Summary: When Goku Son is unexpectedly enrolled in an expensive boarding school he makes it his mission to unite in friendship an eclectic group with only their culture of excess in common. B/V, G/CC, K/18
This is very obviously a high school fic. Out of vogue? I don't know. This is a little less Americana than the ones I've read, as necessitated by the fact that I know next to nothing about American high schools. The language is probably going to get pretty crude in the dialogue in places (maybe not this chapter) because, well, it's a story about spoilt sixteen-year-olds, essentially. Sorry.
Chapter One: A New Name
If any of Goku Son's friends from his old school had heard that he was quaking in his boots at the prospect of meeting new people, they would have laughed so hard something vital might have burst. Goku almost laughed himself, before remembering that he really was sitting in a strange room in a strange building in a strange part of the country, waiting to meet strange new people from a strange part of society he had never before been in contact with.
Not six months before this moment, Goku had been calmly eating dinner with his grandfather when two people had burst through the door claiming to be Goku's parents. After the initial shock, Grandpa Gohan seemed to recognise them and, although he was bewildered at their sudden reappearance so late in their son's life, there was no doubt that this was his son and his wife, the boy's natural parents. Goku had been a little more incredulous. He had always thought they were dead.
Inquiries as to the Sons' very extended absence, the abandonment of their then-infant son and, especially, the origin of the large sums of money they were flashing around all went unanswered but it seemed, at least, that they were determined to use this mystery wealth to improve their youngest child's prospects in life. A round of applications went out to the most exclusive schools in the country and Goku was rejected from every one.
For two weeks Goku's new parents had been enraged at the idea that their son wasn't good enough for these fancy schools. They had made angry phone calls. They had driven out to schools halfway across the country just to try and explain what a cherub their son was, as though they had watched him grow up and not just driven up once he was nearly an adult. And, just as abruptly as they had blown up, they cooled down. Not a word was said about the school issue and Goku had been glad to go back to his friends without worrying about being removed from his current school.
A month later he had received an acceptance letter addressed to him by his middle name. It had informed him that 'Kakarrot Son' was invited to join the student body at Orange Star College as a sixth form boy at the beginning of the next academic year. Goku knew that Orange Star College was a very expensive, very exclusive boarding school north of town. He also knew that Orange Star had sent 'Goku Son' a letter declining his enrollment, only to now accept 'Kakarrot Son', who wasn't even a real person, as a student.
When he had asked his parents about it, they just smiled and told him things were working out well for him now.
Right now, Goku wasn't sure things were working out so well. Everyone had been very polite to him so far, even though he had arrived at the college quite late and all the other students were doing things in the school proper while he fiddled about in his assigned bedroom, trying to put away his things neatly and wondering about the kind of person his room mate must be. The only signs another boy even lived in the room were the empty cases at the foot of the bed and the crisp folded clothes in his drawers.
Goku had only been at school two hours and he was already going through other people's things. It was a relief, then, to hear a knock on the door and be forcefully pulled out of what he could only conclude was a sudden descent into crime and villainy.
At first, Goku thought someone had knocked and run away. A small cough alerted him to the fact that he was actually just looking over the top of his visitor's head.
"Oh, hi!"
"Woah, you are way too tall. Everyone here is around my height, you're going to stick out like a sore thumb."
He knew it, he just knew it. Rich people were all tiny. Well, that was it, Goku's life was ruined. He'd be a freak here at this miniature school.
"Oh, uh, geeze." The little guy was grinning incredulously and waving his hands in front of him. "I was just kidding; you don't need to look so scared. You really haven't met any other students yet?" Goku shook his head. "Well, you missed the induction for all the new sixth formers, so I'm up here to collect you and show you around a bit. Give you the low down." He paused. "You are Kakarrot Son, right?"
Goku blinked owlishly. Then he remembered the strange letter. "Oh, yeah, I guess so. Just call me Goku though."
The small boy shrugged. "Whatever floats your boat. Krillin Chastain, by the way. Stick with me and you'll be alright."
"Did all your hair fall out?"
"What? It's gone? My hair!" Krillin rubbed his hands over his scalp in frantic motions. Goku panicked. "Seriously though, no, I shave it." Goku stopped hopping from one foot to another.
"Oh. My brochure says we're not allowed have hair shorter than three inches."
"Well, I don't have hair shorter than three inches. I don't have any hair." He winked.
The taller boy scrunched his nose up for a moment, considering the argument, then shrugged. "I guess not."
"Anyway I got my parents to write a note saying it was a religious thing." As soon as Goku opened his mouth, Krillin held up a hand. "It's not. The note just stops the staff harassing me about it."
They crossed a patch of lawn that separated the main school buildings from the dormitories and entered an impressive stone building. "What are you taking?" Krillin asked.
"Huh?"
"What subjects are you taking?"
"Oh!" Goku laughed and scratched the back of his head. "Sorry! I'm taking, uh... Home Economics, Sport Science, ICT and History."
"Bit light on there, huh?" Goku looked at him quizzically, so Krillin elaborated. "Usually the students that come in at sixth form get a place because they were whiz kids at their old schools; they don't often take any of the applied subjects, and a lot of them give five a go and see how the workload suits them."
"Oh. I don't know how I got in, really. I'm not that great at school."
Krillin's eyebrows soared up his forehead, and he turned his face away so the new boy wouldn't see his surprise. "Well, I'll show you the kitchens first. They're downstairs."
They made their way across to another building, the building in which Goku's new bedroom was located being strictly residential, then traipsed down a flight of stairs and a long hallway to the kitchens, and Goku let out a low, impressed whistle. The facilities here, much like everywhere else in the school, seemed they were out of a movie to a small town, small income boy like Goku. He peered through the windows to the classrooms and spotless stainless steel stretched out forever.
"One of these kitchens is just for sixth formers. I think it's the one you're looking at." Krillin explained. He was bored down here, but it was better than listening to a speech from the headmaster, which was what anyone who hadn't managed to escape the afternoon assembly would be doing.
"Eesh." he said suddenly, as a pair of girls rounded the corridor and entered the kitchen in question, completely ignoring the two boys in the hall. "Yep, that's the sixth form kitchen alright."
"How do you know?" Goku asked.
"See those two girls?" Goku nodded. "The redhead's Pippa Preston. Pretty innocuous, a little loud-mouthed. Dad in shipping, mother in advertising. The dark one's Chichi Mao, don't know what her parents do. We call her The Chairman. Say it to her face. That'd be a laugh. They're going around now and choosing all the 'best' cookware and putting it at Chichi's station before the first practical, probably don't even know when pracs'll be starting."
"What's she chairman of?"
"Huh?"
"You said you call her the chairman, so what's she chairman of?"
"Uhh." Goku turned around to wait for an answer and Krillin cringed. "You really don't get the joke? It's just a kind of mean nickname for her. Her surname's Mao. M-A-O. Chichi Mao, Chairman Mao, The Chairman? She'll drive a man to suicide? You know what, don't sweat it. You don't want to talk to her, anyway."
"Well, I'll look up Chairman Mao anyway. He's a Chinese guy right?"
"Yeah, sure. I'll show you some of the general classrooms and computer labs now. Back upstairs."
They walked through the ground and first floors in relative silence, Krillin pointing out important rooms and Goku nodding. As they mounted the stairs to the second floor where, Krillin explained, most of the computers were, Goku broached a subject that had been on his mind.
"Is it really so important what your parents do?"
Krillin tilted his head uncertainly.
"Earlier, when you were telling me about Pippa and Chichi you mentioned both their parents. People didn't do that at my old school."
"Oh. Uh..." Krillin looked uncomfortable. "Where did you go to school previously?"
"Just the comprehensive in town." He pointed with his thumb to the south and Krillin cringed.
"Wow, yeah, okay things are going to be pretty different here, I guess. People like to know where everyone else's money comes from, and what your parents do basically defines your future for a lot of people here." Goku's brow creased. This was unfamiliar ground for him. Surely if these kids had so much money they could do whatever they wanted with their lives.
Krillin sighed. "Okay, so take the Briefs girl for example, if you can stomach her. New money, flashy clothes and all that, takes herself very seriously but she doesn't have much choice, career-wise. Daddy built a highly successful company from the ground up and one way or another she is going to take over the family business. The only freedom for her would be choosing how technical she wants to get with the core of the business, or if she wants to be purely management. Either way, she's sitting in the company president chair whether she likes it or not."
"Oh." Goku felt like all he was saying today was 'oh'. He hadn't expected any of this. Krillin wasn't snooty like he'd imagined, and it was beginning to seem as though maybe he wasn't the only normal kid around here, either. Or at least, not the only kid whose life wasn't fairytale perfect awesome.
"Then you have families like the König boys; no less likely to make you want to throw up in your mouth, but for different reasons. They're old money. I'm actually pretty sure they're lords or dukes or some shit like that, as if anyone cares about that these days. Anyway, they can do almost anything they like with their lives as long as their father approves, because they've got a massive income from investments and property, an enormous heap of assets that's not disappearing any time soon, and no real responsibilities career-wise. Their future's still defined by their money and their parents, though. The little one wants to be an artist or a musician or something useless like that and it'll never happen because the dad won't approve."
"So what do your parents do?" Goku asked, looking in at the elaborate computer labs.
Krillin made a choking noise. "My parents?"
"Yeah, you said it's important, right?"
"Uhh, not in this case. Let's not bother about that."
"Now you've just made me curious. Come on, what do they do?"
The smaller boy sighed heavily. "Alright, alright. If you really have to know..." he mumbled something unintelligible.
"What was that?"
"Plumbers, all right! My parents are plumbers who made the right business decisions at the right time and now there's a huge company and they've got all this property and we're rolling in it. Just... just don't tell anyone, alright? I've been telling people they're big time architects since first form and I don't intend to give it up with only two years to go."
"Okay, I won't tell anyone, but I don't get why it's such a big deal. One of my friends is going to be a plumber now he's left school. It's a pretty good job, I reckon. Maybe your parents could give him a job."
Krillin groaned. "Whatever. As long as you don't tell, we're fine."
"Then we're fine!" Goku grinned so broadly that Krillin couldn't help shaking his head and grinning with him.
"Come on, we're going to miss dinner if we're not quick."
For dinner, Goku was forcefully sat with a table full of other new students. He tried to chat with them, but they were serious-faced teenagers full of their own ambition and only wanted to discuss their study programmes, university choices and career plans. University wasn't for another two years, and Goku wasn't even sure he wanted to attend when the time came. He made many acquaintances at that table, but no friends. This was how he had imagined Orange Star College in the beginning, and he was glad he had met Krillin before anyone else.
He was even more grateful for Krillin's timing later that evening. Goku was sitting on his bed going over a brochure he had been given on 'games' at the school. He was more used to calling them sports, but his vocabulary was getting an overhaul just listening to the kids here.
The door opened and Goku sat up, suddenly alert. He still hadn't met the boy with whom he was to share the two person dorm.
"Hey so I've gone and dropped rugby for sailing but I think he's going to notice when he gets the-" the small boy who had been speaking stopped and frowned at Goku.
"Hi! I'm Goku." He grinned and held out his hand to shake. "Are you my room mate?"
"No." He shook the hand that was offered and looked around the room. "Have you seen my brother?"
"I don't even know what your brother looks like, sorry." He felt a little astonished by the boy's accent, which seemed to be conspiring to make Goku feel very small and uneducated just in the way it sounded its vowels.
"Like me. A little taller. He should be sitting right there." He gestured at a chair, sitting vacant in front of one the room's two desks. Goku shook his head. The boy sighed. Could a sigh sound ludicrously wealthy? Until this moment, Goku would have said no. Now he wasn't sure. "Well, I won't hang around then. If he comes back could you let him know that Tarble needs to speak to him and is feeling very harassed about the ceramics issue. Thanks."
Tarble, or at least Goku supposed he was the aforementioned Tarble, disappeared out the door again, and Goku was left on his own to ponder just how harassed someone could really get in relation to ceramics.
He wasn't alone for long before the door opened again, and Goku opened his mouth to tell Tarble that his brother hadn't come back before he realised this was the brother. A little taller, a little more athletic and a lot meaner, if the look Goku was getting was any indication.
"Hi!" he said, thrusting his hand out again. "I'm-"
"Are you Kakarrot Son?" he didn't speak so much as sneer; a long, low perfectly-enunciated drawl that expressed nothing but boredom and contempt for everything around him. Tarble's accent had made Goku feel small due mostly to his own insecurities; this boy, Goku thought, used his voice in a way that could make the queen feel like a homeless person asking for change.
"Uh, yeah, I guess so. You can call me Goku, though."
"Is or is not Kakarrot Son your name?"
"Well, technically I guess..."
"Then why would I call you anything else?" He turned his back to Goku and began pulling books from an as-yet-unpacked case at the foot of his bed, placing them on a shelf above the bed in some apparently intricate system. There was silence for a little while.
"I guess they told you my name, but I don't know yours yet."
"You didn't receive a room assignment sheet?" He turned around and looked at Goku with flat black eyes. "Vegeta König." He held out his hand this time, and Goku shook it eagerly.
"Your brother was here before. He said he needed to speak to you, and something about being harassed by ceramics." Vegeta shook his head and made a frustrated sound in the back of his throat. "König, huh? I heard about you earlier today. Apparently you're really rich and princes or kings or something like that?"
The corner of Vegeta's mouth tugged upwards ever so slightly and he made a 'heh' sound. Goku felt like he had won some indefinable battle. "Not quite."
"But you're something, right?" If Goku was going to school with a real noble he wanted to know about it. Especially if he was sharing a room with him.
"Sort of. My father is a duke. As the Heir Apparent to that title I have the right to style myself using his highest lower title. If I wish I can go around demanding people call me 'My Lord', but it's just a courtesy title. I don't really own any titles until my father dies."
Goku looked at him blankly. "The highest lower title?"
"Fine." He snapped, "I'm an earl. Is that easier for your little brain to handle?" Goku grinned and nodded. Vegeta was mumbling something about sharing a bedroom with an idiot, but Goku was unconcerned with that.
"My friends are never going to believe I'm going to school and sharing a room with an actual earl." He dove into one of his bags and fished out a mobile phone. "I've got to tell everyone."
Thoughts? Yes/no/kill it with fire? Also it probably looks like I'm going in a character bashing direction with, uh, basically everyone, (mostly Chichi in this chapter, poor girl) but this is touching on how the other students view them at this point, not who they actually are. Except Vegeta. That guy's a dick, amirite.
Please leave me a review! I don't often (read: ever) post things I write publicly, so I would appreciate any feedback, even if it's just 'omg u sux' flames.
Next time: Goku is taking classes at an academically selective school, oh dear. Bulma! Yamcha! ...Oolong?
