Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z.
Author's Notes: I'm back. It's 2 in the morning and I'm back. Man, am I not smart. Anyway, this is a new, though slightly short, chapter of "The Soul." I can't even think of a title right now. I'll think of something. Maybe I'll wait until tomorrow to post this. That would probably be a good idea. And maybe proofread what I've written to see if Goten isn't training with rabid squirrels or something. He-he.
Well, I did wait for the next day. This chapter seems shorter than I meant it to, but I didn't want to take up any span of time yet. I'll work on the next chapter when I can. I really really want to finish this story before Christmas. I've been working on this story for SO long, and I have other plans. Anyway, on with the show.
Chapter 38: Another Year
The group at Kami's Lookout had long since lapsed into silence. It had been hours since Goku and Vegeta had left for the rescue mission, and it was now night on the Lookout. Of course, on the ground below, it was just barely dusk.
Since Mr. Popo had been so busy with the research on the Leech's knife, Chichi had volunteered to cook for the group. At first she was met with resistance from people considering her feelings, but she'd quickly pointed out that keeping busy would make her worry less. No one had the heart to deny her after that.
Gohan sat at the edge of the Lookout, his feet dangling from the side, and watched the final visible glimmers of a sunset below. He drummed his fingers on the cold white tile, the knot in his stomach growing tighter. Is this what humans feel when they have digestive problems? As a demi-Saiyan, Gohan took on the Saiyan trait of metabolizing his food as soon as he ate it. Probably not, he mused. They wouldn't feel this nervous. This is just nerves.
Chichi had fixed her usual superb fare, and Gohan had eaten plenty, but the food now made him over-energetic and antsy. But there was nothing to do. He'd tried to help Mr. Popo with his research, but each book had been written in an ancient and/or alien language. Piccolo didn't seem inclined to talk, Trunks had been preoccupied ever since the incident with the knife, and he knew that if he approached Bulma, she'd just worry him to death. Bulma was not exactly comforting. He'd even tried to help his mother with the cooking, or the dishes, but she was in manic housework mode without a house. That was a deadly combination. He decided to leave her be.
And I don't want to go home. Not until Dad and Vegeta get back.
Gohan tensed as he felt a presence beside him, but then relaxed. It was only Trunks. Gohan turned to acknowledge Trunks, who plopped tiredly beside him. Gohan realized how much harder this was on Trunks. He wasn't as used to the dragonballs as Gohan was. The dragonballs and death had ruled Gohan's early life – the majority of his life. Trunks had rarely even seen one, and had seen Shenlong only once.
"How're ya holding up?" Gohan asked nonchalantly.
Trunks gave a sarcastic laugh. "Wonderful. Best day of my life. Right on up there with Buu."
Gohan chuckled slightly. "Don't worry. Our dads'll fix it. Always do." Gohan held back the comment that actually Trunks' dad usually screws everything up, and his own dad was usually there to make everything right. He thought it best not to dwell on the past. Besides, Vegeta had changed. Now he just screws things up unintentionally.
Trunks stared at the growing dark. "Yeah, I know. It's just…" Trunks's voice lowered. "It happened so fast."
Gohan sighed and nodded. "Yeah. For both of them." Gohan looked over warily at Trunks. "What did you see when that knife hypnotized you?"
Trunks's brow furrowed. "I… it was… that first day with Buu, when Dad was fighting fat Buu. Hah. I remember – you weren't there. It was the first time that Dad hugged me… but then he knocked me out." Trunks shook his head. "They told me later on that Dad was just trying to get me off the battlefield, but it hurt at the time."
Gohan nodded. "Yeah. Those times will stay with you. I remember…" He paused, frowning at the recollection. Something about waiting at Kami's Lookout, helpless, again, had dredged this memory up. "…it was when you were just a baby – my dad had to hit me to keep me from trying to go fight Cell after I thought he killed Piccolo. I completely understand it now, and even understood it a little then, but it… hurt. It always hurts."
Trunks eyed Gohan. "You aren't going to go all Goten now, are you?"
Gohan shot him a glance. "I won't if you won't."
Even though that statement was rather loaded with touchy subjects, it actually cheered the two demi-Saiyans up. They looked at each other and laughed.
"Look at us," Trunks chuckled. "You the professor, me the big CEO – all grown up, and still counting on Daddy to save the day."
Gohan sobered slightly. "You regret? I mean, not training as hard?"
Trunks stopped, considering. "I… Sometimes. When I try to spar with Goten, and I can't even keep up with him. We used to match in power. Well, actually, I used to be more powerful. But not now… And then Dad will make comments – something along the lines of me starting to fit in with the usual stereotypes of my "kind." Of course, then I pointed out there's another stereotype I'd be fulfilling if I trained all the time." Trunks laughed softly. "That usually shuts him up."
Gohan allowed Trunks to ramble on. Funny how they could talk comfortably about various sensitive subjects that would usually have everyone at each others throats. It didn't seem to matter much at the moment.
Gohan's nerves grated at the sudden intrusion of the loud polytonic tune ringing from Trunks's pocket. Like most professors, he'd heard that little ditty interrupt many a class. Gohan covered his annoyance quickly. It wasn't like he could throw Trunks out of class. "You get coverage all the way up here?"
Trunks smiled sheepishly. "Yeah… I probably need to take this." With that he pulled himself up and walked along the edge of the Lookout away from Gohan, speaking in what Gohan quickly realized to be French.
"Humans and their contraptions," a deep voice came from behind Gohan.
Gohan turned his head around to smile at his old mentor. "Just because you've spent your life out in the woods doesn't mean everyone should."
Piccolo lifted an eyeridge. "Who's spent his life out in the woods?"
Gohan laughed at this, conceding the argument. "How long's it been?"
Piccolo stared at the sun. "Seven hours…"
Gohan sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Not sure how much more of this I can take."
Piccolo eyed him. "Take it easy, kid."
Gohan smirked. "Easy for you so say. You realize this is yet another year of training to face yet another unstoppable evil opponent."
Piccolo closed his eyes. "Yeah, I realized that, kid. Are you up to it?"
"Are you kidding me? I'm not going to be the one who kills the Leech." Gohan stared off into the darkness of the day, interrupted far below by the tiny fires of the Indian village. "I've slacked off so much I'm not even sure I can use the Mystic powers anymore. I've probably lost them after all this time. Besides… you know I'm not a fighter."
"This from the boy who killed Cell."
Gohan looked up at Piccolo. "This from the man who got absorbed and killed by Buu." Gohan smiled reassuringly at Piccolo's worried look. "Don't worry about it. I'll train, and I'll be there if or when I'm needed, but it looks like it's going to come down to Dad, Vegeta, Goten, or Jita. They're the real fighters."
"So you think they'll succeed. Getting Goten and Jita out of Hell, I mean," Piccolo amended at Gohan's confused look.
Gohan smiled. "Of course. Dad can make just about anything happen, and Vegeta's just too stubborn to quit and leave them. And then Goten and Jita will get training in the Afterlife, which I hear is superb, but if they don't beat the Leech, Dad and Vegeta can always fuse and kill him. I don't even know why people keep messing with us. I mean, Earth has the strongest people in the universe. We have nothing to worry about." And maybe if I keep believing that, I won't feel so uneasy.
Piccolo smirked at Gohan's version of the near future. They both knew it was too optimistic to be believable, but it had happen so often, it almost seemed run of the mill.
"Dad?"
Gohan sensed the power of the two Saiyans before he heard Trunks's exclamation. He turned to cheerfully greet the returning victors, but his smile faltered. Something… was wrong.
"I-is Goten…?" Gohan began.
"The boy's fine," Vegeta snapped, quickly moving away from Goku.
Chichi was already running out of the living quarters of the Lookout. "My baby's alright?! Oh, Goku!" She flung herself against Goku, latching her arms around him. Goku didn't make a move.
"And Jita?" Piccolo broke the awkwardly joyful moment.
Chichi pulled away from Goku to look at his face. "Goku?" the loaded one-word question came out.
Goku didn't answer.
Bulma gave Goku a strange look, but was in too much suspense for his silence. "Vegeta, what happened?"
Vegeta's back was turned to everyone. "Ask Kakarrot," he said in an unexpectedly light voice. "I was unconscious at the time."
The entire group turned to Goku, who was looking down, not meeting anyone's eyes. Gohan was about to prompt him when Goku spoke up in a voice so different from his usual confident tenor. "Jita's still down there. We couldn't get her out."
"We?" Vegeta said, irony dripping from his voice.
Goku actually glared at the prince. "I didn't see YOU helping much."
Vegeta's eyebrows raised at the challenge as everyone practically gasped at the unfamiliar and unfitting tone of bitterness in Goku's voice.
"Dad," Gohan started slowly, "what DID happen? I know it sounded pretty impossible, what with King Kai being adamant against getting Jita out of there, but you seemed confident…"
"I couldn't save her, okay?" Goku snapped. "And I'm sorry I can't tell you what happened," Goku added on a little softer.
When Goku lifted his head, the others were shocked to see such a look in the happy-go-lucky Saiyan's eyes. It was a look that was truly, horrifically… lost. Uncomfortable under the stares, Goku took off.
Chichi sighed painfully, used to his quick unpredictable departures. Vegeta cursed under his breath. The rest of the group was too shocked to register any reaction.
"What… just happened?" Trunks ventured. "Dad?"
All eyes turned to Vegeta, the only one who seemed to be in the position to explain Goku's odd defeated behavior.
Vegeta's eyes flashed. "How the hell should I know?" he said in a tight voice. "I told you I was unconscious at the time. All I know is that Goten is safe and Jita is gone forever. There's no use dwelling on it. Just get used to the idea that dead is dead this time."
The weight of the words sunk in slowly. No one knew what to feel at the news about Jita. What are you supposed to feel for a damned soul anyway?
"So… a year of training," Piccolo echoed Gohan's earlier words, breaking the uncomfortable mournful silence. With the usual "fearless leader" now gone, Piccolo stepped into the leadership position. "We'll wish Goten back not long before then, and train in the meantime. If anyone wants to tell any of the others, you're welcome to. They should at least be told."
"I'll take care of that," Gohan volunteered quietly. Piccolo nodded to him.
"Gohan?" Gohan turned to his mother, who looked tired enough to keel over. "Take me home now. I need to go home."
Gohan smiled wearily, feeling just as worn out. "Sure Mom." He looked over at the others. "So… um… I guess I'll see you all around." With that he took off, Chichi in his arms.
Watching Gohan disappear into the darkness, Trunks shifted his weight uncomfortably. "Uh… I've got to go to the office. Gotta arrange for some time off in the next year," he added as an afterthought, as if it wasn't really important. "See you at home."
Bulma waved, and Vegeta merely nodded. "Are you ready, Vegeta?" Bulma asked.
Vegeta rubbed the bridge of his nose, as if trying to dispel a headache. "I don't feel like flying right now, woman. Don't I remember you having a plane?"
Bulma cocked her head at her husband's strange mood. "Yes, I capsulized it. It's…" She felt around for her purse. "It's in the Lookout. I'll be back in a minute."
Vegeta crossed his arms and waited as Bulma left him and Piccolo alone. He knew Piccolo wanted to know more about what happened, but he wasn't going to volunteer anything.
True to expectation, Piccolo's low bass split the silence. "So what did really happen?"
Vegeta didn't raise his head. "I wasn't lying, Piccolo. I don't really know what happened. It looked like we were going to get out – all four of us – and then everything when dark. I woke up in Yemma's office with an extreme headache, Jita gone forever, and Goten yelling at Kakarrot again. Not to mention my nephew has been kidnapped, we have yet another unstoppable evil whatever to train for and fight, and no one really seems to care. All topped off with Kakarrot having his first experience with self-doubt and coming face-to-face with his own failings." Vegeta almost felt out of breath. "So, how was your day, Namek?"
Piccolo didn't rise to the bait. "Failings?"
Vegeta laughed slightly. "The almighty Lord of the Lower Realms of Hell made him see all the people he's killed. Made this whole spiel about purity of intent and purity of deed. He finally proved what I've been trying to say for years – that Kakarrot is not the pure perfect hero everyone makes him out to be."
"Well I knew that," Piccolo said wryly. "He killed my father, you know."
Vegeta's eyebrows raised. "So why didn't you ever take revenge?"
"I did," Piccolo stated. "I killed him and kidnapped his son. That's about as far as you can go against Goku."
Vegeta nodded, but added, "The Voice went further."
"I found it, Vegeta!"
Bulma walked towards the two warriors with purse in tote. "It was in the library the entire time." She casually caused a minor explosion in decapsulizing the plane. "Oh, Piccolo. Dende asked me to tell you that he's gone to give Goten the Leech's knife. Mr. Popo thinks that there are people in the Afterlife who can teach Goten who to fight with it."
Even as Bulma was talking, Vegeta was pulling her onto the plane. The events of the day had drained him so much that all he wanted to do right now was shut his eyes and will it all away… at least until the morning.
Bulma, unperturbed, slid into the pilot's chair while Vegeta slumped into the copilot's position. Vegeta never acted as copilot; he was merely in the passenger's side seat. He stared out the side window as the plane rose and then descended slightly.
"I think we should drop by Jita and Gohan's house first," Bulma said quietly.
Vegeta grunted in response. That was the last place he wanted to be.
"I just want to lock their house and dojo up for the next year, so Goten won't come back to life to face a huge electric bill," she continued lightly, trying to break the mood a little.
Oh, the horror, Vegeta thought. "That couldn't wait until tomorrow?" Vegeta asked wearily.
Bulma shook her head. "Their deaths were widely publicized, whether they were meant to or not. The dojo of the Spider Masters would be fair game for any thieves or scavengers. Most know that their dojo is equipped with some of the best of Capsule Corp technology. Some nuts might just want souvenirs. You might need to scare away a few humans."
Usually scaring people gave Vegeta a weird sort of satisfaction, but tonight he really didn't feel like dealing with the weakling scum of Earth. "Tell me again why the Saiyans were so evil."
"Easy," Bulma said wryly. "You killed people."
"We didn't do it for money, though."
"No… you did it for the kicks."
Vegeta chuckled. "Can't argue with you there."
The previous unease faded away slightly as the two settled into their comfortable routine of verbal sparring. At that moment both of them were longing for the familiar. So they argued calmly, their voices never raising in volume, anger never flaring. It wasn't the time.
*****
Vegeta sat in the copilots chair, watching as Bulma half-ran in the yellow glow of the plane's landing lights into the dark wooden house, seeming so out of place this close to the city. Some lights came on, and Vegeta imagined Bulma assessing the messy house. That house was always messy. Jita just wasn't the housekeeping type.
Vegeta felt the dull pain of a headache intensify into a few sharp shards jabbing right behind his eyes. This was the worst kind of headache, and, despite great fatigue, Vegeta knew he would probably not get to sleep for a LONG while. With a muffled curse – a habit he'd actually been trying to break since the advent of fatherhood, and with no luck – he got up from his seat and made his way to the back of the plane. There had to be some aspirin somewhere.
Not finding anything in the few small compartments on the sides of the plane… or in the glove compartment in front of him… or in Bulma's purse… Vegeta walked into the tiny restroom. He blinked in pain as the harsh fluorescent light slammed into his senses, but found what he was looking for in the surprisingly well-stocked medicine cabinet. From the looks of it, the plane was probably kept for business trips – for both Trunks and Bulma, and possibly Dr. Briefs before them. Vegeta knew that Trunks didn't use any cologne. And he knew Bulma used it…
He quickly put back the tiny pink bottle of Pamprin and grabbed the Advil instead. In relief, he took the pills and washed them down with lukewarm water in a tiny paper cup. He waited expectantly, stupidly. Of course it wouldn't work so quickly. They weren't senzu or anything, Vegeta berated himself. But there was always that expectation.
Stretching, Vegeta left the restroom and began walking toward the front of the plane. His eyes wandered about lazily… which is when he finally spotted the lights on in the dojo.
Have I lost all time sense, or is the woman that fast? No… she's still in the house; there's still lights on in there. Then…
Vegeta allowed a tiny thread of ki-sense into his throbbing head, scanning the lighted dojo. A large number of slightly above normal kis were gathered, with a few spiked above the others. Vegeta closed his eyes briefly in realization. The Spider students… of course. They didn't know a thing of what had happened. Vegeta sighed and made his way down the compact steps of the plane and across the lawn, patchy from dozens of sparring or playing children tearing up the grass. The front door of the dojo was closed and locked, but he had clearance.
They're probably too distracted to have sensed the plane. Well, they ARE only children, Vegeta conceded.
Vegeta was unexpectedly greeted in the hallway by a solemn faced Danton. The young man's eyes were suspiciously red, but his face was defiantly set. Vegeta remembered that he'd probably been with children all day, not being one of the advanced to come to the Lookout.
Danton nodded to Vegeta. "We're all in big room," he said quietly. His voice was slightly hoarse.
"Everyone?" Vegeta inquired.
Danton shook his head slightly, slowly. "Just Jita-sensei's students. The little kids are all at their homes. It's late, you know."
Vegeta never carried a watch. "I hadn't noticed."
"What happened?" Danton demanded suddenly.
Vegeta crossed his arms. The one day that he just wanted to go to sleep, he had to be answer man. These brats deserve to know, though, he conceded. "I'll tell everyone at once," Vegeta motioned toward the big room, the largest of the training gyms.
When the two entered the big room, Vegeta was confronted with what seemed to be a sea of faces, despite the fact that there were only fifteen of them. He noted Pan in the corner, who had opted to wait among the students instead of with her family. She gave him a weak little wave. The room was automatically hushed, all eyes trained on the prince.
Vegeta cleared his throat and braced himself. He knew that everyone there would be devastated, and that some of the reactions may be unpredictable. He tried to think of ways to soften the blow, but he was unschooled in that. He would just have to be honest with them.
"I do not have good news," Vegeta began. "I suppose that the ones who were at the Lookout told brought everyone up to date?" He noted the nodding heads and moved on. "Goten has been rescued."
"Oh, thank Kami!" Pan exclaimed amidst the excited murmurs. The look on Vegeta's face soon stopped the rejoicing.
"Yes, Goten has been rescued. He will be training in the Afterlife for a year, so you won't see him until next year when we bring him back with the dragonballs. But Jita…" Vegeta trailed off, his eyes casting to the side a little bit. The room was unbearably quiet, more than one student holding his or her breath.
Vegeta regained his voice. "Jita… couldn't be rescued. She has to remain dead."
More than one student gasped loudly. Vegeta could barely watch as each of Jita's students dealt with the shock and grief. He'd been expecting each reaction. It was like he'd already seen it. And he did not deter them from their grief, not even when Darjili, her eyes opened as wide as they could get, rose from her place on the floor and calmly left the room.
But Vegeta wasn't finished. He knew that it would be best to give these young warriors something to focus on. There was a danger that they would wish to give up fighting now that their teacher was dead, and Jita wouldn't have wanted that.
"I know this is difficult," he spoke over the sobs, "but remember that life does not end now. There is a new evil – Jita's killer. He has kidnapped Jiten, and retreated to a dimension that we cannot access. He has promised to return in a year. In the meantime, there is nothing to do but to train for his coming. Jita and Goten were training you with the idea of leaving behind a new generation of protectors for Earth. You will probably not fight Jita's killer, but you must be ready anyway."
A trembling Pecon stood up. "Vegeta-san?" Vegeta acknowledged him with a nod. "We are going to train. Darjili and I are keeping the Spider school open in Goten and…" He swallowed hard. "In Goten's stead," he finished. "That is… with your permission, of course. You… are the closest authority over the school, I guess."
Vegeta crossed his arms in bemusement. Sometimes he just didn't give these humans enough credit. "Boy, you are probably closer in authority than I. Fine. Do what you want."
Pecon didn't smile, but simply nodded. He was just too sick to smile.
Everyone murmured in morose anticipation until Vegeta just couldn't stand it anymore. With barely a nod, the Saiyan left his sister's students to their own devices and walked back into the plane. He felt that he'd done all he could.
*****
Bulma was just walking downstairs when she heard a noise of tinkling glass. Thieves, was the first thought in her mind, and she tensed up to call Vegeta as she entered the small living room. But before she could even open her mouth, she saw the that it was just Tien's girl, Darjili.
"Darjili?" Bulma called to the student.
Darjili continued to sweep up the crystal fragments in the middle of the floor, using a small hand-broom and a well-used dustpan. "Bulma-san," she replied quietly.
Bulma froze a bit. She realized that Darjili would have no way of knowing everything that had happened. In all the grief and confusion, everyone had forgotten the Spider students. They weren't a usual part of the circle of warriors that handled every crisis on Earth. "Darjili…" she began slowly, "I… have some bad news."
Darjili straightened from the floor. "I already know. Vegeta-san told everyone already; they were all waiting in the dojo."
Bulma simply nodded. She could hardly picture her husband doing that, but everyone was acting strangely now. Then Bulma realized that Darjili was a live-in – one of the eight. "I… I'm sorry. I was planning on shutting up the house for a year, but…"
"That is not necessary, Bulma-san," Darjili interrupted, her voice becoming a little firmer. "Pecon and I plan to keep the Spider school going, as well as take care of all the other live-ins. The rest of the Advanced class will join in teaching the classes." Darjili looked down a bit. "That is, with your permission."
Bulma smiled. "You don't need to ask my permission, but you need my help. I can take care of any legal trouble, if you're willing to take the responsibility. I mean, you'll be responsible for taking care of six of the younger students. Can you handle that?"
"Five," Darjili corrected.
"What?"
Darjili sighed. "Cinty's mother picked her up and brought her back home. You… might not remember Cinty. Anyway, she was a live-in, but she was just an eight-year-old. I guess I understand her parents," she ended, her voice sounding a little miffed.
Bulma smiled slightly. "I've taken care of two eight-year-olds in my time. You don't want that by yourself."
Darjili laughed a little bit. Then she remembered. "What happened to Jiten?" she asked.
Bulma jerked a little. She'd almost forgotten. "He was… kidnapped. That think – whatever it was – took him and we can't get at him. But the thing said he'd come back in a year," Bulma said quickly at Darjili's horrified look.
"Poor kid," Darjili whispered under her breath. Her lips trembled. "Um… Bulma-san? I think I'm going to go upstairs and get all my crying done before everyone comes back in. Get it out of my system."
Before Bulma could reply, the girl was gone, the dustpan laying forgotten on the floor. Bulma, still slightly in a daze, walked over to the dustpan. The shattered remains of crystal were unrecognizable, until she picked out one of the larger pieces. It was Jita's face… from the statue, Bulma realized.
"Yeah, girl," Bulma said quietly. "I think I am too."
*****
Goku was sitting on the floor, his back to their bed, when Chichi walked into the bedroom. Chichi stared at her husband staring at the floor. He'd already taken off his shirt and weighted clothing, which were now settled in the slowly forming indentions in a corner of the room. He had the hanging expression of wild pup that had gotten lost from its family. It made Chichi want to cry, or maybe yell. Anything to break up that pathetic scene.
"Goku?" she said softly, moving over to her husband and putting a hand on his shoulder. "What's… happened to you?"
Goku looked up at her and gave a smile, a pale shadow of his usual expression. "It's OK, Chichi," he said with forced lightness. "Nothing happened."
Chichi crossed her arms. "Are you going to start lying now?"
Goku paled, his eyes growing incredibly wide. Chichi nearly panicked. What did I say now? "…Goku…"
He looked away.
Chichi eased herself up on the bed, her arms circling around Goku's shoulders. Goku leaned his head back against her, a move that both surprised and comforted Chichi. Goku never leaned on anyone for comfort. He never needed any. Chichi's arms tightened instinctively. What happened to him? The question was like a mantra in her head. Chichi knew what had basically gone on. It was what all the "gods" had said would happen, and while it broke her heart to see Jita gone, and to such a horrible place, she'd somehow known that Jita wouldn't be coming back, and had even partially come to peace with it before they even had news. But why was Goku taking it so hard? It couldn't be that he had difficulty accepting that dead was dead this time. He'd done that before. There was more to it, but Goku looked like he wasn't talking.
"Jita chose to stay," Goku's voice cut through and belied her thoughts.
"W-what?" Chichi asked slowly, not sure if she had heard the soft declaration correctly.
"While we were down there," Goku continued, almost in a trance. "The seal was broken. If Jita had left, she would have unleashed the Voice. She… gave herself up and bowed to the Lord of the Lower Realms of Hell to keep that from happening. She could have left, but she didn't."
Chichi felt that she could literally pull her jaw off the floor. "But, Goku… Why didn't you tell anybody? I mean… that's a noble thing. She would have wanted everyone to-"
"No, she didn't," Goku cut in. "She swore me to secrecy after knocking Goten and Vegeta out. She didn't want anyone to know, because she was ashamed about giving her loyalty—"
Chichi sat back, overwhelmed by what Goku was saying. "But why did you tell me?"
Goku shrugged slightly. "I had to tell someone, and I didn't think Jita would mind you knowing. She just didn't want Goten and Vegeta knowing."
The two spent the next few minutes in silence. Finally Chichi shook her head. "Such a selfless act," Chichi said in awe. "That doesn't deserve Hell."
Goku didn't respond. He was already asleep.
Chichi sighed and pulled him into bed, her training once again triumphing over his bulk. She stretched out beside him and kicked the blanket further away. It was too hot for a blanket. It was at this time that Chichi usually reflected on her day while going to sleep. She laughed at herself at the thought of doing that. There was no way.
She would also seek out the ki signatures of her family, a skill she'd learned after being sick of being both helpless and ignorant during the various crises. The absence of three kis made the tears flow freely again. Goten was dead for now. Jita was dead for good. And Jiten…
Oh, my. I almost forgot Jiten.
*****
In a blanket of swirling gray mists, a child slept. He'd been doing so for many hours, but who could tell how long mortal children slept. His small figure was curled up into a fetal position and his tail was twitching behind him. The only disturbance on his peaceful face came when a large-ish shadow fell across him.
"Wake up, child," a man in leather armor crouched over him, brushing the bangs out of the boy's face. "It's time to play."
I thank all of my wonderful reviewers:
Silver Warrior: You hit the nail right on the head, my friend.
Tonifranz: You know, the best compliment I could ever get is to be called original. I thank you. About Goten respecting Vegeta more than Goku… that's not the first time I've done that in this fic. Do you remember when Goten and Jita had a fight about Jiten lying a few chapters back? It was Vegeta who talked sense into Goten, and he did it by saying that Goten was acting like Goku. Yes, I did have Goten and Goku reconcile a while back. The thing is, problems are not solved so neatly, especially within families. Resentment dies hard. I didn't want to do a quick fix for anything, especially dealing with emotions. Plus, you must remember that Goten has just died, lost his wife, and possibly lost his son, all with going through horrible torture from the Voice. He's not having a good day, and he's ready to lash out. We tend to lash out at our parents during bad times. About training – don't forget that I like to play with power structure. Think of the name Leech, and what it implies. That's all I'm saying about that. Now, on to the Super Saiyan levels. Level four doesn't exist with me. I'm sorry, but I decided from the very beginning to ignore GT in this particular fic. Notice that my Goten is extremely different from GT Goten. I COULD have Vegeta go Super Saiyan 3, but what good would that do? Keep in mind that I'm not having just another super-powered villain. Super Saiyan 3 is the most erratic of any level, causing time distortions and power drains and who knows what else. Level 2 is probably as high as I'll go with Vegeta. I'll leave Vegeta level 3 to Dark Wolf.
Omega: Don't worry, I will have fighting. It wouldn't be DBZ without fighting. Now, let's see. Do I have everything planned or am I making this up as I go along? Really, it's a combination of both, but leaning more to the former. I know where each character is going, and what causes what. With the details, I just go with the flow. Of course, then I try to keep up with all my details in multiple lists and charts just so I don't write plotholes. Anyway…
Aqua-illusions: Hi! You're back! And with three yummy reviews. I'm glad that you reviews each one individually. Sometimes I just like to look at the climbing number of reviews. OK, Goku never tricked anyone, as far as I can remember. King Kai's just pissed and isn't really sure what he's saying, but just want to blame Goku anyway. He's such a good target. Don't worry, I won't write myself into a corner. About Goku and eating… it's not that he completely forgot to eat. In the Afterlife he had no normal bodily functions (there is evidence in the manga that dead people don't eat), and he'd only need food for energy to fight. You get used to this after eight years. I would imagine that suddenly coming back to life after being dead eight years would be an extreme shock to your system. So Goku would go back to waiting until he was so hungry that he was ready to pass out, like he did in early Dragonball when he was taking care of himself. Not many people wait that long to eat. Anyway. Ah, and you are the optimist. Yes, it will make rescuing Jita a lot harder. In fact, it will make it impossible. Do you really think that Jita is going to get rescued? Do you? Keep reading then.
Dark Wolf: Thanks. *grins* I always look forward to your high praise. I'm glad you've gotten to the next chapter of Sarie Mue. Howler and I are thinking of working on the Popo chapter this weekend, but we're not sure of an angle yet. Oh, well. Take care of that injury, dude. : )
