Chapter One

The World's Saviour

Planet Earth, Age 771

Earth. A seemingly peaceful little planet that sat in the small galaxy known as the Milky Way. Over the years it had come to be known as the gem of the Northern Quadrant, with vast landscapes and a healthy supply of oil, food and other resources needed to sustain life.

However, the little blue planet had attracted its own amount of trouble in more recent decades, the inhabitants more often than not oblivious to the danger it had been in; thanks to the unofficial protectors of Earth. But the reality was that Earth was enjoying a rare period of peace, after being terrorised by an evil artificially created android known as Cell.

Earthling's were an odd race, and clung to hope and glory for dear life as soon as it presented itself. So when it was announced that the world champion, Hercule Satan had destroyed the fearsome bio-andriod with one punch; well, they believed every word.

Of course, there were conspiracy theories of how the Cell Games really concluded; but they were shot down as soon as they presented. How dare they slander Mister Satan's name? How dare they suggest that Cell still lived? They slept soundly in their beds at night, willing the world to be safe again, wanting their children to play out in the street without any threat. So they hung on to every sentence that escaped Mister Satan's mouth.

Four years on from the devastating battle that quite literally shook the planet, and the Earthling's continued to celebrate. There would be a parade held in the newly renamed Satan City every year on the anniversary of Mister Satan's victory, that was televised across the nation for all to see; children would perform plays at school and bonfires and firework displays were held in parks around the globe. Families would tune in to watch their saviour make his annual speech; and celebrations would take place in every household.

The streets were full of life in East City just as much as the rest of the world. A small metropolis, nestled between the steep Eastern mountains and the harsh frost filled planes of the North; East City was home to just two hundred thousand people, which is almost a laughable size when compared to the three million of West City.

Yet the hustle and bustle of inhabitants grabbing last minute party supplies was still a sight to behold as their hurried footsteps intermingled with those who sat chatting outside bars and restaurants. It could be argued that the people of East City were just as raucous and lively as any other town.

Laughter and happy cheers echoed through the city streets, streamers and fallen decorations littered the paths that lead up to the main shopping district. Empty paper cups were kicked to the wayside as a group of burly martial arts fans trudged through the town, their arms slung around each other as they loudly sang a familiar chant, cans of frothy larger in hand.

Several passers by heckled and laughed at the men, their drunken cheer infectious. So immersed in their celebrations were these city folk, that none of them noticed a figure sat a top a nearby sky scraper. If they were to look above, they would see all but a dark silhouette against the steadily darkening amber sky; but perhaps dismiss it as a rather large bird.

Despite this perception; the figure in question was actually that of a teenage boy, who had been basking lazily in the summer sunshine all afternoon. He had masses of long golden hair that was tied into a low ponytail, cascading down to his mid back in an unruly fashion. He was fairly well built for a boy who had just entered his fifteenth year; the tight black body suit he was wearing didn't leave much to the imagination.

A midnight blue armoured chest plate covered his broad torso, with golden piping running over the edges of the bodice. Black gloves covered his calloused hands, along with chunky black boots to match them.

He leaned casually up the water tower at the edge of the building, his legs swinging back and forth as he ran a hand through the long spikes of mane that seemed to defy gravity at the front of his head. Sharp green eyes scanned the ground below once more before he let out a deep sigh, taking a long drag of the cigarette that was nestled between his fingers on his right hand.

Resting his head against the water tower, Son Gohan closed his eyes; allowing a cool breeze to wash over his handsome features. The sound of the celebrating civilians below wasn't enough to break him out of his relaxation; yet the sudden beeping transmitting from the watch on his wrist caused him to sit up right in attention.

"…Requesting back up.. crrrck, I repeat, crrrrck; all available units to the corner of Orin Avenue and Bamboo Street. Crrrck we are in pursuit of armed…"

"Finally," Gohan grumbled, rolling his eyes and cutting the transmission off as soon as the sound of police sirens filled the air.

The young saiyan got to his feet, taking another puff of his cigarette before flicking the stub off the edge of the building. Pressing a button on the top of his ear piece, his bright eyes grew fierce before they were shielded by a visor that materialised across the bridge of his nose and forehead, allowing his golden hair to blow freely in the breeze.

The screech of tires upon tarmac made him turn his head to the street below, as a yellow convertible flew around the corner of Orin Avenue; causing several terrified on lookers to dart out of it's path of destruction. Loud, obnoxious rap music blasted from its speakers, accompanied by the raucous laughter of two young men as they hurtled down the street.

The police in pursuit of the vehicle struggled to fit through the crowded area, narrowly missing a few pedestrians and market stalls as they quickly fell behind. The criminals cheered, as a police car crashed unceremoniously into a telephone box, blocking off the remainder of its back up.

"Yeahhh!" The auburn haired man on the passenger side yelled, brandishing his gun in the air, "Take tha' you filthy coppers!"

"Got wha' they deserved those pigs," sneered the driver, "Now we can deliver this money t' Mr Borbonne; he'll be righ' pleased wit' us he will Alf."

"You fink he'll give us more than five percent this time Reg?" Alf grinned toothily, his aviator's glinting in the sunset.

"Don't be so 'asty Alfie lad," said Reg, his bushy moustache twitching, "Mister Borbonne's a dangerous man, yeh wouldn't want t' end up like little Frankie Foul Mouth now would yeh?"

Alf's eyes widened, "Wa' 'append t' little Frankie Foul Mouth?"

Reg snorted, his hands gripping the wheel a little tighter, "'is mouth got a little too foul for Mister Borbonne's liking when 'e didn't get the price 'e wanted. Next thing yeh know 'e aint talking no more."

"He aint?" Alf asked carefully.

Reg shrugged, "Well it's a bit 'ard t' talk when you 'ave yeh tongue cut out wiv' a pair o' pliers. T' be quite honest wiv' you Alf I'm surprised Borbonne didn't shove it up his own -"

CRUNCH.

The sound of a boot upon bonnet was enough to jolt the pair of gangsters out of their conversation; that, and the realisation that they were no longer moving. Slowly, their eyes widened; as a golden haired teenager stood at the front of the car, his boot resting upon the bumper.

"N-no bloody way," Reg whispered, the sound of sirens whirring in the background; a number of onlookers gawking at the scene in the middle of the road.

"I-It's 'im Reg! It's 'im! That Gold Fighter kid!" Alf cried, gripping his gun tightly.

The Gold Fighter sighed begrudgingly, but didn't move his foot that was currently embedded into the bonnet; "I'm going to have to ask you to put down your weapons, and hand over the money."

The two men blinked, before Reg let out a low growl, "Little gobshite, who does 'e think 'e is? Barking out orders!"

"I'll get 'im, tha' little bugger will regret 'e met us!" said Alf, adjusting the barrel of his handgun and firing manically over the stop of the windscreen.

The crowd surrounding them began to scream as the sound of gunshots ricochet over the street. Yet Alf's triumphant grin faltered, as the golden haired teenager still stood; outstretching his palm and allowing the crushed bullets to fall onto the bonnet with a loud clatter.

"So it's true…h-he really is bulletproof," Reg whispered, before he was shook out of his stupor by his partner.

"Run 'im over Reg!" Alf cried, dropping his gun uselessly into the footwell as he began to shake, "Step on it!"

Reg wasted no time in complying, and with an almighty bellow he stepped hard on the accelerator; the engine roared and the tires screeched, sending exhaust fumes into the air, but the convertible did not budge.

Gohan snorted, as the two men struggled to escape, "Seriously?" he quirked, yet was met with another rumble from the engine. The young saiyan sighed, shrugging his shoulders before plunging his fist into the bonnet and ripping the engine clean out from where it was connected.

The car shuddered and jolted to a stop, as Gohan dangled the engine above his head with a smirk; oil dripping slowly onto the road.

The pair of goons gasped, before Gohan nudged his boot with the bumper; causing the car to tilt and the criminals to flip out onto the pavement behind him.

"Oof!" "Ouch!" They cried, as they landed with a dull thud. The teenager turned, tossing the car engine effortlessly over his shoulder and folding his arms across his chest in a somewhat bored manner.

"Now, are you going to give up? Or do you need some more convincing?" he asked, eyeing the quivering pair, "Because to be honest, I've got some other stuff I'd rather be doing."

"You nonce!" Reg breathed, shakily helping his comrade to his feet, "Do you 'ave any idea what Mr Borbonne will do if 'e doesn't get 'is money?!"

"Don't know, don't care," Gohan replied.

"You don't understand who yeh messin' wiv' kid," Alf growled, cracking his knuckles.

The young saiyan sighed as the men approached, ready to pounce any second-

Bleep Bleep.

Gohan frowned, as his ear piece began to ring; a familiar number flashing across his visor.

Bleep Bleep.

"C'mere you little bleeder," Reg glowered, steadily getting closer to him, "We'll teach yeh just what happen's when you mess wiv' the Borbonne Family-"

Bleep Bleep.

The gangster was cut off, when the teen held out a hand, gesturing for him to stop. Reg and Alf shared a befuddled look as Gohan turned his back on the pair and pressed the answer button on his ear piece.

"Hello?"

"SON GOHAN!"

The teenager winced, as the irate screech of his mother feedback over the speaker; causing his head to spin, "Oh mother f-!" he almost swore in distain, causing the woman to yell even louder.

"WHAT WAS THAT?"

"Nothing, nothing," he answered cautiously, gritting his teeth in pain, "What's up?"

"What's up?!" Chi-Chi cried, breathing loudly down his ear, "I'll tell you 'what's up' young man, you're late! Or did you forget that we had a reunion at Bulma's today, like we do on the same day every year?"

Gohan couldn't help but roll his eyes.

"Sorry Mum, I just lost track of time," he replied, sensing the pair of goons attempting to sneak up behind him.

The Ox-princess tutted, "Well you'd better get here right now before your food gets cold, not to mention you have homework that you've been putting off all weekend doing who knows what with who knows who-"

"Yeah don't worry Mum I'll get right on it," he said on autopilot, delivering a spinning kick to Reg's temple as he made a grab for him; knocking the man out on impact.

"Reg no!" Alf cried, before his eyes rolled back in his head as soon as Gohan struck him in the back of the neck, crumpling to the floor in a heap.

"What was that noise? Are you with somebody?" his mother flapped, as several people started to crowd around him.

"Ah just some drunkard I just passed on the way back from the library, I'm on my way now," he shrugged, dragging Alf's unconscious form over to his comrade's.

"Oh the library?" Chi-Chi cooed as a police car halted by the side of him.

"Yeah, I was just getting some extra materials for my schoolwork," he lied, giving Alf a little extra nudge with his toe.

"Well," his mother sighed, calming down considerably, "Just make sure you hurry up sweetie, and fly home safely!"

"On my way!" he called, before pressing the button on his earpiece and ending the call.

"Oi you!" an officer cried, clambering out of the car along with several other's; their eyes widening at the sight of the crumpled forms of the gangster's. "Stop where you are!"

"Sorry I can't stay and chat gents, must dash," Gohan grinned wickedly, his golden aura building up around him and pushing them back several feet; "But in answer your impending questions, the Mayor's money's in the boot and these berks will wake up in a couple of hours."

The officers gaped, as the teenager gave them a mocking salute, "Always a pleasure!"

Before anyone them had time to reply, Gohan shot into the sky; a sonic boom echoing above the clouds as he blasted towards West City, leaving behind a golden streak of energy and a flabbergasted audience.

He made it to Capsule Corporation in just under twenty minutes, the large yellow domed structure stood proudly against the backdrop of the sunset; surrounded by magnificent gardens that were big enough to shelter the Briefs family from the busy roads outside.

He landed in his usual spot at the back of the building, so as to not draw too much attention to himself. As soon as his boots touched the soft blades of grass; he closed his eyes, allowing his muscles to relax as he dropped out of his transformation, his golden hair returning to its usual ebony.

He opened his eyelids, displaying deep onyx iris' that darted around him before he pressed a small button on his wrist watch; tight grey skinny jeans that were purposely ripped at the knees took his body suit's place, along with a pair of chunky biker boots and a tight black t-shirt, displaying a long jagged scar that ran from shoulder tip to wrist on his left arm.

Gohan frowned; sensing that the party was going on indoors rather than outside, despite the heat of the evening. Shrugging to himself, the young saiyan trudged down the pathway leading to a set of stained glass patio doors; lined with rows and rows of Mrs Briefs' colourful tulips.

His fingers had barely brushed the handle of the door, when it was forcibly swung open; and the teenager was knocked to the ground by what appeared to be a black and purple whirlwind. Gohan landed on his backside with a dull thud, suddenly aware of the two gremlins attached to his chest.

"What the-?" he started, wincing as the two little saiyan's started to squawk loudly in his ears, bouncing up and down on his stomach excitedly. Although Gohan was used to Goten and Trunks pouncing on him, they rarely did so with so much enthusiasm.

"Big bwother tha' was so cool!" Exclaimed Goten, bright obsidian eyes; so much like their father's, shining up at him.

In fact, the three and a half year old was all too reminiscent of the deceased warrior. Ever since he was born, Goten bore the same untameable spikes as Goku, that seemed to defy gravity as they sat messily atop his head. He had the same short nose and rounded cheeks; his cheeky smile was positively infectious as well as his carefree nature.

When his mother first announced her pregnancy shortly after the conclusion of the Cell Games, Gohan could have sworn that it the God's that were punishing him; bringing a child into the world that would never know the father that he unwillingly sent to the grave. The young boy's guilt only multiplied when his little brother was born, his friends proclaiming tearfully just how much Goten looked like Goku. But as Goten grew, his laughter filled the empty, saddened hallways of Gohan's home; and he soon saw the boy as a blessing, rather than something to remind him of his failings.

It was only natural that Goten found friendship in Trunks; the two boys were inseparable. If one had left the room the other would not be far behind. Although Trunks would usually be the one leading an excursion; the purple haired four year old was a far cry from the Trunks that Gohan had come to know; the one from an apocalyptic future.

The teen concluded that it was Vegeta's influence that had sealed the young prince's fate. Trunks of the present day was sarcastic and bossy, traits that were indeed absent from his future counterpart. The boy's father practically threw him into the gravity room as soon as he could walk; something that surprised Gohan, as Vegeta notoriously trained alone. His future son's death at the Cell Games must have hit Vegeta harder than he previously thought, and it was obvious from Trunks' adoration of the man just how much time they spent together.

Still, despite the prince's questionable parenting skills; Trunks beheld all the childhood innocence that Goten had, and looked towards Gohan as a big brother all the same. The teenager loved them both dearly, he really did; just not when they were offending his ear drums with their excitable sequels.

"What the bloody hell is wrong with you two?!" Gohan bellowed angrily, as the duo continued in their exhaustive chatter.

At his words the children ceased, but seemed oblivious to his harsh tone as they positively beamed back at him; still sat on his chest.

"We want to be superhero's like you Gohan!" Trunks exclaimed breathlessly, whilst Goten nodded eagerly beside him.

"Yeah!" Goten cried, crawling closer to his face so that their noses were almost touching, "We could be your side cars!"

"It's sidekick Goten," Trunks drawled, rolling his eyes at the younger boy, "You're so stupid sometimes."

"No I'm not!" fumed Goten, sizing up to his friend, "It was my idea to be a side-thingy!"

"Yeah! Well…" the older boy stalled, thinking for a moment, "It was my idea to ask Gohan, so there!"

"He's my bwother!" yelled Goten, "So there!"

"Stop it, the pair of you!" Gohan roared, pinching the bridge of his nose out of frustration. The little half saiyan's turned towards him, looking puzzled at his outburst. Composing himself, the teenager tried again, "Now, what are you talking about?"

"We want to be your side-!" Goten struggled enthusiastically, "erm…"

"Kick's…" helped Trunks.

"Kick's!" The younger boy finished happily, "and help you fight all the baddies big bwother!"

"Yeah!" exclaimed Trunks, pumping his small fist in the air, "The three of us will be unstoppable! No one will dare mess with our cities!"

"We saw everything!" joined Goten, "You stopped the bad man's car and beats them up and saved the day!"

Trunks nodded in approval, "It was bloody brilliant!"

Gohan frowned, a sense of dread coming over him as he chose to ignore the young boy's use of language. "Hang on, you said you saw me stop those men today; how did you-?"

"SON GOHAN!"

All three halfling's winced, as Chi-Chi's irate shriek rattled the window panes of Capsule Corp.

"Sounds like Mummy's mad at you again Gohan," whispered Goten, causing the teenager to glare at him.

"You think?" Gohan muttered, clambering to his feet and brushing the two youngsters off him.

"Come on Goten," said Trunks, ushering the younger saiyan away from the teenager, "Lets go, I don't want to be caught in the middle of another one of your Mum and brother's rows again."

Goten gasped, before hurrying after his friend, "Last time was really scarwy! I thought steam was gonna come out of Mummy's ears 'cause her face got all red!"

"You know that's not really a thing right?" Trunks snorted as they rounded the corner.

"But you said-!"

"It was a joke Goten…"

Gohan shook his head as their voices disappeared. "Thanks for the support guys," he muttered to himself, although he was unsure just what support a couple of toddlers could offer when his mother was on a rampage.

Just as the thought crossed his mind, did the woman herself appear in the doorway. Now, Chi-Chi was not a tall woman; in fact, due to his recent growth spurt, Gohan now reached a couple of inches above her head. Yet the petite mother of two had an overbearing presence, that could make even the strongest of warriors quiver in their training boots. Gohan simply had to remind himself of his parents relationship as a child to prove that fact.

The teenager averted his gaze to his boots as his mother's fierce onyx eyes narrowed in his direction. Her dark hair was pulled tightly into an elegant bun atop her head, drawing more attention to her stern features. Chi-Chi's hands were placed on her hips in an annoyed manner; her yellow and purple garb flapped in a breeze that suddenly swept over the gardens.

Gohan knew from her silence that she was scrutinising the appearance of her eldest son; she always made a point of doing so whenever she clapped eyes on him. Her gaze would narrow and her lips would purse together in a disapproval; the only accompaniment to the uncomfortable silence would be a gentle tapping of her boot upon the tiles.

The young saiyan looked up, failing to hide his amusement as once again the light tapping sound reached his ears.

"And just what are you smirking at young man?" Chi-Chi called, her boot coming to an abrupt halt.

Gohan's lips quickly drew into a thin line; realising he had been caught.

"Inside," his mother stated, stepping aside to allow him entrance, "now."

He obeyed without a word, brushing past her as he swiftly entered the hallway. Capsule Corporation was still by far the largest building Gohan had ever set foot in; and although he had come to know it as a sort of second home in recent years, he didn't think he would ever get over its grandeur. He was positive there were parts of the complex he still had yet to explore.

Chi-Chi's footsteps thudded heavily on the pristine carpeted floors behind him, as he instinctively made his way through to the Briefs' main living space at the front of the building; her gaze burning holes in the back of his head.

Sure enough, when Gohan kicked the door open with the toe of his boot; he was greeted with the majority of the Z gang, who were sat around the large flat screen television. The living room was incredibly spacious, and could probably fit three of Gohan's sitting rooms; plush white leather sofa's surrounded a shaggy rug and log fireplace. Some extra furniture had been added to accommodate for the gathering, most of which were covered with sweet treats and bottles of alcohol for the adults; a few toys lay abandoned on the floor from where Goten and Trunks had rushed out to tackle him.

Gohan frowned when no one turned around to greet him; his friend's eyes glued to the news report on television. The teenager huffed, and was about to announce his presence when the reporter on screen cut him off.

"…That's right Jeremy, The Gold Fighter was seen here only moments ago in East City," a well suited man spoke from behind a news desk. "There are reports that he infiltrated a police car chase, causing several thousand Zeni worth of damage to the main dual carriage way in the process. Police were able to make an arrest to the suspects after the incident we are about to see, yet the Gold Fighter was able to escape yet again without questioning. The images I am about to show you have been sent in by spectators who were able to capture the scene on their mobile devices; they may be quite disturbing for some audiences…"

The broadcast cut to a rather shaky picture of a city street; before the camera was able to focus in on the centre of the road.

Gohan cringed, when the camera captured the image of him in super saiyan form; ripping out the criminal's car engine and tossing it over his shoulder before it crashed into the pavement. Broken bits of cement and debris rained upon the frightened crowd, their shouts muffled as the cameraman dodged out of the way; dropping the mobile phone in the process and causing the picture to dramatically cut out.

"Well Gohan," his mother barked, moving in front of him and blocking his view, "You said you were at the library. Does this recklessness look like homework to you? Just what do you have to say for yourself?"

"I uh…" he began hesitantly; yet Chi-Chi's outburst had drawn the attention of the other occupants of the room.

"Ah there's our little superhero!" Krillin called from the sofa, only just acknowledging his presence.

Gohan resisted the urge to glare at him as light chuckles filled the room. Krillin was offering him a wicked smile, lounging next to his wife with a beer in hand. His father's best friend was always one to initiate teasing, especially since Gohan had entered his teenage years; the young saiyan simply refused to be around the man when his voice started had started to break. He should have known that puberty was never going to be easy with the Z-Fighter's around; at least he could stick up for Goten when the time came.

"Hullo Krillin," he replied dryly, attempting to draw his mother's attention away from him.

He was rewarded with a cheeky wink as Krillin raised his beer to his lips and took a huge swig. The short martial artist was always the joking sort; Gohan had initially thought his hairstyle was a joke when he turned up at the last reunion with a full head of black hair. Krillin had never quite forgiven the teenager for laughing as hard as he did.

Apparently women liked long hair according to Krillin, and it must have helped seen as the man successfully sealed Android Eighteen as his bride two years ago; and now had a one year old baby girl named Marron. Marron was a beautiful girl, with her father's dark eyes and her mother's straight blonde hair.

Currently, the babe was being bounced on her mother's knee; which would have been a strange notion to even contemplate several years ago. But it seemed that Android Eighteen; or just Eighteen as she preferred to be known, settled into their odd group just as comfortably as any evil doer turned good before her.

In truth, Gohan was quite find of the woman; even though she didn't say much. It was rather strange when she had turned up at the first anniversary get together of the Cell Games as Krillin's plus one, and had spent the majority of the time in a corner on her own. At the time, Gohan hadn't really felt like talking to anyone either; and was surprised when Eighteen followed him outside as he attempted to escape the festivities.

They sat for a while in silence, until Eighteen turned to him and muttered a soft 'thank you'. The twelve year old was about to ask what for, when she simply kissed him on the cheek and walked back into the compound; leaving a very red faced Gohan behind her. Of course, he realised what she meant after a moments thought; he did effectively save her from the belly of the beast as it were.

It was crazy to think how much the Z-Fighter's lives had changed in the years following the hardest battle they had ever faced. As well as Krillin finding a wife and having a child, Yamcha's baseball career had taken a huge leap as well as his bachelor status, and he and Puar had taken time out of touring with the Titans to be at the reunion. They gave him a cheery wave from the other side of the room where they sat in front of the television.

Even Tien had reunited with an old flame; Launch, who was apparently one of his father's old friends back in the day. Despite her personality disorder that was borderline terrifying, the two had gotten married in a small ceremony in the Northern mountains where Tien and Chaiozu were still continuing their training.

Master Roshi hadn't changed much; and still lived with Oolong and Turtle on his tropical island in the South, with the addition of Krillin and his family of course. They had even took the time to send Gohan a birthday present last week; which was immediately confiscated by his mother. The three were sat at the rounded table at the far corner of the room with Gohan's grandfather; all of them giving him identical wolfish grins.

The young saiyan didn't have time to contemplate where the missing members of the group were, as his mother rounded on him again.

"I've had it up to here Gohan!" she yelled, gesturing to her forehead with her hand, and causing the entire room to wince. "Not only are you five hours late without any breath of an apology, I find out that you've deliberately lied to me! Again!"

"It wasn't a lie!" Gohan reasoned, holding his hands up in defence, "I really was on my way back from the library, I was minding my own business when these thugs came out of nowhere; I had to do something!"

Chi-Chi growled, attempting to restrain her anger, "Be that as it may Gohan, running around playing superhero isn't going to get you into a red brick university now is it?"

"I'm not a superhero!" The teenager protested, ignoring Krillin and Yamcha's snickering, "I'm a vigilante!

His mother looked as though she was about to hit the roof, when his grandfather suddenly stepped in. "Chi-Chi honey, let the boy be for tonight; if Gohan wants to be a superhero then let him be a superhero."

"Grandpa!" Gohan whined childishly, "I told you, I'm not a superhero!"

"Oh okay," Ox smiled, "sorry Gohan, whatever you say."

"Vigilante or not," Chi-Chi interrupted, pointing a accusatory finger towards the television, "It doesn't excuse this reckless behaviour of your's Gohan!"

"Well, I didn't mean to destroy the stupid road…" he muttered, his lips contorting into a pout.

"It's not just the road young man!" his mother continued, the Z-gang's heads flipping back and forth between the two, "You've been completely neglecting your school work!"

"No I haven't!" he retorted, earning himself a threatening glare.

"Don't talk back to your mother Son Gohan!" She fumed, "You've been out every night this week, coming back with excuses of going on walks and seeing your friends at the village! Now, I don't mind you making friends Gohan but this has got to stop."

"But I haven't done anything wrong!" he yelled angrily; ignoring Krillin's cut throat gesture out the corner of his eye.

"Oh?" Chi-Chi said rather smugly, "Then why did I receive a letter this morning informing me you didn't turn up for your detention on Friday?"

"But Mum!" Gohan protested, his head already spinning from her incessant ranting, "I only skipped that detention because it was completely ridiculous!"

Chi-Chi folded her arms across her chest, "Your teacher informed me that you didn't take your assignment seriously."

"The assignment was to write an essay about myself!" He argued, "It's not my fault that he's so thick he can't comprehend that there's life on other planets, let alone half-aliens that save his fat arse from people who want to blow up the Earth!"

Judging by the look on his mother's face; he new he was grounded for at least the remainder of his teenage life, especially due to the fact that he deliberately swore in front of her.

Ten minutes of ear shattering scolding later; Gohan found himself banished to the garden with his school satchel; which Chi-Chi had oh so conveniently brought with her. Flicking open his notepad to a blank page, the young saiyan leaned back on the old tree trunk and crossed one leg over the other.

He unconsciously chewed the end of his pencil in annoyance, thinking of a way on how to start such a tedious assignment; especially as he now had to outright lie about the entire thing.

Gohan sighed begrudgingly before setting to work, but only got as far as writing his name at the top of the page when he was alerted by a familiar presence.

Twirling his pencil in between his fingers, Gohan sighed, "Hullo Piccolo."

"Hey kid," came the strong Namekian's reply.

His large silhouette stood against the dusky sky, his long white cape flapping against the quickening summer breeze. From the dim lights escaping the complex, Gohan could just make out his mentor's wry smile. The teen could remember the days when such a gesture would be a rarity even in the most victorious moments of battle. Still, such a smile would still only be for Gohan, occasionally Goten if Piccolo was in a particularly good mood.

Although Gohan loved his mentor, the past few years have seen Piccolo acting as a much more frequent 'shoulder to cry on' than the teenager would have liked. A long time ago, Piccolo wouldn't have tolerated such weak profanities; whereas nowadays it seemed that was all he wanted Gohan to do.

"How's it going?" Piccolo asked in a gruff tone, moving closer to him and leaning with his shoulder against the tree trunk.

The young saiyan fought the urge to roll his eyes, and instead became suddenly interested in a nearby textbook.

"Gohan…" he warned.

"Same as every year," Gohan grumbled, snapping the textbook shut, "fine Piccolo."

The pair sat in silence, as a cheer of raucous laughter filtered across the lawn.

Beside him, he heard Piccolo sigh, folding his green muscular arms across his chest. "I heard about what you did today, in East City," he stated offhandedly.

Gohan turned to look at him, but couldn't make out any hint of disapproval in his tone. "Yeah," he shrugged, "some prats stole the Mayor's money, so I got it back for him. No big deal."

Piccolo sniffed, his beetle-black eyes observing him closely; "You don't have to do this Gohan."

The teenager raised an eyebrow, "Do what?"

"You know what," said Piccolo, "It's like you've got something to prove."

Gohan stared, his mentor had never expressed his feelings towards his alter-ego before; well, apart from the first few pilot outfits. In fact, the 'Gold Fighter' was one of the only things that Piccolo let him get on with without any intervention.

"I'm not proving anything," he said slowly, "aren't you the one's that have always taught me to look out for others and do the right thing? That's all I'm doing Piccolo."

The Namekian eyed him for a moment, before sighing, "I just want you to be happy kid."

"I am happy," said Gohan, pulling the widest of goofish grins, "See?"

Piccolo snorted at his display, just as another jeer of laughter reached their ears; it seemed Master Roshi had initiated the drinking games again.

Only a few minutes had gone by, when Piccolo once again broke the silence that encompassed mentor and student.

"Your mother was screeching about you before you arrived."

"Not surprising," Gohan chirped from his notebook, "continue."

"Something about you having pierced your ear," informed Piccolo.

"It's NOT pierced," Gohan fumed, having had the argument countless times, "It's stretched."

His mentor leaned closer, inspecting the earlobe that he had presented by tucking his long hair behind him. Within the lobe, sat a four millimetre plug, which was still a little inflamed.

"It looks stupid."

"Says you," the teenager growled, tearing himself away.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Piccolo frowned.

"Oh because you're the pinnacle of style, cape man."

Piccolo scoffed, "You used to wear one, I believe you said it was 'cool.'"

"Yeah, when I was eleven and didn't know any better," Gohan shot back.

The Namekian glared at him, until his lips drew into a smirk; which Gohan willingly returned.

Suddenly, their ears perked up and their heads averted to the now starlit sky. There wasn't as many stars to be seen in West City as there were in the seclusion of the Eastern Mountains, Gohan found; but soon did the polluted air begin to light up with reds, greens, purples and streaks of gold as fireworks from all over the city were released into the air.

The display was always dazzling; and seemed to get more brighter and extravagant with each passing year. Gohan had learned that the best firework display was held in Satan City Park, or Orange Star City Park as it used to be known. But Gohan simply refused to attend, not that any of his family and friends wanted to go in the first place.

Gohan didn't blame the bloke for taking the victory over Cell as his own; the teenager couldn't think of anything worse than having paparazzi banging on his door when he was already struggling to come to terms with the outcome of the battle.

Honestly, Gohan could of thanked him; but when it was announced that Hercule Satan had had a city named after him a couple of years ago, he thought it had gone too far.

Gohan couldn't even look at a box of Hercule-O's without wanting to throw up.

The same went for his mother too, it took half the Z-gang to prise the frying pan out of her hand and stop her marching up to Mister Satan's mansion. Although Gohan was certain he knew who would come out on top of that battle.

Despite the egotistical big head that Satan had become, Gohan couldn't deny just how at peace the Earth seemed. The young saiyan hadn't known peace to last this long, despite the rate of petty crime steadily growing; people were getting used to the peace, and were getting greedy it seemed.

But there was no impending doom on the planet and the human race seemed more than willing to accept Mister Satan as their saviour. The Z-fighter's had moved on, along with the rest of the world; and Gohan could hear them now, hanging out of the window nearest to him, gasping in awe at the myriad of colour that struck the velvet sky.

Slowly, the loud bangs and crackles of the displays diminished, leaving disappointing clouds of dust and smoke in their wake. Avoiding Piccolo's questioning stare, Gohan sighed deeply and set to work on his assignment; picking up his pencil once again and scribbling the words his teacher wanted to hear.