Nearly a month passed, and Gohan found himself getting to know Videl better. He loved his father's friends, and he adored Piccolo, but it was a pleasant change of pace to talk about typical teenage human things.
"I'm glad your mom is at least letting you come to watch me," she told him, twirling a pigtail around her fingers. "It'll be nice to have someone cheering me on."
"That's what friends are for," he said, a genuine smile on his face, as usual. "Besides, I'm sure plenty of people will be cheering you on."
She rolled her eyes. "I'm glad you think so," she said, dropping her hand. "Most people are only interested in my father, though."
"That's a shame," he said, his stomach curling at the thought. He tightened his grip on his backpack as the pair left the school together. "I definitely know what that's like."
Videl frowned. "What, to have a world champion as a father?"
"I mean living in your father's shadow," the boy replied quietly. "My father passed away years ago, but I don't think I'll ever be able to live up to his legacy."
"Oh," Videl said, stopping in her tracks. She looked vaguely uncomfortable, as if she wasn't put in sensitive situations often. Her normally stern expression looked pinched and nervous.
"I actually lost my mother just a few years ago," she finally admitted. "I don't know what happened to her. My dad said he came home one day and she was just gone, without a trace."
Gohan stopped walking, turning to face his friend.
"I'm really sorry, Gohan."
"Don't be," he told her, his gentle smile putting her at ease. "They might both be in a better place now."
"Yeah, sure," Videl mumbled, not quite believing him. She opened her mouth to speak again, but instead stopped when she saw her friend's demeanour change.
"Gohan?" Piccolo's voice resounded inside Gohan's head. The teenage boy, surprised by the sudden contact, nearly jumped a foot into the air. When he realized who was speaking to him, Gohan visibly relaxed. "Oh, hey, Piccolo," he thought. "What's going on?"
"Come to the lookout immediately, kid," the Guardian replied, not bothering to exchange pleasantries.
Gohan shifted to look at Videl, who was staring at him oddly while waving a hand in front of his face.
"Jeez, Gohan," she scowled "What's gotten into you? Are you alright?"
Nervous about Piccolo's abrupt call, Gohan backed away slowly, unsure of what excuse to give Videl.
"Sorry, Videl, I really don't feel good all of a sudden," he lied. "I don't think I can walk you home today."
Eyes narrowed by his obvious lie, Videl yelled after him as he ran past her neighbourhood. "What the hell, Gohan?" she shouted in frustration. She briefly thought about following him, but decided she would simply tell him off at school the next day for ditching her.
She smiled at the thought, clutching the straps of her backpack a little tighter.
Racing to the lookout in his ascended super Saiyan form, Gohan landed atop the floating palace in mere minutes. The first and second levels had been rather easy for him to maintain and strengthen over the years, with the second being only slightly more difficult due to the more aggressive personality change. In training with his father on Yardrat, the Son boys had discovered that grief and emotional pain were the primary triggers for the first Super Saiyan transformation. In his training following the Cell Games, Gohan had correctly deduced that anger and rage were the triggers for the ascended form. On the cusp of a new level of power not yet reached, Gohan hadn't been able to achieve a third transformation thus far.
And with Piccolo's suspicious call, he sincerely hoped he wouldn't need it anytime soon.
"Piccolo?" he said, tentatively stepping toward his previous master, dropping back to his base form.
With a grunt, Piccolo turned to face Gohan. Though still garbed in his classic white turban and cape, his purple gi top now bore the symbol of the Guardian of Earth on the front.
"Something is coming," Piccolo said. "I can feel it. Though I'm not sure what it is yet, it's clearly malevolent."
Features hard, Gohan nodded. "How soon?"
"Very soon," Piccolo said, turning back to face the edge of the lookout. "You've been keeping up with your training outside of our occasional spars, right?" he asked, already knowing the answer.
"Yeah," Gohan replied. "I train with Mom. Sometimes Krillin."
Nodding, Piccolo hesitated. "Have you seen anything of concern?"
Blinking several times, Gohan though over his visions from the past month or so. "No," he slowly decided. "I don't think I've seen anything suspicious."
Reading his friend's thoughts, the Namekian added, "Yes, then it's strange indeed that I know before you do."
"Well, what do we do now?" Gohan asked. "Train? Wait? How can we prepare if we don't even know what we'll be up against?"
"For now, just let the others know," Piccolo reasoned. "Unfortunately, I'm afraid that's all we can do."
Sensing his presence was no longer needed, Gohan took several steps toward the edge of the lookout. "You know, I've really missed you, Piccolo."
Closing his eyes, Piccolo responded softly, "I've missed you too, kid."
His nerves now frayed, Gohan dove off the edge, heading straight for Kame House.
Several hours later, all of the Z-Fighters had been informed of the situation. Exhausted, Gohan finally trekked back to the 439 Mountain Area, relieved to feel that his mother was napping in her bedroom. He was sure she'd be unhappy about him leaving school so early in the day, but right now he was too preoccupied to care.
As soon as the exhausted boy sat on his bed, a pain shot through him. He doubled over, clutching his head.
Then he saw it: a large shadow fell over the several audience members as they clamoured out of their seats in a panic. The being to whom the shadow belonged floated just around the corner, temporarily out of Gohan's sight. Though from the screams of passersby, the sight must've been truly terrifying.
Jumping onto the World Martial Arts Tournament stage, a clearly battered Videl fell into a battle stance.
And then a flash of pink flesh passed into view, and Gohan's vision went black.
His blood pressure rapidly rising, Gohan clutched his chest in fear. Gradually coming back to his senses in the safety of his bedroom, he blindly reached for his desk drawer. With a shaky hand, he pulled out a fairly tattered journal, thick with notes and drawings of past visions. He flipped through the pages hurriedly, worried that he would forget every detail if he didn't write it down.
Bardock was right. The peace was over.