Chapter 7: Visiting Hours
Days after, pundits still don't know if they've going to call the Intergalactic Martial Arts Tournament a success or a failure. For one, there's no winner, not technically. None of the finalists got to survive the final round to fight Mr. Satan one-on-one. But what the traditionalists hated about the entire thing was that someone had actually died. Tragic not only because of the life lost, but also it is such a sacrilege, an anti-thesis to what martial arts is all about, which is the protection of life. The original World Martial Arts Tournament wouldn't allow such thing to happen, these pundits say, just for the sake of extra viewers & sponsors.
And these same viewers & sponsors were the reason why some people call it a success. It was most watched live event of the year. Sponsors were happy, and plenty of these same sponsors' products were sold. It made the Cash family a few billion zeni richer (minus all the payments he need to do, mostly to the grieving family of the poor departed Doskoi).
Despite how lucrative the entire event had been, Mr. Cash decided once is enough. He had suffered far too much, first from the attempted robbery, then the hijacking of the final round by some terrorists with cyan skin and orange hair. Doctors warned him that his ulcers will burst if he subjects himself to such high levels of stress again. It's an event for the record book, and he swore that there will never be another Intergalactic Martial Arts tournament ever again.
After the dust settled, chaos sorted out, people calmed down, villains apprehended, and bodies carted away, the remaining and unconscious finalists were rushed to the emergency ward of the Battle Island Hospital. If Trunks, Gohan, and Krillin were awake, they would have just fly home to crunch on senzu beans. Or perhaps fly to the Lookout, where the young new guardian can heal them, good as new. But they were not, and the three fighters woke and found themselves a few hours later tied to winches and bandaged from head to foot like mummies.
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The nurses of the Battle Island Hospital were unnerved by the laughter reverberating throughout the intensive care ward. Not that is was an unpleasant sound. It was simply a rare thing to hear in the usually somber location. But the patients and visitors in Room 418 seem to be having a blast. That's despite that the three patients there (and disturbingly, two of which are under aged) having multiple broken bones, skull fractures, and various blunt force trauma, including contusions, abrasions, and lacerations.
The nurses thought, maybe it's because these professional fighters (and disturbingly, including the two which are under aged), are so used to extreme pain? Still, they didn't see what's there to be happy about, considering (based on the seriousness of their injuries) the lengthy hospital stay they have to endure, and the amount of physical therapy they have to undergo after discharge.
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Surly Yajirobe told them a day before that Korin didn't have any senzu beans on hand, and they must wait for, pfft, I dunno, about three days for the next harvest. The injured fighters were okay with waiting. Three days of bed rest was a respite for them. The mothers, Chichi and Bulma, have something to say to that though. As for the other fighters and friends visiting Gohan, Trunks, and Krillin (Tien, Chaotzu, Oolong, Piccolo, Yamcha, Master Roshi, and Vegeta, who the bluenette reported was brooding on the rooftop), they were just glad it wasn't them wearing the bandages.
"So, what about asking Dende to heal you guys?" Bulma asked. To actually know that there is a God (more than one actually), and that he is literally a good friend of yours? People might say the Z fighters lead privileged lives.
Piccolo snorted. "The guardian of the Earth is busy. Plus, are you really asking Kami do house calls?"
"Weeelll... yes?"
"There goes a rich spoiled brat's answer. How typical." The aforementioned rich spoiled brat went red with outrage. Not that it matters. The Namekian was there just to check on Gohan. That done, Piccolo flew out of the window to escape both Bulma's wrath and the gang's inane chatter.
"I'm neither spoiled nor a brat. Asshole..." the woman angrily muttered to herself.
"Don't worry, mother," teenaged Trunks said soothingly. "Between the androids, Cell, and those aliens, staying put in a hospital is practically a holiday."
"But this is your goodbye visit. We wouldn't know when we'll see you again." The heiress sadly smoothened the soft hair of gurgling baby on her lap. "I booked a tropical vacation for us three too. A mom and her two beautiful sons." She sighed.
"Aw, I'm so sorry," the lavender haired boy said guiltily.
"Don't worry about it, Trunks. It wasn't your fault, after all." Bulma scrunched her face in thought. "Oh, I know! I'll put up a huge going away party! I'll invite everyone! And there's going to be dancing and games and fireworks, and oh, tons and tons of food!" She handed her baby to Chichi and then grabbed her phone.
"Mother," Trunks sweat dropped. ''You don't really need to. But if you really want to have a party, maybe a smaller one is better...?"
"You're such a sweet boy," the young mother pinched the teenager on his cheek. "Worrying about me and everything. But as your other mother, I want to make sure you'll get the very best. If you can't get the very best vacation, then you'll have the largest, most awesome party that the Briefs money can buy." With that, she excused herself to call her assistant.
''Hold on to your horses, guys," Yamcha said, laughing. "We're in for a patented Bulma Briefs bash."
"Well, I'm sure it's way better than the last shindig I went," Oolong replied. "Now that was a disaster, if I ever saw one." The turtle hermit and the pig already told them about Videl and what happened at that penthouse party.
"Strange though that the robbery you guys were talking about wasn't in the news," said Krillin, flipping the pages of a newspaper. The headline screamed "Mr. Satan Saves World, Twice". Underneath it is a picture of said savior of the world with Mr. Cash's son, Monty. Both were grinning widely, their fingers in a V.
"That the rich and famous were held hostage and were almost robbed? That should've made the front page," the short warrior added.
"I'd say that would probably be the reason why it they didn't report it," Tien said. "The scoop that sponsors and investors were held at gunpoint would probably crash Mr. Cash's businesses and stocks to the ground even more than the news of orange haired alien freaks hijacking the tournament."
Everyone agreed. After the Cell games, the gang realized that people tend to dismiss feats of superhuman strengths and abilities readily as fake or trivial. They would rather dwell on the more 'believable' information such as the world champion defeating a green monster full of cheap tricks. Or that a group of thugs planned the entire disturbance during the tournament as diversion for their penthouse heist.
"So Mr. Satan has a daughter, " Chichi said thoughtfully, changing the topic while bouncing the giggling baby on her lap.
Gohan suddenly remembered the girl in the hallway, the one who bought him a drink. He couldn't imagine lots of kids running around that place. So maybe that was Videl Satan...?
Chaotzu piped up. "I hope she doesn't take after her father. If so, poor girl."
"Nah, she looks nothing like Mr. Satan," Master Roshi said. "She's actually cute for a twelve-year-old..." Everyone narrowed their eyes at the old hermit with disapproval. ''Oh, come on! I meant kiddie cute, not beautiful in an adult kind of way-" everyone's eyes went narrower.
"You guys have such low opinion of me," the old man pouted.
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Videl waited at the nurses' station, a gift tucked on arm. It was already afternoon when she and Hercule arrived at the Orange Star Memorial Hospital, but she knew it couldn't be helped. Her father has a speaking engagement at the city chamber of commerce, and then a meeting with the mayor, something about updating the name of the city?
She knew they really shouldn't use their celebrity status to get perks, but she's glad the hospital staff are usually lenient with them when it come to visiting hours. Because if it was only up to her, she would've moved in to the hospital so that she can take care of her mom 24/7.
The black-haired girl walked to a familiar face. "Hi Nurse Judy!"
"Videl!" The matronly woman cried warmly, giving the girl a tight hug.
"I saw you just the other day in the TV during the tournament. A panel interview, I think. Young lady, you were like a fresh breeze compared to those stuffy old men!"
She laughed and squeezed the older woman back with equal affection. "Thanks, Nurse Judy. I was just the replacement. Dad was supposed to be in that panel.
"By the way, umm," the girl said with some hesitation. "How was she last week?"
The nurse frowned. "She was fine."
Nurse Judy was practically a second mother, not just to her but to her parents too. The Satan family was born and bred in Orange Star City, and almost everyone in the family was born in this same hospital. Nurse Judy had even been there to assist Videl's birth. The girl knew the elderly woman just want to shield her from more heartache.
"Please, Mama Jud, I want to know," she asked, falling to using the family friend's pet name.
"Okay, okay," Nurse Judy sighed deeply.
"Not so good, girlie. She was in so much pain and fatigue. She wouldn't eat anything." The matron smiled a little. "But she did perk up since the tournament ended the other day. She felt well since then."
The girl brightened somewhat. "Ah, that's good news. It's just probably the chemotherapy that was making her feel terrible last week. Since that's over, it's just a matter of time until she's cured. I mean, lots of people with cancer goes in remission, right?"
"Could be," the nurse hedged.
"I'll take that. Besides, there she is. And she does look well," Videl said, grinning and waving at a lady in a wheelchair. Hercule was behind her, a cheerful smile on his face as he pushed the chair.
"Mom," the girl hugged her mother. Petite, clear blue eyes, a pretty face, and a forceful personality - no denying it, Videl is a carbon copy of her mother.
"My gosh, Videl, you're so skinny!" Mrs. Miguel Satan admonished her daughter. "You're not eating enough, is that it?"
She turned around to her husband, annoyed. "Mark! Why is our daughter so thin? She's practically just skin and bones!"
The pre-teen rolled her eyes while her dad laughed, his hand rubbing the back of his neck.
"Aww, don't be like that, honey. Of course, I'm taking care of our sweetie pie. It's just... umm, ah! It's just that our daughter eats too much junk food. Hahaha..."
What on earth?! the girl thought, her eyebrows raised, and indignant at her father's lie. Hidden behind Miguel, Hercule pressed his palms together, silently begging his daughter to help him. Considering he'd been too busy to cook and Videl didn't know how, they've been subsiding on take outs and fast food for months. Meaning, her dad's the one who's supposed to be in trouble. Videl exhaled in annoyance. Geez! Fine, fine...
"Yes mom, that's true. I'm sorry," she said, bowing so that her mother wouldn't see her roll her eyes again.
Miguel narrowed her eyes. she turned around to look at her husband again, but the champ quickly schooled his face into a picture of innocence. "Are you two trying to hide something?" the woman said suspiciously.
"No, of course not, honey," Hercule vigorously denied. He cleared his throat. The topic needs to be changed, stat. "But anyway, we bought you a souvenir from the Battle Archipelago."
Videl placed the box she'd been carrying on her mother's lap, who then opened it up and gasped. Taking out the softest silk scarf she had ever felt, Miguel exclaimed. "Wow!"
The girl grinned. "Glad you like it. When we saw it, we knew we just have to get it. After all, roses are your favorites."
"Thank you, this is beautiful," her mother said, smoothing out the cloth and admiring the beautiful roses print motif.
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"'I stole this for you. Get well soon, or I'll kick your ass.' Huh, no name," Yamcha mused after reading the card attached to a single red rose. He turned the piece of paper to reconfirm that it was really sent for Krillin.
"Hey man, is it really that hard to believe that someone would send me flowers?" the bald fighter said, quite annoyed but furiously blushing at the same time.
Bulma smirked. "So, you're not going to tell us who sent you the rose, hmm?"
Krillin just kept twiddling his finger, his face gone full red.
"Probably that new girlfriend of his. I'm telling you, the dude goes to the mainland practically everyday," Oolong observed.
"Sheesh, you guys are a bunch of gossips," the short man muttered.
Gohan snapped his fingers. "Oh, I know! It's probably that android you were crushing on. You know, the blo- Ooff!"
The boy found himself with a pillow thrown to his face. And since these are people with superhuman strength, it hit the half-saiyan like a missile on full-speed.
"Shut up, kid!"
"Sorry!"
"Oh, my poor Gohan... hey, what's the big idea?!"
"It was Android Eighteen? No way!"
"Are you crazy? She's going to kill you!"
"Eighteen and Krillin, huh. How cute!"
Tien stretched and stood up. As much as he regards these people as friends, he had enough socializing for today. "I think Chaotzu and I ought to be going now. Let's go," he called the white-faced boy, who nodded back.
"Wait a minute, Tien." Master Roshi approached the tall warrior. The old teacher looked serious all of a sudden. He whispered, "Let's talk outside."
The stern-faced warrior raised an eyebrow but said, "Okay."