The wiser and weathered seventeen-year-old Gohan frowned. He could always tell when his mother received another round of bills.
From the subtle additions of gray hairs to the slumped, rigid posture, the half-Saiyan had a talent for noticing the most macro of inconsistencies in the usually spirited woman. Though she knew how to wear the mask of a content, unworried smile, she could not hide the tired resignation behind her eyes. He didn't need to sense her strained, wavering ki.
She was exhausted.
The sight made Gohan's heart twist into knots. Even his innocent little brother began noticing something was wrong, despite his and his mother's mutual efforts to keep up appearances.
"It's okay, Gohan... Your grandpa still has plenty of treasure left in his reserves," she weakly laughed.
The half-Saiyan clenched his jaw. "But mom-"
"Go finish your studies, sweetie. It's fine, I promise."
Gohan heard the slightest hardening in her voice. There was no room for argument.
Not that it would hurt to try, anyway. "But I could-"
Chi-Chi raised her palm, stopping Gohan in his tracks. "But you won't, young man. You have your entire adult life to work, and you don't have much youth left. Use it on your studies, or play with Goten. Once you graduate from that life, you won't ever get it back."
"B-But you didn't know what I was gonna say..." Gohan stammered.
Chi-Chi smirked. "I don't need to. I know my babies."
She walked over to her eldest son, cupping her hands beneath his cheeks. Her eyes shimmered. "You're a sweetheart, Gohan. I love you, and it makes me so happy seeing you stepping up like this, but I don't want my burden to become your distraction."
Distraction. It was a word that occupied Gohan's brain and weighed down his heart.
It hurt, and for the most fleeting of moments, he saw himself approaching a desperate, beaten-down Cell, recalling the adrenaline and the sadistic delight that encouraged the half-Saiyan to be his own kind of monster, one that threw everyone and everything away to attain the most pleasurable of pleasures. One could say he was indeed distracted during that prolonged moment of euphoria, his Saiyan blood screaming with delight.
The memories, the nightmares, and the guilt never failed to make Gohan queasy. How different was he from Vegeta or even Cell if self-satisfaction was enough to distract him from the greater goal? Would the destruction of Earth be negligible if he embraced his newfound craving for Cell's agony?
Where was Goku when you needed him?
Swallowing the lump in his throat, Gohan managed a small, steady smile. "I guess you're right. But I'll still keep an eye out for something. Goten and I both know you're in need of a break."
Chi-Chi sighed, wrapping her son in a gentle hug. The half-Saiyan buried his nose in her hair, trying to swallow away another developing lump.
"You're just like your father..." Chi-Chi cooed wistfully.
Gohan only hugged her tighter.
Ever since Mister Satan supposedly defeated Cell and won the Cell Games, the unemployment rate inexplicably flatlined. Analysts suggest this was due to Satan's unwavering charisma, his presence pushing others to do their best.
Gohan's economic lessons wouldn't start for a few more months, so he had no comment for the time being.
What he could comment on, however, were the many dead ends he kept encountering as a result of this prosperity.
Beggars can't be choosers; Gohan understood that, but he would be lying if he claimed the lack of employment options weren't exhausting and frustrating as he tossed newspaper after newspaper. Everything either paid poorly, didn't offer enough hours, or both.
At least the family now had plenty of fuel for their fireplace.
Chi-Chi's earlier words rang in Gohan's ears, and they did make sense, but that didn't mean they were right.
From the extraordinary amount of food consumed daily to the seemingly endless supply of study guides and textbooks, Gohan knew his mother gave so much for both her sons. The constant financial drain was of no interest. Gohan and his brother lived (mostly) comfortable lives, and Chi-Chi was satisfied with that reality.
It was about time someone returned that kindness.
With his father gone, Gohan may as well be the one to take that first step.
"So dull…"
Gohan barely stifled a yawn, tossing yet another newspaper over his shoulder. The Reject Pile, as Goten affectionately dubbed it, grew taller as the hours slowly ticked. The half-Saiyan never found himself accustomed to boredom. Not with his childhood, at least.
Another yawn threatened to escape. This time, Gohan allowed it, opening his jaw wide and shutting his eyes tight, paying no attention to the fatigue-induced tear hanging in the corner of his eye.
The half-Saiyan looked down at his watch, sighing at the time: almost eleven. He was wasting sleep at this point.
He gripped yet another newspaper before glancing at his bed with a slight frown. Surely one more look couldn't hurt.
Gohan nodded with conviction. What's one more paper?
The half-Saiyan flipped to the paper's classified section, expecting another torrent of mediocre listings and questionable employment practices. This night has been an endless horde of faceless monsters, slowly wearing him down with their innumerable yet agonizingly uninteresting forces.
But when Gohan's eyes landed on a specific listing, all fatigue melted from his body. The horde dispersed.
"No way..." Gohan gasped.
A flood of memories overwhelmed the half-Saiyan's mind as he stared at the portrait of a familiar bear beneath the "HELP WANTED" banner. They were memories of pizza, songs, laughter, and stories. It was a fantastic birthday.
The corners of his mouth lifted, and nostalgia enveloped his heart. He hadn't thought about that place since...
"I'm really proud of you."
... that day.
Pushing down those other memories aside, Gohan scanned the rest of the article, allowing the images of his old fuzzy friends to fill his skull. He remembered that sense of warmth and belonging, the sensation of finally acting like a child after years of nonstop combat and training.
Would the animatronics even remember him? It's been so many years, and they must see thousands of children per year. Would he even be allowed to interact with them? He couldn't remember them speaking to any employees, just the children and occasionally the parents.
Gohan's mind drifted to Foxy, the adventurous and kind pirate captain who bestowed upon half-Saiyan the title of First Mate. Surely he wouldn't forget a fellow crew member, right?
"You listen to your mother and keep hitting those books, okay?"
The more Gohan's mind drifted, the more like a kid he felt. He felt smaller, energetic, sensitive, and vulnerable.
It's been so long.
"Dad..."
"Bye, son."
Gohan felt his breath hitch and his shoulders stiffen. With several deep, rhythmic breaths, he steeled his attention towards the newspaper, finally taking in the full details of the job.
No more distractions.
'Family pizzeria looking for security guard to work the nightshift.
12am-6am. Monitor cameras, ensure safety of equipment and animatronic characters. Not responsible for injury/dismemberment. Ƶ95,000 a week.'
Gohan's eyes nearly bulged at the supposed pay. It was competitive and far exceeded every other listing he discarded.
His mind raced with several possibilities. Working the night shift meant he'd still have plenty of time to study back home, his long life of battle would ensure no criminal would ever mess with the restaurant, and the money would reignite his mother's fiery spirit.
A small voice inside Gohan's head said this was too good to be true, that there must be something more.
Even if there was, the half-Saiyan was confident he could handle anything. Nothing could deter his newfound determination.
Gohan wasted no time grabbing his cell phone, hurriedly dialing the number shown in the newspaper. Excitement rushed through his body as he once again remembered his birthday. How much has changed over the years?
As the dial tone rang in Gohan's ear, a stray thought suddenly made its way to the forefront of his mind.
There was a promise he needed to keep.
"I should get the Dragon Radar..."
Second chapter is now complete! To be honest, I wasn't expecting to seriously continue this. I still have a hard time believing I still write fanfiction! I'm about to graduate college and attend grad school. So much has happened since I started writing in like... 2015? I don't remember =w=
I should also mention, this story has no relation to my old Prince of All Pizza crossover fic, and it's highly unlikely I'll ever finish it. My writing style has changed dramatically, and it's been ages since I last thought about that story.
All that aside, I hope you enjoyed this and look forward to what is to come!
Cheers!