A/N: My, it's been years since I've used this site and decades since I wrote for DBZ. Something reignited my love for certain characters I don't know. But I do know I've been wanting to rewrite(Fate Can't Keep Us Apart) and write other things for a while now...so here I am...

Just so you know:

This story will contain DARK/ADULT themes such as incest, possible abuse, unhealthy/inappropriate relations, somewhat OOC-ness, smut, and more. If you are bothered or disturbed by such things, then I advise you not to continue on this story. I warn you now because I don't want anyone coming into my reviews bitching at me about how 'this is incest!' 'this is disgusting!' blablabla, trust me, there are fics far worse than this. We are all old enough to know how the internet works and how to avoid things we don't like and we should all know not to attack people who have different interests. If you have a problem with what I am writing, that's completely valid, just don't come bashing me, please.

Pairing: Gohan/OC (his sister, Chira) along with some other implied pairings. Their age will be 13 at the start (2 years older than what they would have been during Cell) and will eventually change further into the story. The adult stuff won't happen until later...at least not graphically

I don't know how far I'll end up going with this story or if I'll trickle onto canon storyline but...we'll know when we get there lol.

I apologize for any OOC-ness and shit characterization, I'm still rusty and still getting into the swing of things...I promise it will get better and that I will try and make this a somewhat decent story. I'm not even happy with this first part so it may change but for now nah.

So, without further ado...enjoy! Leave a review! (Don't be mean though!)

It was raining that day.

It had been raining a lot actually; although in my honest opinion, the cold, dreary weather complimented by the thickness of heavy gray clouds suited the mood quite impeccably.

Funerals were not happy occasions after all.

It was truly a beautiful service though, or, at least it started off as one. It was held at a nice open space in the forest not to far from our home. Bulma had generously offered to pay for the expenses, but my mother had refused. There was no need for some flashy, expensive send off for my father. It was never his style.

Besides—there wasn't even a body for us to bury anyways.

I pat my mother's back as she wipes her tears with a white handkerchief as Krillin finishes up a touching speech about father and what a great man he was, how much he meant to everyone. The bald monk himself was not able to hold any tears back.

I felt a pressure on my hand suddenly, and from the corner of my eye, I could see the slight tremble of her lips, as she clings to my hand with a grip like iron. Her eyes, the windows to her soul, are shielded by her raven locks, and to any other, it would be hard to tell what emotions ran through them.

But not to me.

She was angry. I could tell by the way she tightly held onto my hand as if letting loose would set her sanity free. But this was not that usual type of anger, stirred up from hidden feelings of irritation or rage like we Saiyans are used to.

No, this was anger borne from pain; from built-up resentment, confusion, and loss. It had been the anger present in those lovely eyes of her ever since father's death. I could tell that she wouldn't last any much longer, the more everyone kept going on and on about him. She was a ticking time bomb, ready to explode at any given minute.

I knew this because I know my sister like the back of my hand—we were twins, after all.

"That was a wonderful speech, Krillin." Bulma takes the microphone from the crying monk, wiping tears of her own from her blue eyes. "Well...would anyone else like to say any final words about Goku? Before we wrap things up?" She looks out into the small crowd made up of the Z-Warriors.

I had already gone up, being the first one to do so. Mother had been after, then, Master Roshi, Yamcha, Tien, Bulma, Trunks, and lastly Krillin. Of course, nobody expected Piccolo or Vegeta to go up and say anything, especially Vegeta.

That left one person.

Sniffling, mother turned towards my sister, who had been sitting next to me. "Chira, honey, why don't you go up and say something for your father?"

A moment of silence passes before my sister finally speaks, her voice soft. "I...I don't have anything to say."

My mother frowns, and her thin eyebrows furrow. Kami, please don't start. "Chira, this is your father's funeral. How could you not have anything to say about him?"

"If I did, it wouldn't be anything nice." Edge comes to her voice now, and I just knew things were bound to get worse from there.

And it did. "Young lady!" Mother's voice raises in volume, and I could feel everyone's gaze burning into us. "I don't know what in Kami's name has gotten into you lately but you need to put a rest to this horrid attitude and go say something nice about your father!"

"Why should I?" Flames are swimming in Chira's grey eyes as she jumps from her seat, brushing off my attempts to calm her down. "Why should I say anything nice about that man? Do you want me to lie, mom? Is that it? Do you want me to sit here and tell pretty lies on how 'Son Goku was such a great man' when we all know that's the farthest thing from the truth!"

"Chi—"

"No, Gohan! I'm sick of it! I'm sick of everyone acting like he was such a saint when he's nothing but a selfish coward who abandons his family and friends!" Tears are pouring down her face, and the anger is unusual on her normally gentle features. I want nothing more but to take her into my arms and wipe them away.

"And you all know what I'm saying is true as well!" She turns and points an accusing finger at our bewildered guests. "What kind of a great, wonderful man turns his back on the people who need him? This is the second time he's done this! He could've come home to his family after defeating Freiza but what did he do? He decided to stay on some faraway planet and train! He could've come home after Gohan killed Cell. Mom's pregnant for Kami's sake! But no, he decides to do what Goku does best—thinking about himself. Because that's all that he cares about!"

"Chira," Krillin breaks into her rant, his voice calm and level. "You know none of that is true. He's staying away for a good reaso—" His defense is cut short when Chira whirls on him, fixing her glare onto him.

"Bullshit!"

Everyone is stunned into a pregnant silence. The tension is so thick, you could cut it with a knife. At everything she poured out, I'm left utterly speechless. There are things I could say to defend our father—yes, he did love and care for us, he saved our butts multiple times, sacrificed his life for us multiple times—but that would do nothing but anger her further.

And the thing is, in a much deeper part of me, buried way beneath the guilt and self-hatred I felt for indirectly causing our father's death—I acknowledged that in a way, she was right.

But I couldn't bring myself to say anything.

The silence is eventually broken once Chira speaks up again, this time her voice much softer.

"Son Goku, a hero? A kind, selfless, wonderful man?" She gives a broken laugh. "Give me a break. He's a horrible man. He's a horrible friend, a horrible husband, and moreso a horrible father."

With that, she turns and takes off into the sky, ignoring any calls of her name as if they were lost to her in the wind.

I hop on my feet seconds after, ready to go chase after her as I always did, but then a large hand places itself on my back and I look up to see strands of freshly-cut lavender locks swaying in the wind and a familiar ki surges as he prepares to take off.

"It's alright, Gohan. I'll go after her." Seconds later Trunks too is in the sky, following directly after my sister's trail.

I frown, an odd feeling stirs within my chest; since when did he feel the need to go and comfort her when she had her outbursts as if he's known her long enough to know how to deal with them? He's been here for what, a few weeks, months at the most? Did he feel like he knew her better than her own twin brother?

When did they even get so close to one another?

The odd feeling doesn't really go away even after we finish the ceremony and everyone heads off to Capsule Corp for the reception, though I manage to ignore it as I try to take my mind off of them, and I enjoy myself as the others share funny stories about their times with father.

Then that feeling resurfaces once again when hour after hour passes before they return, at sundown.

—and that feeling nearly ignites when I notice his scent all over her.