Chapter 16

Disclaimer: I do not own any of Akira Toriyama's characters or Dragon Ball/Z, only a handful of OCs.

/

My lips slowly curled into a serene smile. "It's something else, isn't it?" A crisp breeze rustled my bangs.

From my lap, arms wrapped loosely around my neck, Samantha nodded, her curly hair tickling my chin. "Mhm…"

We were floating high above Capsule Corporation. It was barely visible beneath us.

"I wish I could see the moon up close," she'd said. And so her wish was my command. The crescent moon was hanging beautifully amongst the stars, and we were its captivated audience.

Sigh… Something about this girl… was just special. I'd never put much thought into what it would've been like to have a daughter, not with the kind of life I lead before. I was relieved to have had a son, and content with my decision to avoid getting pregnant again. But… something about the idea of a daughter now was just really… nice.

Vegeta scoffed at our mother-daughter relationship in the beginning, calling her my human pet. I waved him off every time.

She and I had been spending time together almost every day for the past five months. She was an orphan. Her "institution" was a joke. Bulma and I believed Samantha when she said there was no physical abuse, but the negligence there was obvious.

How in the hell do you let a fourteen-year old girl go unaccounted for like that every day? She'd been with me, but… they didn't really know that. Or care to know that.

'And so… here we are…' I would have taken us higher, but she'd been more than a little afraid of our altitude.

As I inhaled the cool autumn air, her petite body stiffened before she let out several rough coughs; ugly ones, sounding like a congested dog. My eyebrows knit together in concern. "Why hasn't your cold gone away yet?"

Samantha had been sick on and off for weeks, if not over a month.

"I… don't know." She tipped her head down a bit and I could feel her fingers fidgeting behind my neck.

"I see…" I arched an eyebrow in suspicion at her response.

Well, it was about time to take her back anyway. It was getting late.

…

The Next Week:

"Today's the day!"

I looked up from tying my boot laces as Bulma entered the living area flaunting several papers. A large grin broke across my face. "You're serious? It went through?"

Smiling, she placed her free hand daintily across her chest as she struck an elegant pose. "It looks like I'm officially… a foster mother!" she stated dramatically, but then fell into normal posture, waving off what she'd said. "Well, on paper. The rest is up to you," she finished.

I chuckled at Bulma, zipping up my leather jacket over my black turtleneck. "You don't know how much this means to me… or how much it will mean to her."

The Capsule Corp heiress sat on the sofa as I stood, holding out the documents for me. "Yeeeah, I surprise myself with my own humility sometimes," she replied with a boastful smile, making herself comfortable. "But I think she got me at 'I wanna be an engineer when I grow up'."

Scanning the official, finalized adoption papers in my hands drew a contented sigh from me. "Today is the day alright…" Looking back up at my brother's mate, I smirked. "I'm off to deliver the good news."

As I brought my fingers up to my forehead, Bulma waved farewell just before the scenery transformed. An odd, chemical scent hit my nose unexpectedly, and as I removed my obscuring hand, my confused expression morphed into shock.

There was a large window in front of me, a counter and small television to my right, and a bed to my left…

The outline of small feet caught my gaze, and as my eyes traveled farther up I saw wires… an IV in a small, dark wrist…

A numbing sensation crept through my body.

Tubes… leading up to a mask.

"S-Samantha..!" My heart skipped a beat as I walked closer, zombie-like. I barely registered the slow, patterned beeps of the machine monitoring her heartrate. Dropping the papers near her feet, I moved to her side, leaning in. "Hey… hey… Sam, what happened?" I whispered.

One blue eye cracked open, followed by the other. She looked so incredibly frail and weak… Why?

Seemingly there to answer my burning questions, the doctor entered the room. "Oh? I was told this patient had no relatives or friends."

"I am her adoptive mother," I responded with a scowl. Turning back to Samantha, I brandished the adoption papers for her with a tender smile. "Look, Samantha. It was supposed to be a surprise… We adopted you… All you have to do is get better now so I can take you home…"

But something didn't feel right… something wasn't right…

"Ma'am… I regret having to say this, but that might not be happening."

I turned my sharpened stare onto the older male. I could feel my eyes watering as I clenched my teeth.

"She developed pneumonia, and it's been going on for some time now… At this rate, it doesn't look like the antibiotics will be able to help her in time…"

As he explained the severity of the fluid in her lungs for such a prolonged period, and that death would be likely, my heart reacted so strongly that I gasped, laying a hand over the pained area of my chest. My mind was in a fuzz, and when it finally cleared, I found that I'd collapsed into a chair that was beside me. The papers in my grasp where moments from slipping away.

The doctor spoke, then left the room, but I barely registered it. Not until I had leaned over the side of the bed, head in hands, did a delicate touch on my forearm pull me back to reality.

Samantha had turned her face in my direction. The oxygen mask was fogged up, preventing me from being able to see any sort of expression underneath her tired eyes.

I couldn't articulate anything out loud… This was my fault… I knew she was sick and taking medicine, but I always had to take her out. Always, in the damn cool weather! Rain or shine, day, or night, because I wanted to entertain the kids… Never once stopping to think of the frailty of humankind.

My eyes started stinging with unshed tears. I looked down, biting my lip, shaking my head in shame.

But her small fingers curled around the fabric of my jacket, tugging my arms towards her.

I looked back up, pain clear in my expression, wondering what she wanted.

…

An hour later I was curled up in bed with Samantha. She remained laying on her back, but I was cuddled up to her left, resting on my side.

The silence in the room allowed me to hear her breathing for what it truly was; wheezy and clogged sounding, something no human could pick up without a stethoscope. It was terrible to listen to, and was the constant tug on my slowly falling tears.

Whether she was asleep or not, I couldn't tell. My head was nestled atop hers, chin nestled in soft, orange curls. My left arm was draped delicately over the girl. One of her petite hands rested softly over my hand.

But suddenly she was moving, reaching weakly for something on the small table to her right. When a notepad and pen were securely in her hand, Samantha began writing slowly, handwriting wobbly, as if she were using the opposite hand.

I love you, it said.

Blinking my watery eyes, I sniffled once, smiling, before laying my cheek back on top of her head. "I know." My voice wavered. "I love you too." For a few foggy moments my sights were settled onto the small television across the room, even as I felt her moving more; writing more. I eventually sat back up to glance down again.

Can you grant a dying girl's last wish?

Those words hit me like my brother's fist in my gut. I clenched my teeth, gulping once—took a deep breath. "Of course."

She wrote some more, and my eyes followed the slow progression of words. 'Can… I… have… a— kiss—?'

Kiss?

I was glad to be sitting up higher than Samantha. She couldn't see my utterly confused expression, lips parted and eyebrows knitted together. Floundering for words to say as she turned to look up at me, I finally spat out "Y-yeah..." and leaned down, planting a soft kiss on her forehead. Obviously that's what she'd meant.

But then the redhead let out a small grunt, the first noise I'd heard her make since arriving. She was removing her mask… "No—" she said in a hoarse croak. "A... real one…"

My mouth opened but no words came out. My head was slightly turned away but I still held eye contact.

Had I just heard right?

Or… had something been going over my head… for months..?

My heart began beating a bit harder. 'She wants me, an adult, to kiss her? A—a young girl—I'm an adult—'

And she was staring up at me, blue eyes sparkling once more despite the deep circles beneath them, cheeks flushed and lips parted. I could feel that her breath was bated, too.

Shit… I couldn't deny Samantha her death wish…

Eyelids slightly lowering, I thought to myself, 'It's not like I've never kissed a female before, but the age gap wasn't like this… sigh… why didn't I see this coming… All the blushing and gushing and… ugh…'

Forcing a small quirk of a smile, I nodded, pretending to appear at ease. "Alright… close your eyes."

Here eyelids shut and my smile faded as I sighed softly. Reaching over with my left hand, I cupped her cheek. She flinched ever so slightly, most likely out of anticipation.

'What am I doing?' I frowned briefly, knowing this would always be something that would follow me for the rest of my life. I couldn't tell if this was right or wrong… but I leaned in anyway, pressing my lips fully against hers. I held on for a slow two seconds, just long enough to acknowledge that had she not been sick and dying, her lips would've been less chapped, and most likely very soft.

I pulled away, releasing a more audible sigh. Samantha's eyes remained closed, but a bashful smile was forming as she buried her face into the side of my chest.

Soon enough I turned my head completely away, towards the window. My expression was far from blushing bliss…

'Sick and dying…' I reiterated in my head. My teeth sunk into my bottom lip in an attempt to distract from the heat returning to my eyes.

There would be no later talk about how what had just occurred was inappropriate, or how she would have to adjust as we became a family unit. I had simply fulfilled a dying girl's wish… that's all.

A rough and extremely congested cough tore from her throat, startling me from my brooding. I moved to quickly replace the oxygen mask, but Samantha's face was partially buried into my jacket. "S-Sam—" My voice cracked as I tried desperately to blink away tears.

There was a short struggle, akin to trying to get an oblivious animal or small child to take a pill, but eventually she was breathing in the medical oxygen again.

The small exchange seemed to drain me though, and I found myself laying back completely, eyes closing, a pained expression stuck on my face.

Some time passed… and I found myself becoming sleepy, the background hum of oxygen tanks and monitor beeps lulling me further. Samantha's weight on the right side of my body was comforting…

When Mr. Brief stepped aside to let Midori confront the unannounced visitor, the girl in question, Samantha, became very still.

The young teen was not met with the edgy young man she'd perceived in a hoodie the previous evening, but a tall, hawk-eyed woman. A woman… a well-endowed woman in spandex shorts and a sports bra.

Samantha's eyes widened, and she began feeling fuzzy-headed. Was this the feeling all the older girls talked about back in the orphanage? But this was no "hot guy"… this was a grown woman; sharp and intimidating… Carved thickly, but with muscle tone that needed no verbal threat.

Midori's eyes narrowed down at the gaping redhead. Another moment passed and she asked "How did you find this place?"

And a voice like… the comforting sound of thunder in the distance… low but seducti—

Samantha suddenly slapped both hands over her reddened face, shaking it with exaggerated force.

Midori's brow furrowed as she took a sip from her water bottle.

"I JUST WANTED TO THANK YOU!" The girl exclaimed, throwing her hands aside to reveal her brightened cheeks. "FOR SAVING ME!"

The saiyan couldn't help a short chuckle as she closed her eyes, leaning against the doorway.

…

Samantha gasped at the orb of warm energy in front of her, and Gohan smiled in return, feeling a sudden bout of butterflies. The two were sitting awfully close, Sam, admiring the awesome sight in his hands, and Gohan, admiring her pretty blue eyes.

Midori smiled at the scene, standing from the blanket they were picnicking on. "You wanna see something even more impressive?" She faced the kids with an easy-going smirk and held her hands out to the mess of dishes they'd made. The clutter began levitating, causing Samantha's attention to permanently stray from Gohan to the gigantic heart-shaped plate formation the older saiyan had created.

"Whoa!" The teen girl exclaimed for the umpteenth time that afternoon.

Midori swatted at the side of her yellow summer dress, somewhat revealing a toned thigh, then pointed to the kids as if she'd brandished and fired a gun. "Bang," she uttered smoothly, taking in Gohan and Samantha's surprised, blushing faces. From her side they were framed perfectly within the abstract heart. It was too cute. "I put that Cupid to shame, don't I?"

The younger saiyan suddenly began babbling. "B-but, Cupid doesn't use a gun!" Anything to distract from his older comrade's implications.

Midori's stance slackened. She cocked her head to the side. "He shoots arrows I thought?"

"Nooo, not literally! Not from a gun! With a bow and arrow!"

Midori stood normally then, clicking her tongue and waving the boy off with a briefly annoyed expression. "I don't know… All these human weapons… I could care less."

Samantha listened to the two otherworldly beings she'd befriended interact with a tiny smile. But her gaze was hard to tear from Midori, and her heart was beating fast. All she could see—an image burned into her head from there on out—was Midori, in that pretty summer dress, and that big heart surrounding her as she displayed her playful side to them.

…

It had been a wacky afternoon, for many reasons; reasons normal and reasons not so normal. But they were having a nice evening, all of them.

Fun, summery music was playing in the background, colorful lights were strung through the bio dome, and fireflies blinked in the warm, August air.

Vegeta, who'd been resting before the gathering, was showing his two-year old son proper boxing form in a far-off corner. Midori (with a blackened eye from 'sparring') was swing dancing with Bulma, both females having had a few drinks.

And Gohan and Samantha were sharing a table with the other Briefs; Bulma's parents and her older, visiting sister, Tights. Down on the far end of the table the two teens conversed among themselves. Eventually Gohan found the nerve to ask his redheaded crush for a dance.

And although Samantha was a little surprised, she easily acquiesced. After all, Gohan was her good friend. But it was awkward to say in the least, feet being stepped on, Gohan spewing apologies every other second, and stiff waltz-like dancing until Samantha finally laughed out loud at the whole thing.

"Gohan!" She managed to get out through bouts of laughter.

And soon the young saiyan was laughing with her, his posture easing up. They suddenly seemed natural, slightly closer and hands joined as they stepped rhythmically across the lawn.

Eventually Samantha's dark blue eyes fell onto the other saiyan, who was also waltzing with Bulma, the two much smoother and seemingly gliding about. When their gazes locked, Midori tilted her head back and grinned a toothy grin, winking playfully at the redhead. This caused the girl to giggle, and she unconsciously buried her face into Gohan's shoulder in an attempt to hide her own goofy smile.

Gohan's eyes widened and his breath momentarily stalled. The butterflies were returning. Both young teens' hearts thumped quickly, yet ironically, for different people.

BEEEEEEEEEEEEP

My eyes opened into a confused glare, slightly crusted from old tears. My heart was pounding with adrenaline…

Wait...

Eyes slowly widening in realization, I turned to look at the machines, fear squeezing at my heart with its iron fist.

The monitor had flat-lined.

I turned over quickly, a pitiful gasp escaping my lips. She was still—so very still, and laid like a rag doll when I sat up. "Samantha…" Warm tears spilled over my cheeks once more. I lowered myself back into the bed at her level and grabbed hold of the girl, beginning to sob. The vessels underneath my eyelids felt ready to burst as I squeezed my eyes shut. "Not yet… no…" I whimpered into her red curls, anguish growing.

With her oxygen mask removed, I hugged the fourteen year-old's head into my chest and kissed her forehead again, sniffling, salty tears leaking onto her face. "Sweet baby girl… I'm so sorry… I'm… so—" I suddenly choked, a loud sob escaping my throat.

Curling into the fetal position, I held my daughter as tight as I could, even as the humans reentered the room, preparing for the next stages…

...

... ...

... ... ...

I didn't hear him when he stepped onto the balcony.

"I once told Kakarot…"

I jumped at the gruff voice, nearly dropping the beer bottle that I'd been holding.

"…that his feelings would get him killed."

I directed my bloodshot gaze up to Vegeta, and he stared sternly down at me where I sat, slouched, against the wall, a bottle of booze hanging loosely between my knees.

It had been six days.

I sniffled once, lazily sliding my arm off of my knee and placing the brown bottle beside me.

"He replied simply that his feelings were his guide…" Vegeta cast his narrowed sights onto the setting sun.

I didn't bother with a response, but instead leaned my forehead into the palm of my right hand. I was slowly slouching more into my knees.

"Albeit the context was different… I'd have to say your feelings are leading you down a dark path."

My eyebrows met in a furrow as my head lolled to the side in an attempt to face him again. "You mean like the one you were on after he died?"

Vegeta returned my annoyed stare with a glare and slightly curled lip. Surprisingly, no verbal abuse ensued. My brother simply turned around. And headed back inside… But, not before calling back to me, "Go be with Kakarot's boys."

The boys...

I found myself staring at the tiled floor between my legs, my mind tumbling his words around repeatedly. Finally, I'd repeated his suggestion enough times in my head for it to sound good.

…

The cool wind blew through my hair and chilled my exposed hands. I brought them together in front of me, the traditional Kung Fu wear helping to cover them completely. The suit was helping plenty in keeping me warm as I treaded lightly across the peak of a small, grassy hill.

Soon the sounds of light crunching reached my ears, and I turned to share a somber look with Gohan. His outfit was similar, though blue and white compared to my black attire.

We sat for some time together talking. I shed a few tears, but kept myself under control. At one point the teen inhaled a shaky breath; he seemed about to cry, but managed to hold it in. Gohan had really liked Samantha, I could see it. He had been the poster boy for what they called "puppy love".

But Samantha… had apparently felt that way about me…

…

I managed a small smile while sniffling. "How is he?" I asked quietly, playing with the grass.

"He's doing good…" Gohan suddenly sighed, a dubious gaze casted towards the clouds. "Is it too early to say he's just like my dad?"

My smile widened somewhat, but was still dull due to fatigue and sadness. "Well…" I replied, watching my idle hands. "He looks just like him already… Can I see him?" I asked, finally bringing my gaze up.

Gohan smiled back and nodded, getting to his feet.

We walked back in silence until we approached Chi-Chi, who was hanging laundry. She noticed us and blinked in surprise, laying a hand over her chest. "Oh! Well hello there. I heard about what happened, I'm terribly sorry," she said. "Samantha seemed like such a nice young girl…"

I gave a grateful nod when suddenly a head full of black spikes burst out from behind a bed spread, and Goten toddled quickly over to Gohan, calling his brother's name repeatedly.

I couldn't help but smile again, though it was pained.

The teen scooped his baby brother up into his arms, laughing softly. "Hey Goten, guess who's here?"

Goten faced me with wide, wondrous eyes and blinked. Kais, he looked so much like Goku…

"Hey, I know it's been a while, kiddo…" I brought an index finger up to the child's face and caressed a plump cheek, causing him to abruptly burrow his head deep into his brother's chest like a hermit crab.

Chi-Chi regarded us with a brief, amicable look before turning back to her work.

I let out a lighthearted scoff at the baby's reaction. "Don't be like that…" My smile faded and eyelids drooped. "I know I don't visit enough…"

Kids that age… didn't remember people too well. And my conscious decision to stay away because he reminded me of Goku more than anyone else was slowing the progression of any sort of relationship I could have with the boy.

Goten turned his face to the side, still against his brother's chest but enough to look at me.

I attempted my best friendly face, leaning forward with raised eyebrows and a kind smile. "Hi," I said softly.

He offered me a shy smile and a "Hi" before turning back into his brother's shirt.

"Midori," Chi-Chi said suddenly. "Why don't you stay for dinner? I'm sure Goten will warm up to you if you stick around for a while."

I nodded, offering their mother a quick smile. "Okay… thank you."

Everyone else seemed to know… what I needed… it was odd… Vegeta… Chi-Chi…

Something was happening…

I smiled genuinely that evening, the sound of dishes clanking and water running in the background. "I know you can hit harder than that, come on." I egged the two-year old on, mirthful as he punched each of my palms. "Show me what'cha got, big man…" Seeing his cheeks puff and expression turn serious caused me to smirk and chuckle.

But as he brought one fist far back I reached out and grabbed it, surprising him with my sudden movement, even more so when I used my other hand to attack his neck and stomach.

Goten squealed loudly, falling to the floor as he began laughing.

"That's right," I growled deviously. "You can't beat the princess of all saiyans!" Incorporating both hands into the tickle attack caused him to roll around desperately, screaming, flailing arms and legs. But his big, goofy grin was still there and drawing out a grin of my own.

'This is what I needed…'

Easing back a bit, I glanced to my right where Gohan was sitting on the carpet, watching us, snickering.

'Gohan… my friend and my hero…'

I then looked back down at Goten, but was a little too slow when he suddenly tackled me off of my knees and onto my back. "—Oof!" I hadn't been expecting that amount of strength, but he was part saiyan after all…

'And Goten… this little version of Goku.' A faint giggle escaped my lips as I caught the toddler in a gentle headlock.

I knew I had to move on… 'It's something everyone has to do at one point or another in their lives…' So maybe this was it. These little extensions of my heart, my own deemed family, Gohan, and Goten…

/

A/N

Finally about to jump the 7-year hurdle.

Thanks for the faves and follows, for both the story and myself as an author! They mean a lot!