The Horse with No Name
Chapter Six
Apathy
The next few days follow a similar routine to Gohan's first. He wakes early, talks with Doctor Hezk about his childhood, is beaten up by Rixas, peruses the book collection in Mori's room, and then eats either by himself or with Rixas in said room. All in all, he could be having a worse time. The bed is comfortable and the food is admittedly excellent. He might just return to Earth three times wider than when he'd left, although he strangely hasn't regained his full appetite. Rixas, cheeks stuffed like a hamster, had told him that the crops grown in this realm harness more than usual nutrients in order to feed higher beings.
"I'm surprised you can eat as much as you can in a mortal body," he'd said one night, "though, it's probably because you're a saiyan. I'd once heard of a saiyan eating a God Apple in the pits of Hell some years ago… I wonder what it did to him…"
When it marks the three week point since Gohan's disappearance from Earth and progression feels to have hit a frustrating standstill, the teenager complains to Doctor Hezk during one of their sessions.
"Progress takes time," she cryptically says just with a touch of sympathy.
"I feel like all we've done is talk about my childhood. Really, you could probably write a book about me at this point."
Doctor Hezk giggles, and Gohan does too. They'd become friendlier over the couple weeks. No longer is the doctor nervous in his company, often engaging in small talk or explaining the details of the realm to him. She'd also shown him how to fasten a robe after Rixas had collapsed from laughter when Gohan had asked him. After that, she'd rummaged through his cupboards and explained how to wear the variety of cloaks and robes hanging there.
Today she'd gone through the method on how they record time so he can learn to say how old he is. Apparently it's measured by how long it takes for two of their moons pass each other in orbit. Gohan worked it out that it's about three of their years to every one Earth year, or something of wobbly equivalence. Going by this maths, Gohan would be around fifty-one or fifty-two in age. Doctor Hezk admitted to being eighty-three.
"And how old was Mori?"
"At death?"
"Yeah."
"Hmm… Thirty-three I think."
Gohan tilts his head. "So young."
Doctor Hezk nods in agreement. "Yes, it's rather young for a god. Lord Rixas is around about eighty-seven now, and Lord Quell is just under two-hundred-and-seventy-nine –which is still considered young."
He splutters. "Young? The teenager can't quite contain his jaw from dropping. "Quell doesn't even look half that age!"
She chuckles, closing her notebook and leaning back into the sofa. "Of course not. Gods don't age like mortals, and since when do you hear of mortals living into their millions?"
"…Millions?"
Thin brows raise and she nods.
Huh? …What?
"Wait," he breathes, looming forward dramatically. "Are you telling me that you mean…" His voice wilts and he hopes she catches his meaning. She does.
Her hands clasp together. "Oh! Wait! You thought I meant that he was only thir—no, Gohan, Lord Mori was thirty-three-million years old."
"Uwaaah! And Rixas—he's that old too? B-But, he's like a kid! In his head he's basically a child!"
Doctor Hezk is really laughing now, hiding her giggles behind the leathery spine of her notebook. Aghast, Gohan watches on as he lets the information sink in.
"Gohan, these are gods, what did you expect?"
His eyes balloon. "I don't know! My brain can't even comprehend that much time!"
It's something Gohan plans to bring up with Rixas later just out of the sheer curiosity of it. Being so impossibly old doesn't at all suit the guy, what with having the mental state of a golden retriever, one always sprinting in circles for his toys, except the toy isn't a ball or a bone but instead an overexerted Gohan after being battered about for a week straight. Even his dad doesn't push him this much. Really, if the hyperactive god isn't careful then he's going to break Gohan for good. No amount of medical aid or strange syrupy medicine they have (tastes like kiwi) will be able to do the teenager a world of good if he ends up dead.
As Doctor Hezk opens her book to the back page Gohan knows that he's in trouble. This can only mean that it's now time for the physical activities of their sessions: meditation. In the past he'd always been comfortable doing it, particularly with Piccolo out in the green stretches of the forests or perhaps under the rush of a waterfall. The white noise always helped him concentrate, something he'd told Doctor Hezk a couple days back just as an off comment, but she must have taken it in because on today's visit she's brought along a speaker. The crackles of static fill the vacancy between them and the teenager is reminded of rain thumping down on a car roof. If he didn't have to meditate he'd consider it soothing. He, however, does.
Again, it's not the meditation itself that's the problem but rather what the doctor hopes to achieve through the attempts.
"We're going to try and push through that boundary today, Gohan," she says.
"Boundary" is what she likes to say when she means to explore further than Gohan's memories, to explore past the things that make him him. He doesn't see the point because there really isn't anything beyond his own identity or consciousness. What she expects to discover is beyond him –there's only Gohan knocking around in his head. He thinks he'd know otherwise, thanks!
Still, Gohan knows to be polite. "Okay, sure. Want me to sit on the floor again?"
"Wherever you're comfortable," Doctor Hezk replies, looking ever more amused as he reduces himself down to the floor and into a cross-legged position. She'd seem so tickled the first time he'd done it too. Gohan guesses that it's not in Lord Mori's personality to be so casual –that the contrast is something that might turn heads.
"Yeah, floor is good. Floor is fine."
"If you say so…" But she's smiling all the same as she trails her finger down the page. "Okay, let's see where we got to last time. Hmm… Ah, here. We stopped because," she sighs, "because you fell asleep. That's right, I remember now."
"I said I was sorry! I just think your voice is really relaxing! I didn't mean to-"
"Mm-hmm."
Gohan's face warms in embarrassment. That hum is the doctor's way of showing her frustration, her protest without chiding him in the way he's sure she would if he was just any other patient. Even if her nervousness seems to have faded, Gohan can still feel that he's been placed upon a pedestal of some kind.
Regardless, he feels bad. "I'm sorry."
Doctor Hezk turns up the white noise. "Are you ready?"
He shuffles into an upright position. "I am."
"And no falling asleep this time?"
"No, I'll be good."
"Okay, close your eyes," her voice has now adopted a softer approach. It's wispy and almost musical in how she delivers her syllables. Her whispers are barely audible over the hush of white noise, and he really has to focus on what she's saying to hear her right. "I want you to find your comfortable place, the place where you feel lightness and spiritual buoyancy in which you really disconnect from this world and any. Tell me when you reach that place."
Gohan's done this several times with her now so he knows what she wants him to do. Piccolo long ago taught him how to reach his centre. It takes a special kind of tranquillity within oneself to do it, and whilst it's been difficult to do it in troubling circumstances such as these, Gohan's proudly managed it.
Anxious or not, he finds that place within himself and tells the doctor so.
"So now just let yourself relax into that mental space for a little while. Take a moment to be truly comfortable."
Then, something tickles under Gohan's nose. Does he smell lavender?
She must have noticed his expression because she talks again, still using that whimsical tone. "I'm burning a serenity candle. It'll help to keep you calm and focused."
For lavender it smells remarkably strong. There's nothing subtle about the perfume whatsoever, taking a hold of his senses and wracking them with its sweetness as it weaves through his nostrils and straight to his head.
"It-It's pretty strong."
"Deep breaths now, Gohan."
When he does as asked he realises how wrong he'd been to do so. His chest fills and his head spins. That tranquil place deep within spirals on its axis, twisting and turning unnaturally as it swings Gohan along for the ride. Another breath is taken, and then another, just because he doesn't know what else to do when his eyes refuse to open.
Colours dance sultrily around in the darkness as the lavender breathes life into his own personal rainbow.
"What is that stuff?" he tries to demand. Instead, his words are lethargic.
"This time we're not going to talk about your childhood or your victories in battle," she goes on to say, ignoring him, "I just want you to remember something personal. However small it is it doesn't matter, only that it means something to you."
The memories fly at him quicker than usual, vastly so. Over the last week Gohan's not struggled per say, but not really dug as deep as he could have to seek the required answers. Now, the answers seek him. A swam of personal and highly moving feelings batter him in an array of colours. The purples beat at his back, the blues his front, and the orange, solo in its venture, dives towards his face.
He grasps that one because of its boldness, because deep down Gohan's sure that this is the memory that means the most to him.
When he sees it play out, Gohan's only more confused. There's no luxury of place, weather or a setting. He only sees the simplicity of one thing: the back of his dad's gi. He watches it as it grows smaller with distance. It's moving away from him, the Turtle insignia growing miniscule as it shrinks and shrinks into obscurity. His hand reaches out on instinct; his legs try to move only for him to discover that they're now made from cement, when he shouts there's not a sound that comes out. Gohan's stuck there, alone, as the back of his father becomes a pinprick memory against the fade of black.
"Do you have one?" comes her voice.
His mouth betrays him, slurring. "My dad-"
"Shh, don't say it. Just feel it."
He does. He really feels it.
"I don't like this-"
"Why? What emotions are you experiencing?"
"I –I…" I don't know.
The orange isn't bright anymore, but now a dull amber that steals all the light. Gohan watches as the black swallows the dot, the light, and then at how it snaps at any lingering positivity that might still reside within.
His chest is heavy.
"Gohan?"
"Frustrated," he finally admits. It's the only word he can think of which best describes how he feels, and then; "tired, sick… I-I feel…"
I just hurt.
"Gohan?"
"I don't know."
Yes, I do.
The weight pulls him free from his place of serenity, the lavender making his nose dry, the white noise screaming so loud that he's really sure that he might actually be next to his and Piccolo's waterfall. It's all too much. The lavender is too much.
"Daddy!"
That was his voice; it feels like it'd just ripped from his chest. The rip tears downwards and it's as if Gohan's falling with the rip, bouncing between the uneven stitches of his emotions, flittering between hot and cold. Other memories now join. There's Cell and Buu, there's the saiyans; an uncomfortable image which includes a much younger Vegeta. His sneers makes Gohan want to turn and run straight for his old mentor.
It's a flipbook of memories. People of varying importance cameo dizzily as Gohan tries to regain himself, and then…
A curtain of blond; it falls like silk as it draws closer. Golden eyes peer from behind the veil under dark lashes, glowing dangerously as the mouth below silently speaks to him. Whatever is being said must be menacing if only due to the slick delicacy it's being said with. A shiver runs down his spine when those eyes finally connect with his own.
They're mine.
It's a mirror.
Winded, Gohan splutters from the shock of it. It's too much. It's now definitely too much; his chest hurts. He jolts forward hard, finally free from the hold of the lavender and free from the image of gold. The room is hazy now, most likely from the candle, and he can see the doctor's concerned expression from behind her facemask.
"Gohan!" she calls out. Her hands reach his upper arms and she shakes him gently. "What did you see? Was it a memory?"
He rubs at his throat, coughing, and suddenly furious. "What is that stuff?!"
There's something sheepish about how she looks up at him. "It's herbal, don't worry. I didn't do anything ba-"
Gohan recoils from her. "Did you drug me?!"
"You finally broke through," she defends, still on her own personal high of witnessing the fruits of her labour. "We're getting closer to unearthing some truth. Isn't that exciting, Gohan?"
His mouth parts as he considers the way her face lights up. It's disgusting. He's disgusted. She'd drugged him.
Unable to stand the stillness, Gohan stands, albeit a bit wobbly, and gestures towards the door. "I want you to leave… please."
"…Gohan..."
"Go, now…" His forehead creases in tight folds as he finds himself too frustrated to even look at her. "Please just… I'm pretty angry."
Doctor Hezk looks remarkably torn, which annoys Gohan further because he knows it's her curiosity which still guides her, leading her down a path complicit in making him want to blow the entire estate up. How dare she just… give him drugs? Who does that?
"Leave!" he orders, and she jumps up from the sofa right away.
Gohan silently watches her collect her belongings, including that burnt out candle he wants to launch through the window and into the forest.
Before she reaches the door she offers a low bow. "My apologies, my lord."
Gohan's so annoyed that he doesn't bother correcting her. The door pulls closed and he sinks back down to the sofa.
That face from the memory makes him feel queasy.
So gold…
For once, sparring comes at a good time for him. No more does Rixas collect him from his room like a child minder, instead choosing to meet him on the grassy plain by the river that they've grown fond of. The purple of the sky appears to have soured to a dour greyish-lilac and the trickles of rain pinprick the skin coolly as Gohan makes his way across the grounds. No other people come out this way which is why he suspects Rixas chose this area in the first place, especially considering he's now mentioned on multiple occasions that he likes to train in the courtyard more so than anywhere else.
Gohan's a bit later than usual and so Rixas is already about half way into his stretching routine by the time the teenager gets there.
The bounce of blond bobs up. "Oh, you're pissed. What happened?"
"N-Nothing."
Rixas shakes his head and lowers to stretch out his hamstring. "It's all over your face but if you don't wanna' talk about it I won't force you."
"Right."
"But being in a bad mood won't help you with your terrible form."
Gohan ignores the jab, gritting his teeth.
"Maybe you could give my form a try toda-"
He clicks is tongue, and then with a sharp tone, the teenager interrupts; "can we just do this?"
Peering up, Rixas coos at him; a long high-pitched sound which tests Gohan not to throttle him.
"Fine," the teenager sulks as he turns a shoulder, "I'll just go back to my ro-"
"Mori!" he then calls, laughing at Gohan's misfortune and making the latter feel even more irritated, "don't be like that, come on, I'm just playing."
"I don't want to play," Gohan then insists, "I just want to go home and all of you are stopping me! I want to go back to my family, I want to see my friends, my girlfriend, and yet three weeks have passed by with nothing to show for it!"
Rixas crosses his arms and surveys Gohan's budding rage.
So Gohan continues, the heat churning as his frustration starts to spill out of him. "All this time we've done nothing but spar –well, more like you beating me up, all the while my family are back home on Earth worrying about me. Yet you don't even let me contact them! None of you let me contact them! I just want to talk to my da-"
"It's not me," Rixas interrupts, "I'm not stopping you from doing anything."
"Th-Then help me!" he splutters, exasperated.
Rixas quirks a smile and shrugs his shoulder. "Sorry, no can do. I said it's not me stopping you. Rather, I should've said that Quell is the one keeping you grounded here. He's the boss so I've gotta' comply. You know, only limited people can have access to you until you stop being a potato."
"Ugh. Stop saying that!"
"Lighten up," he continues. "You're not a prisoner-"
But Gohan disagrees. "That's exactly what I am."
The god laughs, tilting his head back to expose the sharp glint of gold from his eyes. "Oh yeah? Then you're not trying very hard to break out. Earth can't be that special to ya if you're brunching with me every morning."
The teenager's fists clench. "I'm trying to cooperate."
There's a click of the tongue from the blond. "Is that what you think? You've not tried at all, Mori."
"Gohan," Gohan seethes because the fire in his stomach is starting to spit, starting to rile him up. "My name is Gohan, and I am trying."
One second has Rixas several feet away from him and the next has him so close in front of the teenager that Gohan nearly tumbles over from the surprise of it. He's tall; Rixas, looming over Gohan by several inches and posing an intimidating aura without the effort of really trying. Even with his placid smile, Rixas sends a vibration of nerves through Gohan.
Rows of pearly white teeth shine back as he speaks in his low tones. "You aren't trying. You've not been able to touch me all week, and I don't think it's for a lack of power because I can sense that you've got a bit about you –pretty good considering your mortal body- yet…" He sighs. "I don't think you're interested in giving me a good fight at all…"
"I'm not," Gohan replies, eyes thinning, "I just wa-"
Rixas pushes him and the teenager falls flat against the grass, bottom throbbing.
"You wanna' go home? Fine. If you beat me then I'll help you. In fact, I'll take you there myself. How does that sound?"
From the ground, Gohan glares. "You're lying. There's no point in fighting. I'm outmatched, severely so."
Rixas laughs. "What a lousy attitude, little brother." He then steps over the teenager's fallen form as if avoiding a pile of mess, as if Gohan is just an obstacle between him and the pathway. Collecting his bag in a smooth swoop, he turns and spares Gohan a look over his shoulder. "I don't feel like fighting today. I feel kinda' put off. When you feel like putting in a bit of effort then you can find me in the courtyard."
And for the second time that day, Gohan's left alone to boil from the inside. Time passes as he sits upon the grassy plain, and it takes a while for him to collect himself. His thoughts are tainted with bubbling annoyance, everything looks moodier to him now, and he's filling with quick resentment. This isn't him, but this is what this place is doing to him.
So it's Quell who's stopping me contacting my family…
It's not a reassuring thought. Gohan hasn't encountered the guy at all since coming to the estate, daring only to wander around the quarters assigned to him and in the grounds close to the river. In reality, the grounds run long and immeasurably into the distance. All Gohan knows is that there's a courtyard there, one where Rixas is probably training right now.
Rixas…
Gohan scowls. It just scorches him to think about the guy. During Gohan's time here it wouldn't have been a stretch to say that he'd been growing fond of the god, enjoying his company –well, until the idiot would take it too far just like he'd done today.
He kicks an offending pebble into the shrubbery.
"I have been trying," he complains, "even though all this is stupid." It sounds like something Goten would say and Gohan feels a little embarrassed with the snotty nature of it. "I'm no god," he then proceeds to tell a neighbouring tree, "why aren't they listening to me?"
The foliage offers little in response and so Gohan just sighs. The surrounding forest, whilst an excellent listener, seems not to have an answer for the teenager, giving him little reason in wanting to hover around. So he walks, and walks, exploring the different clearings, and passing old and unused buildings resembling the quaint builds one can spot in a history book back on Earth. And with being back on the subject of Earth Gohan starts to feel depressed once again. The sullen stroll leads him back to the estate about an hour or so later, but it's at an opposing side to where he usually comes out, nowhere near his quarters but instead nearing a grand entrance Gohan assumes to be a centre exit.
He approaches it if just a little warily, praying that the intensity of Quell's aura doesn't suddenly appear; that would be disastrous. Really, only so much can go wrong in one day. Thankfully no such pressure appears and Gohan's left to it as he passes through the well-kept gardens leading up to a grand set of doors. Centre stage sits a fountain, one large and round, home to the polka dots of lily pads, and extravagantly gaudy enough to look at home in Mister Satan's mansion. With the path circling around it Gohan has to follow, and he traces his fingertips across the stone wall of the fountain as he passes. The water sitting on the surface offers a troubling reflection behind its ripples, one where those eyes stare back, golden and not at all his.
Mori's eyes…
They blaze just like Rixas' eyes. No wonder he'd recognized Gohan's frustration; the manic glow burns impossibly hot, signalling radiant distress which is only highlighted by the fierce pinching of brows. For a second Gohan can barely recognize himself.
He recalls that vision, the horrid thing born from drug use –God, what would his parents say if they knew? Drugs, him? No, never.
Still, the effect was apparent. He can remember what he saw clear as day.
Golden eyes peer from behind the veil under dark lashes, glowing dangerously as the mouth below silently speaks to him.
He splashes at the water. The gold blurs and he stalks off in the direction of the doors. The teenager dares not to think of it again, trying to focus on his goal of surviving his time here and not getting too wrapped up in all the nonsense. Before long, he'll be back home on Earth and back to studying for college and back to spending time with his dad out in the mountains, sparring between the rare but equally enjoyable fishing breaks.
It's not fair. He'd just gotten his dad back only a few short months ago and now this happens. It's like the two are destined not to ever be together. Gohan groans into the crook of his hands, really working himself up, as he takes steps towards the doors. Just why should they expect him to put his all into it? Gohan is not Mori. Gohan is just some kid from Earth who wants to go back and hang out with his dad without having to panic about some danger on the horizon.
As Gohan reaches for the door handle he stops, hearing two voices from the other side.
"Another lie from you once again," says one voice, heated in its muffle.
"I have not lied to you, my lo-"
"Three more Zealites were spotted on the grounds just this week. How you continue to look me in the face and lie only strengthens my belief of your inadequacy."
"We have nothing to do with that organization."
There's a bout of silence until a whirlwind of noise follows. "Don't think you can deceive me! You think I will accept this disrespect, this daring, lying down? The Zealites took one from me and they shan't take another, not again!"
"My lord-"
"I'm warning you –all of you- that if I manage to secure one of these persons then I'll make their existence full of displeasure, and then I'll find their sponsors and bring a world of ruin to them too."
"We have had problems with this organization ourselves. They've infil-"
The teenager moves away, not liking where any of this is going. Knowing that it's not his place to eavesdrop, he takes a step backwards onto the steps. However, he miscalculates the step, causing him to stumble forwards against the door. He doesn't mean to but Gohan slams the door ajar with an almighty clang. It shakes the opposing walls, making the sound ricochet past the entry way and down into the depths of the estate.
Uh, I hope no-one heard that.
And because today really hasn't proved to be going in Gohan's favour, he finds that that hope is thrown right back into his face and that he's just walked into the fray of an on-going conversation. The participants look up in surprise, one the face of an individual resembling a kai and the other; Quell.
Gohan gulps and immediately traces his steps backwards, but it's too late. Quell's intense pressure has the teenager still his legs, cementing him to the ground as both onlookers watch him with their questioning gazes.
"I suppose we'll end this here then," says the kai (?) somewhat curtly.
Quell doesn't take his eyes off of Gohan. The gold is shriller than ever, harsher than Rixas' could ever dream to be.
"Yes," Quell finally replies with equal sharpness.
There's a short bow from the kai to Quell, one unacknowledged with the latter too occupied with staring Gohan down. The kai then makes moves to slink past the both of them, eyeing Gohan with an unrecognizable flash of emotion across the face as he goes. Gohan wants to follow, to chase him through the doors, but finds himself still glued down. Quell's energy steals his will.
It's been a short while since Gohan has seen the man, yet the discomfort still resides strongly within. At the Spire, Quell's presence had not only made the teenager uncomfortable but the entire population of the hospital too. Perhaps it's a strange magic tied to the god, or maybe it's how he uses his ki (which is strange because Gohan still can't sense it); he doesn't know, but he does know that the weight nauseates him. It nauseates him so much that he wishes he could just fall unconscious where he stands and deal with very little of it.
Quell's upturned lip stresses into an even fouler grimace. "Your mortal form disgusts me, Mori."
Gohan balks. He's not a model or anything but no-one has ever called him ugly to his face. Then he realises that Quell isn't talking about his appearance because apparently Mori and Gohan do share similar features. Does Gohan's hair bother the guy? Surely it's more than that.
"When you denounce your mortality then you'll be more palatable to be around," Quell continues. His hair falls in graceful waves, blond against white, and he takes a step towards the teenager. "Until then I don't want you nearing my quarters again. Should I see you here once more then I'll chain you to your chamber, do you understand?"
It takes Gohan a long second to realise that it's not a hypothetical question and that an answer is expected. When he meets Quell's eyes all he can do is nod. Words become too much for him.
Th-This pressure… I think I'm going to be sick.
A gloved hand reaches out and drags Gohan's hunching form upright. Quell isn't too much taller than him but he feels mountains high.
Those icy eyelashes flutter, and with a whisper; "now go."
And Gohan does, urged by the pressure. He makes it out with unsteady legs, quavering for ten minutes until he can't take anymore. When given the opportunity, he throws up into the closest bush at hand.
It's not until an hour later and safe back in his chamber does Gohan think it wise to take up Doctor Jivel's offer to call him. The computer is easy enough to use, much simpler than the devices back on Earth. With voice command it's a slick process which helps him achieve what he needs to do. Lanit-Tongue with its cursive design does show up on a regular basis, but it's not such a demanding presence that it misleads him into doing something he shouldn't.
When Gohan speaks Doctor Jivel's name into the mic, a small dot on the front of the screen, an information box pops up. He remembers to repeat the name again and say yes. Then, an animation appears; signalling that the call has been made and all Gohan can do is wait.
"Lord Mori," greets a voice from the speakers. A video feed follows up on the computer of the doctor. He's in uniform and in an undisclosed office somewhere presumably in the Spire.
"Doctor Jivel," Gohan breathes. He's genuinely happy to see the man. After being stuck in this madhouse for a week it's finally nice to see a friendly face. "I didn't disrupt you did I?"
The doctor, amused, shakes his head. He looks tired but otherwise not too run off his feet. "Just some paperwork today, luckily. I've had to sign off on some of Doctor Hezk's work."
Gohan frowns. "Oh, so you've spoken to her?"
"I have."
"Today?"
"Today; an hour ago, in fact."
Awkwardly, the teenager takes a seat in Mori's computer chair. It's as comfortable and plush as the bed itself. "So… er," he coughs, "did she tell you about what happened today?"
Doctor Jivel strokes at his chin with a knowing smile. "She did."
"And?"
"And what, sir?"
The doctor's playing dumb, clearly wanting Gohan to elaborate his own twist on the story. But Gohan wants to hear what Doctor Jivel has to say first before he makes an idiot out of himself. He'd gotten angry, furiously so, at Doctor Hezk this morning after she'd drugged him. That kind of anger is rare in him these days, and so it makes him feel all the more silly despite knowing that she'd been in the wrong.
"Doctor," Gohan says, staring into the camera with a heavy expression, "you know why I'm angry. Please don't play games. This is all they do here at the estate and I'm just no good at it."
Doctor Jivel hums knowingly, leaning back in his own chair. "You're out of your comfort zone, aren't you, Gohan?"
"Yes." Very, very much so. "It's like they have the inability to be straight forward, like-"
"Like you're speaking a different language?"
"Yes. Rixas always seems like he wants something more from me, like he's waiting for Mori to suddenly appear in a cloud of smoke. Even when he thinks I'm not looking I notice. He keeps calling me 'little brother' as though 'Mori' isn't bad enough, and insisting I spar with him daily."
"Interesting. And you're able to keep up?"
The teenager leans forward. "No, I'm not! He's a god, doctor! I can't quite possibly match him. He's a machine!"
"Understandable," he responds levelly. It's not at all the reaction Gohan wanted from him. He should be spitting that Rixas has dragged him out to fight, especially considering that Gohan's still not in top form.
Gohan's brow furrows. "And today… He… I mean, he has no right to be annoyed with me. He's the one who keeps spouting such rude things!"
"You had words?"
"More like he stormed off like some kid." Gohan's cheeks tinge because that's not the entire truth. Guilt gets the better of him and so he adds, "he'd said I hadn't been trying."
"With sparring?"
He shrugs. "I don't know. I guess."
"Hmm." There's quite a break of silence from the doctor, one which causes Gohan to tear his eyes away from his shoes and back up to the screen, to where he sees the doctor study him with a keen eye. "Perhaps he's referring to something else. Have you thought that?"
Gohan jolts, the frustration quick to return. "Like what?"
"Well, let's go back to today's meeting with Doctor Hezk. She'd been quite shaken after your session this morning-"
No, he won't stand for this. Gohan hits a fist against his table. "She drugged me."
"A serenity candle is little different from your basic herbs, Gohan," he downplays, making him feel even more frustrated. Before Gohan gets a word in the doctor continues. "I've used far more potent drugs and vaccines for a common cold than one of those old things. Don't look at me like that. I'm not saying that she should have done it without consulting either me or Lord Quell, and I've written her up on that, but it's hardly anything to throw a fuss over. And really, Gohan, what choice have you given her in the end?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Okay now, I'm going to ask you a question and I want you to be as honest as possible here, alright?"
Gohan shuffles upright in the chair. "Right…"
"Have you really been giving this your all?"
"My… all?"
He puts it into different words. "Have you really tried recounting Lord Mori's memories, have you tried engaging seriously with Lord Rixas, have you really tried your best to search for the truth?"
Gohan sucks in a gust of air. He knows the truth. This entire thing is a mistake and so he tells the doctor.
"And what if it's not, Gohan?" pushes Doctor Jivel snappily, "and what if you're standing in the way of what needs uncovering, of justice?"
"It's just not possible," he tries, but the doctor's expression only darkens.
"Lord Mori's body was found by Lord Quell in the very spot in which you sit right now. Murdered."
A cold dread runs down Gohan's spine as the image of the doctor stares him down. Suddenly very self-conscious, the teenager peers around the space, trying to imagine the crumpled form of the god, trying to imagine those gold eyes listless.
"I didn't know he was murdered," Gohan says in a small voice.
From out of nowhere, Quell's words from earlier spring to mind. He remembers the heat in the god's voice.
"Don't think you can deceive me! You think I will accept this disrespect, this daring, lying down? The Zealites took one from me and they shan't take another, not again!"
The Zealites… Who are these people? Are they the ones who killed Mori? Is that why Quell is the way that he is?
It's as if the doctor can read Gohan's mind because he next tells him; "you don't need to worry about the logistics of it, at least for now… just be aware that this may come up in the future."
"Then why aren't people telling me these things?" he demands hotly, "you want me to cooperate but you won't let me in on anything."
"And you won't be the longer you insist you aren't Lord Mori," counters the doctor, "you can't have it both ways. You earn this information, Gohan. You earn it when you learn to put more effort into trying to discovering the truth of who you really are. Your reports from Doctor Hezk indicated that you had a breakthrough this morning and perhaps that is what has you so indignant now. What did you see? Was it truly so troubling?"
Eyes… golden eyes…
Gohan doubles down. "I didn't see anything."
"What a terrible liar you are."
"It's the truth."
"Then that's no truth I subscribe to," he replies simply. "If you want to be secretive then be it on your head, young man, but understand that the only person in your way is you. You want to return home so much? Then assist us, assist us with your effort, your attitude, your will. There's no point in you only giving a fraction of yourself when we require the entire being."
"I am tryi-"
"Do you really believe that, Gohan?" Doctor Jivel leans forward. "Would your father? Your mentor? Would you respond to their requests in such a fashion?"
"B-B…" His voice dies because he has no answer for that. Instead, Gohan groans. It's a deep, long sound accompanied by a pair of hands running down his face. Absently, he hears Doctor Jivel creak back in his chair. "Doctor," Gohan attempts, tired –so very tired- from today, "I really, really, don't believe I'm Lord Mori."
The doctor's hardness drains from his face. Something soft replaces it. "That's because, Gohan, you don't think yourself important enough." The teenager deflates, accepting the truth. Doctor Jivel offers a smile as he tastes victory. "Ask yourself; if this was anyone else what would you believe? What would be your advice to them?"
Gohan leans back in his own chair, admiring the ceiling.
"I don't know."
"Then listen to someone who does have some advice… It's time for you to try a little harder, okay?"
The teenager continues to stare upwards, watching the patterns of the ceiling spiral together in its coat of paint. The white and grey delicately come together.
Gohan's shocked by a morbid thought when he stares for too long.
Is this the last thing you saw before you died, Mori?
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Once again, thank you to KagariAsuha for editing this chapter. She does it so my eyes don't have to bleed. What an absolute 11/10. Aaand, she had to remind me to tell you (because I keep forgetting to mention it) that this fic uses the manga ages rather than the anime ages. So Gohan defeated Cell at 9, was 16 when fighting Buu and is 17 at this point in the story. Goten would be around 14 in his section of the fic. Keep your maths hat on because we're going to be doing age hopping in the future.
A massive thanks for the reviews this chapter. I jokingly said that once I hit over 30 reviews I'd update then and there, and then I hit just that and was like... oh. So... yeah, here's a quick update. As a break for myself I'll update when I hit 40, haha. C7 is being written now and should be out in a few weeks max... unless my internet decides to not work -which happens. I've mentioned to a couple of people who follow this story that I actually live in China. And in China we don't have free internet (we MUST use a VPN to access most day to day sites). Sometimes FF doesn't enjoy working so if I don't reply or take ages to do so that's why. Siiigh.
Also, I'm really enjoying theories and ideas being thrown around! I can't wait to get into the thick of it.
That's all from me. Cheers, folks. See you on the next one!
