Chapter Six

It doesn't matter who my father was; it matters who I remember he was.

-Goten

There's a lot of talk going around, between my friends and families and even people I've never met.

I've heard them all. It's hard not to.

I've heard the; Is he really dead? Or is he waiting for anther evil to come so he can beam back on down and save the day again?

Those ones made me angry, irritated. Is that all they saw of him? Was he just some guy who came down whenever evil struck to save the day and then disappear from sight? My father wasn't like that. He was a man of rights and wrongs. He was a husband. He was a human being, damn it. And he loved this world, loved it enough to risk his life for it time and time again.

And he didn't like to kill. No no, he hated to kill, loathed it. But I bet some people didn't know that. Why did he kill?, you might ask. He did for us. For Planet Earth, for my family, for my friends, for me.

I was his second born and for six wonderful, blissful years, I knew nothing about him. I hadn't heard his voice or suffered from his massive hugs or even knew of his interest. The only thing that had been drilled into my head was that he was a Hero. A savior. And he was very strong.

Then my little world came crashing down around me. The sheltered life that my mother tried so desperately to fabricate for me, tore down and I was left standing vulnerable in the midst of the big, bad REAL world.

My father, I soon came to find out, was different then what people built him up to be. When I stared at the guy, he didn't look strong. Hell, he didn't even look like a Hero! Heroes were suppose to have capes and disguises. I was devastated. Had I been duped?

But then, as I stood atop Kami's tower and watched my father fending off Buu so Trunks could get back safely, something hit me. Maybe at the time I hadn't noticed but it was right there, in that moment, that I got to thinking. Everyone had been right, and I wrong. My father was a hero except he didn't wear capes or swoop down and bust dramatic poses. He was the kind who appeared only when he was needed, maybe even from the shadows, fending off evil and letting other people, mostly Hercule, take the credit.

He didn't want praise. Didn't care for it. And he let the actors who reenacted the Cell games made him look like a coward and an idiot. But all he did was laugh and smile at it. Why? Because he didn't need fame to feel good about himself. If he had his health, family and friends, he was just fine.

Now who in their right mind was that pure? How many people could do that and not feel even the tiniest bit of anger at the outcome? And the fact that he could have easily ruined Hercule's reign as "Champion" at any opportunity he wanted to but didn't, was overwhelming.

And this...this real, authentic attitude that he had was probably the reason why it hurt so much when he disappeared years ago. Sure, maybe someone could have trained and trained and become just as strong as my father but could they mirror his qualities?

Would a new hero give the enemy more then enough chances at escaping? Give them openings to just leave and never come back?

Would a new hero risk their life for Earth? For family? Friends?

The sad answer was no. No one was like my dad, no one would ever be. And all the people who had ever encountered him, would never be the same either. Not my mom, not Vegeta, not Krillin, not me, not anyone. It was like ripping a huge piece out of each of us and nothing would be able to fill that empty void.

But maybe the memories.

Each of us had our own memories with my dad. Some more then others, some less but in retrospect, enough to remember him by.

I, in particular, would always remember the good times over the bad. Sometimes it was hard too, I still remember having nightmares about all the turmoil. Dad fighting. Dad dying. Dad risking his life. Dad coming never returning.

But, through that all, we still managed to have fun. We hung out at Capsule Corp. when Bulma threw parties, we joined the World Tournament together and we sometimes ate dinner together. We tried to make time for birthdays and even threw holiday events.

I still don't know how some of them do it, the older adults I mean. They've probably had countless moments of sheer terror when they thought they weren't going to make it but, they're still here, celebrating for what? For another day alive maybe?

It's been a while since we'd had a get together though. Right around the time dad disappeared was the same exact time everyone kind of lost communication. I still see Trunks once in a while and I think my mom meets with Bulma spasmodically but...it's just not the same.

Gohan's been taking it fairly well. I would think that he was used to it by now but I can see in his eyes that he's not as tough as he's trying to be. I appreciate his effort however.

Mom's...a wreck. She's been ill more then once and I hear her crying at night sometimes, when she thinks I'm sleep. It's just me and her in the house now too, albeit Gohan and his family are right next door. It's almost eerily quiet and I turn on a radio to drown out the silence.

I'd hate to repeat what everyone else has been saying for weeks but Vegeta's a changed man. Of course, he's still the meanest most scariest male alive but there's a sudden softness that hadn't been there before. It's like he's actually sympathetic of my family's loss. Freaky right!? I know he's still training. With my dad gone, he's not taking any chances of another enemy attacking. I feel a bit comforted by it because no one else seems to be concerned about it.

Bulma's still Bulma. Yeah, she has moments when my father's name comes up and she stares off into space but she recovers pretty quick, smiling and playing the part. She's probably the most collected right now and I've gone to her to talk more then once.

Krillin's honestly trying his best. He jokes and laughs and plays around now more then ever. It's not all that convincing however but I'm thankful for it.

It's ruefully amazing at how much impact one person could have on so may people but, yeah, that was my dad. Breaking and mending hearts as he passed.

A last minute thought just came into my mind. Something ridiculous probably but, you know, I think I'll say it.

Have you ever thought about all those superheroes with capes and stuff? And then have you ever thought about why they have capes and others don't? Well, and I know this isn't true, but I liked to imagine that only the really awesome Superheroes were the ones that earned the cape by doing something extraordinary.

If this were the case, then wouldn't my dad have the hugest, longest cape in the history of capes? Then maybe, just maybe, everyone could see that he was the one who put his neck on the line all the time. That he was the real hero.

Then again, it doesn't really matter. We knew he was a hero and we knew him better then anyone else. It was just something I wished I could have told him though, before he left. Wherever he is, I hope he's listening.

Dad, you've earned you're cape.