "All right. Fine, Chichi." She got up. "But I think it's too early for any of that."
"Nonsense," Chichi said.
Chichi continued talking as they walked down the hall. Jita couldn't resist looking in on her advanced class. She did a sort of double-take. There, going one on one with Pan, was a blonde Darjili. As the two broke apart, Darjili turned to Jita and winked before going back to her match.
*****
Months passed. Jita had stopped getting angry at people for feeling her belly. She'd finally stopped getting irritated at the little Saiyan kicking her from the inside. She had NOT gotten used to not being able to fight . . . or fly . . . or use her ki in any way. She'd finally gotten Goten to put all her kitchen supplies crowded on lower shelves. What really bothered her is that he didn't even have to levitate to get the things. Why did everyone have to be so tall?
Jita was getting nervous. It was getting about time to have the kid, and she was torn between wanting it out of her now, and wanting to keep it in her. As long as the baby was in her, the voice didn't bother her. But having the baby was so inconvenient . . . and painful. She was tired all the time, she had no stamina, she had the weirdest cravings, and she was actually getting emotional. No wonder Saiyan women rarely reproduced. Body and mind seemed to be in constant mutiny. The only thing that was getting her through this with the little sanity she already had was Goten, and even he drove her crazy.
The baby shower had been embarrassing. Since there was no Saiyan equivalent of the tradition, the entire thing was done following human customs. The cake with the frosting that was too sweet. The chalky pastel mints. The disgusting punch made with pineapple and 7up. The gifts that were all in yellow. It was the most ludicrously cute experience that Jita had ever gone through. And the worst thing was, she couldn't torture the men by making them come. It was for women only. But somehow she got through it.
She had become an object of curiosity for the students. Many times she would have to refer a child to their parents when the child asked how Jita had gotten like that. The most embarrassing time was when Pecon asked. Being a monk, he had no experience with such things. Thankfully, Goten had the presence of mind to take Pecon aside and talk with him. Pecon had been very quiet since then. Jita just hoped he hadn't been scarred for life.
Jita sighed, climbing up the ladder with difficulty to put up her books. She knew that Goten tried, but she like to keep her library tidy. She didn't want to ruin the nice books, and she always wanted to know where to find them. But Goten was trying, she had to give him that. He was at the grocery store right now, a job that was usually hers. She looked at her watch. It was getting about time for him to be finished. She shook her head. Men. They were so extremely helpless.
Jita gasped, clutching her stomach suddenly. That was unexpected. She climbed down the ladder, just to be on the safe side. While she had never adopted that philosophy for herself, she wasn't worried about herself. She was worried about the child.
As she was sitting down to recover from the contraction, Jita noticed she had left her diary on the table. She frowned. She didn't want to leave it out in the open. She had given the children permission to read anything on the lower shelves and the tables, but she didn't want any of them reading that. It was too personal, and it was too graphic. She had recorded some of her more unpleasant thoughts and experiences in the document. She usually kept it on the highest shelf, in her private collection. 'Well,' she though, 'no harm in putting one more book up there.'
She put the book under her arm, moved the ladder over to the appropriate shelf, and climbed up there. She had put it among some books that would be pretty boring to younger readers. Smiling with satisfaction, she started to climb down.
Suddenly, the world exploded in pain. Jita couldn't think and she couldn't move. The pain was enough to make her pass out. As she fell to the ground, her last conscious thought was, 'Figures.'
*****
"Sensei?"
Pecon walked through the house, searching for Jita. He was going to pretend that he wanted to ask her something, but really he just wanted to check up on her. Ever since the talk he'd had with Goten, he'd been afraid for Jita's well-being. He understood the miracle of life, but still couldn't help but think that it must be dangerous to have another person growing inside of you. His suspicions had been confirmed as he saw Jita gradually going through more and more pain and fatigue. Why any woman would want to go through all that was beyond him. He'd asked the girls in his class this very question. Darjili (in blonde form) had just shrugged and said that it was just something most women went through, and it was necessary. Krianan had simply launched into a tirade about how it was unfair that women had to go through so much pain and men got off easy. Pecon had wisely dropped the subject, not wanting Krianan to forever label him as a chauvinist. Better to keep the peace.
"Sensei?" he repeated, walking into the library. As he took in everything, he panicked. Jita seemed to just now be coming to. She looked up at him weakly, but she had cut her face and the blood was getting in her eyes; she couldn't see properly.
"Goten?" she asked weakly. "Goten, are you there? I think it's time."
Pecon had the presence of mind to do a quick ki-search, and realized he was the only one around. He remembered that Goten had gone to the store. He panicked, frozen in place and mute with fear. That is, until she started screaming.
"GOTEN!! MAKE IT STOP!!!"
Pecon suddenly pushed aside his fear. Maybe it was his fearless invincible sensei screaming on the floor that made him snap, but it was enough. He picked her up carefully and started flying to the hospital, the calming defense mechanism in his brain making him remember exactly where the hospital was. "Don't worry. You'll be fine," he reassured woman. She didn't respond, lost in the pain.
He touched down in front of the hospital, ignoring the amazed people pointing at him. Nearly missing a few elderly people coming out of the doors, he ran in and rushed up to the nurse's station. "Help me," he said simply.
The efficient orderlies quickly relieved Pecon of his burden. He watched them roll her away, barely aware of the nurse talking to him.
"Sir," she said insistently, getting Pecon's attention. "What is the patient's name?"
"Um," he took a minute to get his brain back into focus. Now that the immediate danger was passed, he was starting to feel the fear growing back in his stomach. "Jita. Her name is Son Jita."
The nurse typed it into the computer. "Right," she said slowly. She quickly dialed a phone number. "Tell Dr. Russel that his "Saiyan" patient is in the maternity ward." She hung up the phone and smiled at Pecon. "What relation are you to the patient, sir?"
"Um, I just a student of hers. I . . . I have to get Goten! He was at the grocery store."
Pecon turned on his heels, despite the nurse's calls for him to come back, and ran into something that knocked him off his feet. He looked up, and was extremely relieved to see Goten. Goten quickly picked him up. "Where is she?" he asked, white-faced.
"Sir," the nurse asked, "are you Mr. Son?"
"Yes," he responded. "Where's my wife?"
"She's all right," the nurse reassured him. "All I need for you to do is to fill out this one sheet and I'll get someone to take you to her room."
Goten filled out the paper as quickly as he could with shaking hands. Pecon approached Goten cautiously. "Sensei? Is there anything you want me to do?"
Goten added a shaky signature at the bottom, checking his watch for the date. He realized he would be remembering that very date for his child's birthday. "Yeah, Pecon. I want you to go to Capsule Corp and tell Vegeta and Bulma what's happening. They can get in touch with everyone else. Then I want you to go back to the dojo and tell anyone who shows up that all classes are cancelled until they hear back from me."
"Yes, sensei," Pecon answered, grateful that he had a way to help them.
As Pecon was leaving, Goten stopped him. "Thank you for taking care of Jita," he said to the monk quietly. Pecon merely nodded, and left.
Goten smiled at the retreating boy. Thank Kami he had been there. Goten had not been sure if he would be able to get there in time. He had not, in fact, gone to the grocery store. He had been visiting his old training ground in the wilderness, seeing if the area had been at all healed, as well as going somewhere to clear his mind. Why was it the one time that he had taken a break in his constant vigilance when he was the most needed.
"Mr. Son?"
Goten turned to the orderly. He sighed and followed him. He just hoped that Jita would be all right.
*****
"WAAAHHHHH!!!!!!!"
The boy laid in his mother's arms, his cries finally ending. Jita had paled to an unnatural pallor - Saiyan births were always difficult - but she was fine. Would recover in a few hours.
After all the necessary procedures, the nurses quickly vacated the rapidly filling room. Goku and Chichi, of course, as well as Bulma and Vegeta. Pecon, having left the responsibility for the dojo with Darjili, had already walked in, demanding to know if Jita was all right. When Jita had found out what the boy had done for her, she had insisted that he come in. He was now sitting in the corner quietly, not having anything to do and not wanting to intrude, yet not wanting to leave either.
The group stared at the already sleeping child. Goten sat at the side of the bed, regarding each expression. Chichi was weeping, obviously remembering the birth of her own children - and her granddaughter. Goku and Bulma were taunting each other about being old: Goku the grandfather, Bulma the aunt (and the elder of the two). Goten could sense his father was a little weirded out by becoming a grandfather again. And Vegeta was just staring at Jita and the baby, almost in disbelief.
But when Jita shifted the child so everyone could see him, all taunting and reminiscing ended. Leave it to Goku to break the spell. "Hey, Vegeta, he looks just like you."
As a Saiyan, the child was born with a full head of hair that was rapidly gaining its stiffness. The hair was forming into the distinctive style of Vegeta, with a few variations: the hair was more of the pure black of Goten's hair than brown, and he had bangs covering the significantly smaller widow's peak, more along the lines of Jita's hairline. His face, too, though it was actually just a male version of Jita's features. Vegeta, along with everyone else, was a little more than weirded out. "I see no similarity," Vegeta retorted, though he was proud of the resemblance.
Chichi shook her head. "I don't either. He looks more like my Goten. Have you finally chosen a name?"
Jita rolled her eyes. "Not this again," she said weakly.
"No really," said Bulma. "I know that Saiyans don't even consider names until after birth, so that means now is the time. What name tradition are you going to use? You could always use my family's name tradition, since I don't think Trunks will ever find a wife."
Goten laughed. "Underwear names? Not thanks. Maybe more like my family's tradition . . ."
Vegeta cut him off. "Kami, another 'Go' name. What are you going to name him, Gonad?"
Everyone laughed, except Goku. "I don't get it."
Vegeta smirked at him. "You wouldn't. Besides, he should have a Saiyan name. He is mostly Saiyan, after all."
Chichi shuddered at the thought. "If you think my grandson is going to have a vegetable name . . ."
"His proper traditional Saiyan name would be Vegeta, following the royal bloodline," Jita interrupted, getting weird looks from everyone except her brother.
"That would be confusing, especially when he grew up. I mean, look at him," Bulma commented. Everyone stared at the child, whose hair had now finished stiffening into an almost exact replica of all the Vegeta's before him.
"I don't see why a name is so important. It doesn't mean anything," Bulma continued.
Vegeta regarded his mate. "For a Saiyan, a name means more than that."
"Vegeta's right," Jita said in a slightly stronger voice. "Every name can be translated into a characteristic, a feeling, an attitude, a saying, a philosophy . . . anything that reflects the parents or what the child would become. Like, the name 'Vegeta' means 'pride'; that could be translated s his defining characteristic - as well as his father's - or the pride of his family and his people, or a representation of the Saiyan race in general . . . it means all of these things at the same time."
Bulma cast a sidelong glance at Vegeta. "That's fitting."
Vegeta chose to take this as a compliment. After all, it was true. "Some Saiyans weren't that imaginative. The most common name was 'Nappa,' meaning 'warrior'."
Jita started chuckling to herself. "And some weren't very accurate or prophetic. After all, Bardock named his eldest 'Radditz'."
At the two royal Saiyans' amused expressions, Goten asked, "What does that name mean?"
Jita looked up at her husband with a dead-pan expression. "Intelligence."
After the laughter died down from people who actually got the joke, Goku couldn't stand it any longer. He didn't usually ask about his Saiyan heritage, but since Vegeta and Jita were momentarily being so open about it, he decided to take advantage of the opportunity. "What does my name mean?"
Jita quickly composed herself. "You actually have an extremely good name, almost on par with 'Vegeta.' Your name encompasses the entire Saiyan philosophy - our way of life. I don't know why you don't go by that name, Kakarrot. It's much better than Goku. Vegeta, I can't think of a good translation. You're better at this language than I am."
Vegeta paused for a moment, then said, "I fight to live; I live to fight."
Chichi took the moment of silence as an opportunity to pick up the so-far nameless baby. Jita reluctantly relinquished the child, although it did give her some time to rest. She was more exhausted than she realized, too tired to use her healing techniques without passing out. Chichi smiled as she cuddled the baby close to her, happy to have another grandchild. "And what does 'Jita' mean?"
Jita frowned, as Vegeta said automatically, if unconvincingly, "I don't remember."
"No, brother, it's alright," Jita said. "You don't have to lie for me. I've come to terms with it." She addressed the others. "You have to remember that I was born without a tail." She paused, smiling thankfully at the dark brown furry tail curling around Chichi's wrist. Chichi was smiling, too. Gohan had done the same thing as a baby. "That was traditionally a point of shame on Planet Vegeta. My father even tried to have me killed, but my mother wouldn't have it. Instead, I was not given the titles of both princess and warrior, even though my birthright entitled me to the former and my power level and race entitled me to the latter. I was also given the name 'Jita,' the opposite of 'Vegeta.' The name means 'shame' and 'dishonor,' and well as 'weak'." Jita smirked, not acknowledging the fact that Goten was holding her hand in comfort. "The legacy my father gave me."
The room was tense with uncomfortable silence. Chichi knew Jita would hate the pity she was feeling, but she couldn't help it. The girl's whole life had been spent fighting that legacy encompassed in her name. Chichi was then shocked out of her thoughts when she realized the baby was awake, and looking at her. He was already showing intelligence even though he was less than a day old, like all Saiyan babies she'd seen. Chichi had been confused at the birth of Krillen's baby, as well as her early years. She hadn't realized how a normal human matures, and had been convinced that Marron's strange parentage (she hadn't trusted Eighteen very much at the time) had caused the girl to be a bit mentally impaired. Chichi guessed Saiyans needed to mature quickly in their society so they could fight. Still, the fact that humans couldn't comprehend algebra and other academics at the age of three was strange to her. "My grandson still needs a name," she said aloud to herself, breaking the silence.
Goten shook his head. "I can't think. He's both human and Saiyan, but we can't name him Vegeta."
For one of those rare times, Goku had a good idea about something that was not fighting. "Hey, I have two names - one Saiyan and one human. Why can't we do the same for him?"
When everyone recovered from the shock of Goku having a good idea, they all agreed. "Very well," Vegeta spoke. "His Saiyan name will be Vegeta, and he will carry on the royal name. But we will call him by a human name to avoid confusion."
This didn't solve the problem, but it pacified the two Saiyan royals. The group began to ponder a good human name. Chichi reluctantly handed baby Vegeta over to Bulma. Bulma looked at the child closely. "You know, he kind of looks more like Gotenks, except for the hair coloration. I always thought Gotenks looked like Vegeta."
Chichi laughed. "Certainly acted like it. Of course, he got that cockiness from the Trunks half."
Vegeta's eyes narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Chichi faced him off. "It means Gotenks ignored everyone else and went off to fight Buu and underestimated him and got severely beaten up. Remind you of someone? Goten would never do that."
"Woman . . ." Vegeta said warningly.
"I've got it!" Goten fortunately interrupted the ensuing argument.
"Got what?" Jita said, slightly disappointed. She'd wanted to hear the argument.
"A fusion name. Between us. Something like, I don't know, Gota."
Jita shook her head. "I don't want another 'Go' name, and it sounds too feminine."
"Alright," Goten said, still thinking, not ready to give up his idea. After all, Jita got to pick the Saiyan name. He wanted to pick the human name. "How about Jiten."
And once again, everyone looked at the child. His eyes had been focusing on each person speaking, as if he was following the conversation. Slowly, his mouth started forming around a word.
"Ji . . . t . . . ten . . ."
The group stared at the child in awe. "Well, I guess it's decided," Goku said quietly.
Jita was not so surprised. She smiled proudly at her son as he was put back in her arms. "Yes. His name is Jiten."
*****
Author's Notes: Thanks to all my reviewers: Dark Wolf (bet you didn't expect this plot twist. Oh, and congrats on the new chapter. I feel for you on the too much work. Even an unworthy English major has no life around mid-terms. Hence, I have had no time until this Saturday to finish my chapter. But I don't EVEN complain to CS students or Engineering students. At my university, the main focus is Engineering and Architecture. If you start complaining about how much work you have to do, they'll take your head off. They're just that crazy and overworked.), tim333 (Thanks for your 2 reviews. I love your reviews. You're always so informative - and flattering, but I like criticism too. Major kudos for your latest chapter of Only Human. I'm just wondering if you're going to have some memories of Krillen being dead, or explain why he wasn't effected by that wish that brought everyone back to life, or what. Anyway.), aqua- illusion (heh-heh. Foil hats. I need to watch "Signs" again. Don't worry. Jita still reads, but she doesn't want to do the scholarly stuff for a living. She likes to fight too much.), and last, but not least, Omega (the story actually isn't that long. It just seems long because of the many short chapters at the beginning, back when I was first truly learning how to write fiction stories, and the time-scale. It does span a really huge amount of time, and I skip around to the really important stuff. I just have a few more chapters to get to the finale, and then the finale will take up a lot of chapters. I guess this really is the equivalent of a novel. And if I keep typing, this acknowledgement is going to be a novel. Cheerio.)
The next chapter is all from scratch, but I'll try to get it out as soon as possible.
Author's Notes: I'm literally dead from mid-terms. Well, I was. Then I got King Kai to ask some people to gather the dragonballs and bring me back to life, so here I am. (she pauses and realizes how pathetically detached from reality she sounds) Anyway. I think you'll find this chapter worth waiting for. It's long, with some very interesting developments. Enjoy!
*****
Chapter 30: What's in a Name?
"Good. And again? Good. And again? NO!"
The abrupt noise shook the four humans and one demi-Saiyan out of their stupors. Two hours of training at twice Earth's gravity, and they were starting to feel it, at least, all except Pan. But they couldn't tell this to the Wicked Witch of Satan City. Not if they wanted to run another hundred laps.
This was why Jita wasn't teaching the younger ones.
She'd started out teaching a few younger ones, but she didn't have the patience. Goten, on the other hand, had infinite patience with children, and now taught the beginner courses, leaving the advanced for Jita. The only problem was . . .
"You've been taught all wrong!" Jita was continuing to rant to her most advanced class. "Forget everything and do what I say! Otherwise you're wasting your time here!" Jita paused to regard her students. Seeing how tired the humans were, she set them to ki-control exercises for another hour and left the room.
Jita picked up a paper labeled "Advanced Class" and began to write comments under each name. She sighed and shook her head. She knew she was being hard on them, and exaggerating their faults just a little. But she couldn't let them get too cocky, especially Pan. A lot of this was elementary for Pan, and she sometimes scoffed at doing "the basics." But Jita put her through it anyway, since she saw a few flaws in the child's technique.
The humans weren't so bad. At least it was better teaching them than the small children. Yes, it was wise of Goten to take over that age group. He was much more patient with the childish antics that Jita found distracting. So Jita found herself teaching far fewer students, yet each of the older students had much more class time than the children. It pretty much evened out.
Jita shook off a twinge in her stomach and focused on the sheet in front of her, as well as carefully monitored her student's ki levels. Jita had become much more adept in sensing ki, especially the five students in her highest class. There was Pan, and then two males and two females all between the ages of fourteen and seventeen. They had all had former martial arts training, which was the biggest problem Jita ran in to. One of the males - Danto - refused to admit when he was in the wrong and constantly quoted his former sensei. He wasn't as bad as when he first came in, mostly because one of the girls had dealt him a humiliating defeat, but there was still some arrogance.
On the other side of the coin, there was the humble Pecon. While he was respectful, he was also self-effacing - well, more like self-deprecating. He had almost no self-esteem. He was a young monk from, coincidentally, the Orinji temple. He had heard tales of another monk leaving the temple and becoming very powerful. So the boy followed in that monk's footsteps and went to find the Turtle Master. Of course, he had not known that the old sensei was dead, and instead he found his role model Krillen. Krillen refused to train the boy on the grounds that he had completely retired from fighting and was too involved with his own family. He told the boy to train at Jita and Goten's dojo, so here he was. He was one of their few full-time students, since he had to live at the dojo. They'd been working a long time to get his self-confidence up, but Pecon was convinced that he wasn't very powerful. He was actually the second strongest in the class, since Pan was there, but he could never get a clear-cut victory over anyone. He was too convinced that he should lose. Though she couldn't understand his motivation, she still tried to help him.
Jita focused her attention on the girls. Krianan was, well . . . Jita liked her. The girl has the quintessential militant feminist. It was just sort of refreshing to see a girl stand up for herself and all other women in a society that bred weak-willed women. Krianan was the one that beat Danton the first day. She'd told Jita that she'd learned martial arts just to show that it wasn't just a man's field. She was always angry about something. There was just something about her that reminded Jita of herself, so she pretty much took Krianan under her wing. Krianan didn't live there, but she spent most of her time there anyway.
The last girl was named Darjili. She was the most cheerful kid Jita had ever seen. The girl had wavy blue hair and green eyes. She also lived at the dojo, claiming that her home was too far away to commute. She kept this home a secret. If the girl wasn't so happy, then Jita would have been worried. As it was, Jita wasn't worried about her at all, and let Darjili keep her secrets if she wanted to.
Jita made her notes and put her head on the table over them. Why was she so exhausted? She just felt drained of all energy. A suspicion was beginning to form in her mind, but she kept thinking it was impossible. She'd taken precautions and everything. She didn't want to have to deal with this right now. A sharp pain was hitting her stomach, accompanied by a wave of nausea. After a few seconds of controlled breathing, she thought she had it under control.
Until she ran to the restroom and puked her guts out.
*****
'Today . . . was fun.'
Goten sat on the couch, looking over the notes he'd taken - evaluations of each student. He couldn't believe how much he loved teaching those little ones. They were so trusting . . . it almost made you feel like a god . . . and scared to death that you'd screw everything up. Yes, he'd definitely made the right choice in teaching the beginners.
He looked at his wife's (could he ever get used to that?) notes in curiosity. She was rather critical of her students, not used to dealing with those of human strength. She handled three classes, like him, and each were rather small. They were a young school yet, and still had to build a reputation. The most advanced had only five members. One of them, he'd been surprised to see, was Pan. She was already a pretty good fighter, but maybe she couldn't resist having access to the training equipment. Or perhaps she wished to learn from a strong female fighter. Girls were funny that way.
Speaking of which, Jita was acting a bit strange. Angrier than usual. She'd canceled a class that afternoon and left without saying a word. So extremely unlike her. If she was anything, she was responsible. Come to think of it, she'd been acting strangely a lot lately.
"Watcha doing?"
Goten jumped literally six feet in the air, banging his head on the living room ceiling. Rubbing his head, he turned to seen his purple-haired childhood friend. "What's wrong with you?! Don't sneak up on me like that!"
Trunks laughed evilly. "You should be more on your guard, Mr. Super Saiyan 3."
"I'm not used to being attacked in my own house. And who invited you in?" Goten replied shortly.
"What do you think I am, a vampire? I come and go as I please."
Goten laughed. He hadn't spoken to Trunks in a while. Been too busy. "So, how's . . . whatever it is you've been doing?"
Trunks plopped down on an adjacent chair. "I've been going insane. But Mom loves it now that I'm taking over the business part of Capsule Corp. She was not that adept at it. You know, she lost millions of zeni in bad business deals. I . . ."
Trunks was cut off by a certain glaring presence from the doorway. Without a word, Jita swept past the two men, grabbed her notes, and took them into the adjoining dining room.
"Hello Jita," Trunks said reluctantly, much to Goten's chagrin. When she was like this, it was best not to speak to her.
Her glare deepened, and the two men wilted under the intensity. But just when she looked like she was going to go into a tirade, she calmly said, "Trunks, are you staying for supper?"
Trunks shifted uneasily. "Um . . . yeah, sure."
Jita put her notes down and walked into the kitchen. Trunks eyes his friend. "What was that about?"
Goten was curious as well. Maybe the voice was bothering her more. He had to know if it was. Giving Trunks a look, he walked into the kitchen to be greeted by the clanging of pots and pans. Jita was floating all over the kitchen, her ability to fly overcoming the difficulties of reaching things inherent to her height. She usually didn't like him in the kitchen when she was cooking, but it was a risk he had to take. "Jita, what's wrong?"
Jita whirled around, a flash of panic in her eyes. She quickly recovered. "Nothing's wrong. Now, out of the kitchen. Go talk to Trunks."
'Oh, well,' he thought. 'I'll have to wait until she's ready. Besides, she'd tell me about the voice. No, it's something else.'
Jita watched him go, and continued cooking, trying to concentrate on the meal.
'Chicken is done, peas are on the stove, rice is almost done, rolls in the oven, tea is made, exactly how am I going to tell him.'
Jita was worrying herself sick - no . . . maybe it wasn't worry that was making her sick. But she still worried, all through setting the table and finishing the food preparations. She'd had to deal with new situations continually since she'd been reincarnated, but this . . . was quite overwhelming.
"Goten! Answer the phone!" Jita yelled, knowing he wouldn't without prompting. She pulled the chicken out of the oven and set if on the table.
"Jita! Mom wants to talk to you!"
'Chichi! Oh, no! Suppose she'd blabbed it out without thinking. No, Jita. Calm yourself. She didn't tell anyone.'
Ordering the men to put the food on the table and fix the glasses, she grabbed the phone from Goten. She was greeted by an accusation.
Trunks looked forlornly at the cooling food, knowing they shouldn't start until Jita got there. "What's up with her, anyway?"
Goten sighed, his hands combing through his hair. "I don't know. Can never tell with her. First she's fine, then . . ."
Goten cut off. He didn't mean to eavesdrop, but Jita's words caught his ear.
". . . No, I haven't told him yet . . . no . . . I don't know . . . I don't know why I told you . . . no . . . I know . . . I'll tell him . . . dinner's getting cold . . . I said dinner is getting cold . . . I'm hanging up . . . OK Chichi . . . bye."
Trunks and Goten watched as Jita swept into the dining room, looking the picture of frustration. "Tell him what? Is him me?" Goten demanded.
Jita started, caught off guard. "No . . . nothing. It's nothing."
The air at the table was tense during the meal. 'I must have been braindead when I agreed to stay,' thought Trunks. This was more like a meal used to be at Capsule Corp. He hated it. Brought back too many memories. He had to break the silence. "So, how's the teaching going?"
Goten felt a bit guilty for putting Trunks through this, so he decided to play along. He'd been falsely cheerful practically his whole life; why not now? "It's great! I love the kids. How about you, Jita?"
"I'm pregnant."
The reactions were actually kind of priceless. Goten did a sort of double- take, his jaw dropping comically. Trunks eyes widened as he lamely said, "So, I guess that's a yes then." Trunks also received a glare from Jita, making him really wish he wasn't there.
Goten was still trying to get his bearings. "Jita . . . wow . . . how long have you known?"
Jita stared at him stubbornly. "Since this afternoon. Chichi told me what was happening to me. No one else knows . . . well, except you. And - Trunks?"
Trunks was heading for the door. "Gonna leave now. Can I tell anyone?"
Jita sighed. "Yeah, whatever. I'd really rather not tell anyone else. Unless . . ." she looked at Goten, but he simply stared at her. Trunks took this time for a hasty escape.
"Goten, say something."
Goten couldn't say anything. It was - so unreal. This wasn't happening to him. This wasn't happening to her. This didn't happen to young warriors, barely starting out their adult life. At least, he was just starting out anyway. Besides, they couldn't afford it. They still had debts, and with the payments were barely breaking even. They'd be feeding yet another Saiyan. And what did they know about raising a child? Goten had always had parental issues, and Jita - let's not go into that nightmare of a childhood. First raised by servants, then Vegeta . . . when he could be with her at all. What screwed up child could they produce? He wasn't ready to be a father? What if he was just like his own -
"Goten, I am afraid."
Fear. Kami, yet, that's what he was feeling. Pure diving panic. How were they going to get through this? Goten's mind was a blur. For the first time in a while, things were out of his control. He didn't know . . .
"GOTEN, SAY SOMETHING!"
He realized he was crying. The meal was sitting before them, long forgotten, tears sliding on to the plate. He cleared his throat and wiped his eyes angrily. "I'm sorry, Jita. It just caught me by surprise. I wasn't expecting-"
"I wasn't either," she said, now calmer.
"But, weren't you taking-"
"I talked with Dr. Russel," Jita interrupted. "You know, the one who knows about Saiyans. He said that the pills just didn't work for me like they work for the human women. We're lucky that it happened this late."
Goten looked up. "I'm sorry how I reacted."
Jita looked at him wearily. "Forget it. I reacted the same way."
The two sat in silence for a few minutes more, the constant drip from the faucet the only sound in the house. All the students who lived there had gone out for the evening, and Goten and Jita were alone. The two were lost in their own thoughts.
"Listen, Jita?"
Jita looked up sharply at the sound. "What?"
"I . . ." Goten paused to gather his thoughts. "I know we wanted to wait just a little longer, but it has been a little more than a year. We've had time to settle in, so maybe now is the time."
"Now will have to be the time."
Goten looked troubled at her response, until he saw the slight upward curve of her lips. He laughed nervously. This wouldn't be so bad after all. He smiled. "So. Boy or girl?"
Jita looked at him exasperatedly. "It's a fetus, Goten. We don't know yet."
Goten laughed. "I know that. I mean, what do you want?"
Jita scrunched her forehead. "What I really want is an easy pregnancy. Saiyan women are notorious for low fertility rates. It's because of ki."
"Ki?"
Jita sighed. "For the next ten months . . ."
"Eight months."
"No, ten months for Saiyans. As I was saying, for the next ten months, I cannot fight or utilize ki. I shouldn't have even flown around the kitchen tonight. Even the ki used for flying will kill the baby." Jita looked into Goten's eyes. "I don't want to take that risk."
Goten's eyes widened. "Don't worry. We can ask people to take your classes, or you can just oversee, or . . . We'll think of something." He gave Jita a reassuring smile, which actually did reassure her. "We'll be alright."
Jita smiled and forced some of the now cold food down her throat. Yes, they would be all right.
*****
Jita sighed in exasperation as she heard the door slam, heralding a crying Darjili. The girl's perennial cheerfulness had met its match.
"I'll be right back," Jita said to Chichi, who was teaching her how to knit. It wasn't that Jita couldn't buy clothes for her baby. The knitting got rid of some of Jita's nervous energy.
"Go ahead, dear," Chichi said cheerfully. "It'll give you good practice for my grandchild."
Jita closed her eyes in wry annoyance. Chichi never stopped talking about "her grandchild." It was really getting on Jita's nerves. She shook it off and walked into the library, where Darjili was huddled in a corner, sniffling.
"Darjili," Jita said softly. "Why do you let him get to you like that?"
Darjili just sniffled and wiped her tears angrily. "I wish he would just stop yelling at me."
"I yell at you."
Darjili smiled. "Yeah, but that's different. I know you don't really mean it personally."
Jita folded her arms. "And you think he does? He barely even knows you."
Darjili looked up with innocent green eyes. "When are you going to start teaching us again?"
Jita rubbed her temple. "Not for a while now. Now let's go talk to him."
Darjili rubbed her face, embarrassed by how blotchy it was, but followed Jita across the across the yard into the dojo. The comforting sound of yelling students greeted them - comforting to Jita because she knew that they were all working hard even in her relative absence. She actually missed teaching, but she'd gotten some good help. While Goten was still able to handle his three younger classes, three people were teaching each of her classes. She'd gotten Gohan to talk Piccolo into taking one of the classes. Though he would deny it to his dying day, Piccolo really was good with children. Goku was teaching another class. He was a born teacher, able to calmly explain, yet not put up with any foolishness during training. She'd wanted to maybe get some human warriors involved, but all of them were either retired or working, or both. So really all that was left was Piccolo, Goku, and . . .
"Vegeta."
Vegeta turned around from the advanced class to scowl at his sister, turning down the gravity to ten so that she could walk into the room - the maximum amount that she could handle without ki. The fact that Vegeta had to turn it DOWN to ten told her enough. He was driving them far harder than she ever had. He wasn't used to humans. Well, training humans anyway.
He turned his attention to Darjili. "Oh, so she decided to come back. Did you think you impressed anyone by your dramatic exit? You only embarrassed yourself in front of your peers."
Darjili's cheeks burned as she looked at the other students, all quickly averting their eyes. "I . . . I . . ."
"I'm sure," Jita stepped in, "that she didn't mean to make a scene, and that she won't again . . . What is it?"
Vegeta was staring hard at girl. "What is wrong with you, child?"
Darjili's eyes were starting to tear in irritation. "I . . . I . . . AAACHOOOO!!!"
Suddenly, there was a completely different girl in front of the two Saiyan royals. Instead of the blue hair and sweet face, her hair was blonde and she looked ready to go on a shooting spree. Which made it not very surprising that she whipped out an impressive firearm out of nowhere.
"All right, where am I?!" the strange girl said. "And who made me cry?! Someone had better answer me!"
Pecon held his hands in front of him, edging forward. "Is that you, Darjili? What hap-"
He was not able to get any more out. The girl chose that moment to start firing on the whole place. Of course, everyone in the room was on various stages of being bulletproof, but Jita was getting almost scared. Vegeta realized this, and moved into action. The shooting continued, the mysterious gun not running out of ammo, until Vegeta was able to wrench it out of the girl's grasp. He was also able to hold off the girl's attacks, though he noted that this girl seemed stronger than the girl she had replaced.
There was a rushing sound of feet, and in moments Goten, Goku, and Piccolo had run into the room. Piccolo stayed at the door to keep the younger students from crowding the room.
"What happened here?" Goten said, looking from the wide-eyed shocked students to the gun in Vegeta's hand to the strange blonde girl. "Who are you?"
"I am Darjili," the girl said, arms crossed and murderous look in place. But she knew when she was outclassed in strength, so she forced herself to calm down. "Wait, OK, I remember. You're Goten, you're Jita, and I'm a student at this dojo."
Vegeta was still looking at Darjili closely, gun long forgotten in his hand, though the grip was still strong enough to deter Darjili from getting it back. "Did she turn Super Saiyan? Or Super Human? She IS stronger."
"Hey!" Goku interjected. "I remember this. Did she sneeze right before she changed?'
Jita scowled. "Yes. But what does that have to do with anything?"
"It's just like Lunch!" Goku said cheerfully.
Vegeta rubbed his forehead. "Kakarrot, you were actually making sense for a moment, but then you started thinking about food. Learn to focus."
Goku laughed. "No! I mean a person. There was this girl named Lunch I used to know. She came to live at Master Roshi's house when I first started training there because I rescued her nice personality from the police that were trying to arrest her because her mean personality robbed a bank. She just changed whenever she sneezed. First she'd be nice, and then she'd be mean."
Danton smirked, seeming to regain himself. "So how is that different from girls in general?"
Krianan immediately took the bait. "I'll have you know-"
"Danton. Krianan," Jita interrupted. "Silence from both of you."
"Where did Lunch go?" Goten said. "I've never seen her."
Goku scratched his head. "I really don't know. Krillen told me she went out looking for Tien, because both personalities liked him. I never asked Tien if she found him."
"She did."
The group looked at Darjili in surprise. The blonde girl rolled her eyes, still irked at the fact that her gun was still being held from her by a man she was pretty sure had been rude to her. "Lunch is my mother. Tien is my father. They DO know that I'm in the city, attending school, but they don't know I'm studying martial arts. At least not yet."
"Why have we never seen you transform?" Goten asked.
"I'm very good at keeping from sneezing. I haven't changed into this personality around here at all, and I always seem to change back before I get here."
"So how were you able to remember our names and your situation?" Pan logically asked.
Darjili smirked. "I may have gotten the two personalities from my mother, but I'm not exactly like my mother. I'm still the same person with the same memories. I guess that's my father's influence. Good thing that's one of the few things I got from him. Hiding this transformation is hard enough, but imagine trying to hide another eye. I mean . . . I . . . AAACHHHOOO!!! . . . I . . . What happened?"
Before them, once again, was a wide-eyed, blue-haired Darjili. The gun in Vegeta's hand had disappeared, and the girl seemed to be trying to assimilate her situation. Realization dawned on her as she noticed everyone staring at her. She looked down, avoiding all eyes, and blushed. She was obviously extremely embarrassed.
Goten took the initiative, walking out of the room. "All right. Show's over everyone. Get back to class." At his words, the students obediently ran back their training rooms, silenced perhaps by the serious tone not usually present in Goten's voice. Piccolo encouraged a few of the stragglers to move it, going back to the class he was teaching. Goku took one more look at Darjili, and did likewise.
Jita took Darjili's shoulder. "Let's talk." Darjili nodded numbly. "I'll have her back in a few minutes," Jita added to Vegeta. Then the two left the room, heading for Jita's office.
When they arrived, Jita quickly sat down. Standing and moving around were starting to get harder. She wondered if it was the baby that was draining her energy. She supposed it didn't matter.
"Now," she began.
"Am I in trouble?" Darjili blurted out.
Jita couldn't help but laugh. The difference between her two personalities was astonishing. The blonde Darjili would have been hostile right off, instead of this pitiful supplication. "Don't be ridiculous, girl. Of course you're not in trouble. Why would you think that?"
Darjili shrugged. "I don't know. I guess . . . keeping secrets or shooting at people or something."
Jita smirked. "For one thing, you were endangering no one with that disappearing gun of yours. For another," Jita's face darkened. "Everyone is entitled to their secrets."
Darjili seemed relieved, but still she seemed nervous. "So, what happens now?"
"Well, you're going to have to tell your parents. They need to at least know where you've been living."
"OK," Darjili nodded.
"And," Jita continued, "you're going to have to spend some time in your other personality."
Darjili's eyes widened. "What? Why? She's so mean!"
Jita shook her head. "That's what I'm worried about. She's not another person. She's you. You must learn to control that side of you, or else you're going to sneeze around people that CAN be hurt by bullets."
Darjili sniffed. "I guess you're right. I HAVE almost killed someone before."
"My advice on that . . . Don't kill anyone." Jita paused. "It changes a person."
Darjili looked up and smiled. "Thank you. I'll talk to my parents tonight."
Jita broke out of her distraction. "Good. Now go back to your training. And don't let Vegeta get to you!" she yelled after her.
"I won't!" Darjili yelled back, running down the hallway.
Jita buried her face in her hands in fatigue. Yet another thing to worry about. A student of her dojo killing innocent bystanders. That would ruin too many people's lives. Jita smirked. This so-called free life tended to produce a lot of worry and responsibility. Typical.
"You handled that well."
Chichi walked into the room, knitting needles in hand. Jita offered no response. Chichi furrowed her brow in concern. "Jita?"
"Huh? What?" Jita broke out of her thoughts. "Oh. Thanks. I had to do something."
Chichi was still concerned. "Is the voice bothering you again?" she said hesitantly.
Jita cocked her head in confusion. "What? Oh, that. No, I was just thinking." She paused, and then smiled slightly. "Actually, the voice hasn't bothered me for a long time."
Chichi sat in the chair opposite Jita. "Why do you think that is? Has it gotten bored with you?"
"No. He won't get bored with me. It's not that."
"Then what is it?"
Jita again smiled softly. "I think it's the child. I think he can't bother me with the child inside of me."
Chichi's eyes went all sparkly. "That's so wonderful. But what about when you have the child."
Jita laughed. "I expect things to go back to normal. At least, normal for me anyway."
But Chichi interpreted the look in Jita's eyes. "Jita, you'll do fine. You handle your students wonderfully, far better than I thought you would. You're going to be a wonderful mother."
Jita stared at Chichi with the most serious expression on her face. "I hope you're right, Chichi. 'Cause I couldn't bear to have my child suffer like most Saiyan children have suffered."
Chichi nodded in understanding. "Even the most conscientious of parents can't protect their children from everything. I tried, but I never could. Even if I had kept my training up and become a fighter, it wouldn't have helped. I've come to accept that now. But for your sake, and my grandchild's sake, I hope you can. Now," Chichi stood up. "Let's go back in the house. I got that catalogue with the nursery decorations. And I brought a name book. My grandchild needs a name."
Jita laughed in her throat. "All right. Fine, Chichi." She got up. "But I think it's too early for any of that."
"Nonsense," Chichi said.
Chichi continued talking as they walked down the hall. Jita couldn't resist looking in on her advanced class. She did a sort of double-take. There, going one on one with Pan, was a blonde Darjili. As the two broke apart, Darjili turned to Jita and winked before going back to her match.
*****
Months passed. Jita had stopped getting angry at people for feeling her belly. She'd finally stopped getting irritated at the little Saiyan kicking her from the inside. She had NOT gotten used to not being able to fight . . . or fly . . . or use her ki in any way. She'd finally gotten Goten to put all her kitchen supplies crowded on lower shelves. What really bothered her is that he didn't even have to levitate to get the things. Why did everyone have to be so tall?
Jita was getting nervous. It was getting about time to have the kid, and she was torn between wanting it out of her now, and wanting to keep it in her. As long as the baby was in her, the voice didn't bother her. But having the baby was so inconvenient . . . and painful. She was tired all the time, she had no stamina, she had the weirdest cravings, and she was actually getting emotional. No wonder Saiyan women rarely reproduced. Body and mind seemed to be in constant mutiny. The only thing that was getting her through this with the little sanity she already had was Goten, and even he drove her crazy.
The baby shower had been embarrassing. Since there was no Saiyan equivalent of the tradition, the entire thing was done following human customs. The cake with the frosting that was too sweet. The chalky pastel mints. The disgusting punch made with pineapple and 7up. The gifts that were all in yellow. It was the most ludicrously cute experience that Jita had ever gone through. And the worst thing was, she couldn't torture the men by making them come. It was for women only. But somehow she got through it.
She had become an object of curiosity for the students. Many times she would have to refer a child to their parents when the child asked how Jita had gotten like that. The most embarrassing time was when Pecon asked. Being a monk, he had no experience with such things. Thankfully, Goten had the presence of mind to take Pecon aside and talk with him. Pecon had been very quiet since then. Jita just hoped he hadn't been scarred for life.
Jita sighed, climbing up the ladder with difficulty to put up her books. She knew that Goten tried, but she like to keep her library tidy. She didn't want to ruin the nice books, and she always wanted to know where to find them. But Goten was trying, she had to give him that. He was at the grocery store right now, a job that was usually hers. She looked at her watch. It was getting about time for him to be finished. She shook her head. Men. They were so extremely helpless.
Jita gasped, clutching her stomach suddenly. That was unexpected. She climbed down the ladder, just to be on the safe side. While she had never adopted that philosophy for herself, she wasn't worried about herself. She was worried about the child.
As she was sitting down to recover from the contraction, Jita noticed she had left her diary on the table. She frowned. She didn't want to leave it out in the open. She had given the children permission to read anything on the lower shelves and the tables, but she didn't want any of them reading that. It was too personal, and it was too graphic. She had recorded some of her more unpleasant thoughts and experiences in the document. She usually kept it on the highest shelf, in her private collection. 'Well,' she though, 'no harm in putting one more book up there.'
She put the book under her arm, moved the ladder over to the appropriate shelf, and climbed up there. She had put it among some books that would be pretty boring to younger readers. Smiling with satisfaction, she started to climb down.
Suddenly, the world exploded in pain. Jita couldn't think and she couldn't move. The pain was enough to make her pass out. As she fell to the ground, her last conscious thought was, 'Figures.'
*****
"Sensei?"
Pecon walked through the house, searching for Jita. He was going to pretend that he wanted to ask her something, but really he just wanted to check up on her. Ever since the talk he'd had with Goten, he'd been afraid for Jita's well-being. He understood the miracle of life, but still couldn't help but think that it must be dangerous to have another person growing inside of you. His suspicions had been confirmed as he saw Jita gradually going through more and more pain and fatigue. Why any woman would want to go through all that was beyond him. He'd asked the girls in his class this very question. Darjili (in blonde form) had just shrugged and said that it was just something most women went through, and it was necessary. Krianan had simply launched into a tirade about how it was unfair that women had to go through so much pain and men got off easy. Pecon had wisely dropped the subject, not wanting Krianan to forever label him as a chauvinist. Better to keep the peace.
"Sensei?" he repeated, walking into the library. As he took in everything, he panicked. Jita seemed to just now be coming to. She looked up at him weakly, but she had cut her face and the blood was getting in her eyes; she couldn't see properly.
"Goten?" she asked weakly. "Goten, are you there? I think it's time."
Pecon had the presence of mind to do a quick ki-search, and realized he was the only one around. He remembered that Goten had gone to the store. He panicked, frozen in place and mute with fear. That is, until she started screaming.
"GOTEN!! MAKE IT STOP!!!"
Pecon suddenly pushed aside his fear. Maybe it was his fearless invincible sensei screaming on the floor that made him snap, but it was enough. He picked her up carefully and started flying to the hospital, the calming defense mechanism in his brain making him remember exactly where the hospital was. "Don't worry. You'll be fine," he reassured woman. She didn't respond, lost in the pain.
He touched down in front of the hospital, ignoring the amazed people pointing at him. Nearly missing a few elderly people coming out of the doors, he ran in and rushed up to the nurse's station. "Help me," he said simply.
The efficient orderlies quickly relieved Pecon of his burden. He watched them roll her away, barely aware of the nurse talking to him.
"Sir," she said insistently, getting Pecon's attention. "What is the patient's name?"
"Um," he took a minute to get his brain back into focus. Now that the immediate danger was passed, he was starting to feel the fear growing back in his stomach. "Jita. Her name is Son Jita."
The nurse typed it into the computer. "Right," she said slowly. She quickly dialed a phone number. "Tell Dr. Russel that his "Saiyan" patient is in the maternity ward." She hung up the phone and smiled at Pecon. "What relation are you to the patient, sir?"
"Um, I just a student of hers. I . . . I have to get Goten! He was at the grocery store."
Pecon turned on his heels, despite the nurse's calls for him to come back, and ran into something that knocked him off his feet. He looked up, and was extremely relieved to see Goten. Goten quickly picked him up. "Where is she?" he asked, white-faced.
"Sir," the nurse asked, "are you Mr. Son?"
"Yes," he responded. "Where's my wife?"
"She's all right," the nurse reassured him. "All I need for you to do is to fill out this one sheet and I'll get someone to take you to her room."
Goten filled out the paper as quickly as he could with shaking hands. Pecon approached Goten cautiously. "Sensei? Is there anything you want me to do?"
Goten added a shaky signature at the bottom, checking his watch for the date. He realized he would be remembering that very date for his child's birthday. "Yeah, Pecon. I want you to go to Capsule Corp and tell Vegeta and Bulma what's happening. They can get in touch with everyone else. Then I want you to go back to the dojo and tell anyone who shows up that all classes are cancelled until they hear back from me."
"Yes, sensei," Pecon answered, grateful that he had a way to help them.
As Pecon was leaving, Goten stopped him. "Thank you for taking care of Jita," he said to the monk quietly. Pecon merely nodded, and left.
Goten smiled at the retreating boy. Thank Kami he had been there. Goten had not been sure if he would be able to get there in time. He had not, in fact, gone to the grocery store. He had been visiting his old training ground in the wilderness, seeing if the area had been at all healed, as well as going somewhere to clear his mind. Why was it the one time that he had taken a break in his constant vigilance when he was the most needed.
"Mr. Son?"
Goten turned to the orderly. He sighed and followed him. He just hoped that Jita would be all right.
*****
"WAAAHHHHH!!!!!!!"
The boy laid in his mother's arms, his cries finally ending. Jita had paled to an unnatural pallor - Saiyan births were always difficult - but she was fine. Would recover in a few hours.
After all the necessary procedures, the nurses quickly vacated the rapidly filling room. Goku and Chichi, of course, as well as Bulma and Vegeta. Pecon, having left the responsibility for the dojo with Darjili, had already walked in, demanding to know if Jita was all right. When Jita had found out what the boy had done for her, she had insisted that he come in. He was now sitting in the corner quietly, not having anything to do and not wanting to intrude, yet not wanting to leave either.
The group stared at the already sleeping child. Goten sat at the side of the bed, regarding each expression. Chichi was weeping, obviously remembering the birth of her own children - and her granddaughter. Goku and Bulma were taunting each other about being old: Goku the grandfather, Bulma the aunt (and the elder of the two). Goten could sense his father was a little weirded out by becoming a grandfather again. And Vegeta was just staring at Jita and the baby, almost in disbelief.
But when Jita shifted the child so everyone could see him, all taunting and reminiscing ended. Leave it to Goku to break the spell. "Hey, Vegeta, he looks just like you."
As a Saiyan, the child was born with a full head of hair that was rapidly gaining its stiffness. The hair was forming into the distinctive style of Vegeta, with a few variations: the hair was more of the pure black of Goten's hair than brown, and he had bangs covering the significantly smaller widow's peak, more along the lines of Jita's hairline. His face, too, though it was actually just a male version of Jita's features. Vegeta, along with everyone else, was a little more than weirded out. "I see no similarity," Vegeta retorted, though he was proud of the resemblance.
Chichi shook her head. "I don't either. He looks more like my Goten. Have you finally chosen a name?"
Jita rolled her eyes. "Not this again," she said weakly.
"No really," said Bulma. "I know that Saiyans don't even consider names until after birth, so that means now is the time. What name tradition are you going to use? You could always use my family's name tradition, since I don't think Trunks will ever find a wife."
Goten laughed. "Underwear names? Not thanks. Maybe more like my family's tradition . . ."
Vegeta cut him off. "Kami, another 'Go' name. What are you going to name him, Gonad?"
Everyone laughed, except Goku. "I don't get it."
Vegeta smirked at him. "You wouldn't. Besides, he should have a Saiyan name. He is mostly Saiyan, after all."
Chichi shuddered at the thought. "If you think my grandson is going to have a vegetable name . . ."
"His proper traditional Saiyan name would be Vegeta, following the royal bloodline," Jita interrupted, getting weird looks from everyone except her brother.
"That would be confusing, especially when he grew up. I mean, look at him," Bulma commented. Everyone stared at the child, whose hair had now finished stiffening into an almost exact replica of all the Vegeta's before him.
"I don't see why a name is so important. It doesn't mean anything," Bulma continued.
Vegeta regarded his mate. "For a Saiyan, a name means more than that."
"Vegeta's right," Jita said in a slightly stronger voice. "Every name can be translated into a characteristic, a feeling, an attitude, a saying, a philosophy . . . anything that reflects the parents or what the child would become. Like, the name 'Vegeta' means 'pride'; that could be translated s his defining characteristic - as well as his father's - or the pride of his family and his people, or a representation of the Saiyan race in general . . . it means all of these things at the same time."
Bulma cast a sidelong glance at Vegeta. "That's fitting."
Vegeta chose to take this as a compliment. After all, it was true. "Some Saiyans weren't that imaginative. The most common name was 'Nappa,' meaning 'warrior'."
Jita started chuckling to herself. "And some weren't very accurate or prophetic. After all, Bardock named his eldest 'Radditz'."
At the two royal Saiyans' amused expressions, Goten asked, "What does that name mean?"
Jita looked up at her husband with a dead-pan expression. "Intelligence."
After the laughter died down from people who actually got the joke, Goku couldn't stand it any longer. He didn't usually ask about his Saiyan heritage, but since Vegeta and Jita were momentarily being so open about it, he decided to take advantage of the opportunity. "What does my name mean?"
Jita quickly composed herself. "You actually have an extremely good name, almost on par with 'Vegeta.' Your name encompasses the entire Saiyan philosophy - our way of life. I don't know why you don't go by that name, Kakarrot. It's much better than Goku. Vegeta, I can't think of a good translation. You're better at this language than I am."
Vegeta paused for a moment, then said, "I fight to live; I live to fight."
Chichi took the moment of silence as an opportunity to pick up the so-far nameless baby. Jita reluctantly relinquished the child, although it did give her some time to rest. She was more exhausted than she realized, too tired to use her healing techniques without passing out. Chichi smiled as she cuddled the baby close to her, happy to have another grandchild. "And what does 'Jita' mean?"
Jita frowned, as Vegeta said automatically, if unconvincingly, "I don't remember."
"No, brother, it's alright," Jita said. "You don't have to lie for me. I've come to terms with it." She addressed the others. "You have to remember that I was born without a tail." She paused, smiling thankfully at the dark brown furry tail curling around Chichi's wrist. Chichi was smiling, too. Gohan had done the same thing as a baby. "That was traditionally a point of shame on Planet Vegeta. My father even tried to have me killed, but my mother wouldn't have it. Instead, I was not given the titles of both princess and warrior, even though my birthright entitled me to the former and my power level and race entitled me to the latter. I was also given the name 'Jita,' the opposite of 'Vegeta.' The name means 'shame' and 'dishonor,' and well as 'weak'." Jita smirked, not acknowledging the fact that Goten was holding her hand in comfort. "The legacy my father gave me."
The room was tense with uncomfortable silence. Chichi knew Jita would hate the pity she was feeling, but she couldn't help it. The girl's whole life had been spent fighting that legacy encompassed in her name. Chichi was then shocked out of her thoughts when she realized the baby was awake, and looking at her. He was already showing intelligence even though he was less than a day old, like all Saiyan babies she'd seen. Chichi had been confused at the birth of Krillen's baby, as well as her early years. She hadn't realized how a normal human matures, and had been convinced that Marron's strange parentage (she hadn't trusted Eighteen very much at the time) had caused the girl to be a bit mentally impaired. Chichi guessed Saiyans needed to mature quickly in their society so they could fight. Still, the fact that humans couldn't comprehend algebra and other academics at the age of three was strange to her. "My grandson still needs a name," she said aloud to herself, breaking the silence.
Goten shook his head. "I can't think. He's both human and Saiyan, but we can't name him Vegeta."
For one of those rare times, Goku had a good idea about something that was not fighting. "Hey, I have two names - one Saiyan and one human. Why can't we do the same for him?"
When everyone recovered from the shock of Goku having a good idea, they all agreed. "Very well," Vegeta spoke. "His Saiyan name will be Vegeta, and he will carry on the royal name. But we will call him by a human name to avoid confusion."
This didn't solve the problem, but it pacified the two Saiyan royals. The group began to ponder a good human name. Chichi reluctantly handed baby Vegeta over to Bulma. Bulma looked at the child closely. "You know, he kind of looks more like Gotenks, except for the hair coloration. I always thought Gotenks looked like Vegeta."
Chichi laughed. "Certainly acted like it. Of course, he got that cockiness from the Trunks half."
Vegeta's eyes narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Chichi faced him off. "It means Gotenks ignored everyone else and went off to fight Buu and underestimated him and got severely beaten up. Remind you of someone? Goten would never do that."
"Woman . . ." Vegeta said warningly.
"I've got it!" Goten fortunately interrupted the ensuing argument.
"Got what?" Jita said, slightly disappointed. She'd wanted to hear the argument.
"A fusion name. Between us. Something like, I don't know, Gota."
Jita shook her head. "I don't want another 'Go' name, and it sounds too feminine."
"Alright," Goten said, still thinking, not ready to give up his idea. After all, Jita got to pick the Saiyan name. He wanted to pick the human name. "How about Jiten."
And once again, everyone looked at the child. His eyes had been focusing on each person speaking, as if he was following the conversation. Slowly, his mouth started forming around a word.
"Ji . . . t . . . ten . . ."
The group stared at the child in awe. "Well, I guess it's decided," Goku said quietly.
Jita was not so surprised. She smiled proudly at her son as he was put back in her arms. "Yes. His name is Jiten."
*****
Author's Notes: Thanks to all my reviewers: Dark Wolf (bet you didn't expect this plot twist. Oh, and congrats on the new chapter. I feel for you on the too much work. Even an unworthy English major has no life around mid-terms. Hence, I have had no time until this Saturday to finish my chapter. But I don't EVEN complain to CS students or Engineering students. At my university, the main focus is Engineering and Architecture. If you start complaining about how much work you have to do, they'll take your head off. They're just that crazy and overworked.), tim333 (Thanks for your 2 reviews. I love your reviews. You're always so informative - and flattering, but I like criticism too. Major kudos for your latest chapter of Only Human. I'm just wondering if you're going to have some memories of Krillen being dead, or explain why he wasn't effected by that wish that brought everyone back to life, or what. Anyway.), aqua- illusion (heh-heh. Foil hats. I need to watch "Signs" again. Don't worry. Jita still reads, but she doesn't want to do the scholarly stuff for a living. She likes to fight too much.), and last, but not least, Omega (the story actually isn't that long. It just seems long because of the many short chapters at the beginning, back when I was first truly learning how to write fiction stories, and the time-scale. It does span a really huge amount of time, and I skip around to the really important stuff. I just have a few more chapters to get to the finale, and then the finale will take up a lot of chapters. I guess this really is the equivalent of a novel. And if I keep typing, this acknowledgement is going to be a novel. Cheerio.)
The next chapter is all from scratch, but I'll try to get it out as soon as possible.
