EDITED - 05/01/2014

…

Hi, again.

I just wanted to clarify that even though, as suggested by some reviewers, an interaction between college Gohan and highschool Videl would be pretty interesting, it is not my idea for this particular story.

Enjoy!

The bus was at least at half-capacity today, mostly with kids that were clearly on their way to school just as Goten and Mia, as proven by their backpacks.

It enabled him to finally relax a bit, reassured they'd have some company during the long drive home, which was something he'd stupidly dwelled over for more than he really should have last night. Maybe they'd even be able to make a friend or two, and knowing how extroverted his little brother was, that seemed the most likely outcome.

His forehead connected with the cool metal rim of the window, shapes and colors blurring outside as they passed while he wiped the condensation off the glass. The little guys were taking the two seats in front of him, discussing their classes for today, he guessed, and he let their voices lull him into closing his eyes. They were so incredibly heavy.

He'd been preparing them for this day for weeks, laying down the rules regarding their behaviour and the bus rides mostly - they could fly home if they wanted, but only in emergencies, and carefully so Mom wouldn't find out. Being their first day, however, the youngest Saiyans had had some issues adjusting to their new routine, delaying their morning schedule and making him miss his coffee.

Until this very second, he hadn't realized just how much he truly needed the thing to wake him up and jumpstart the day, but it had became nothing less than an addiction over the years, hadn't it?

Lovely. I'm an addict now.

It's not like he'd been raised with the whole "your body is a temple" bit like those uber health-freaks on television. They'd always eaten quality just as much as quantity, back at home - Mom had always seen to that - and, of course, lack of exercise had never been an issue. But even so, every adult in his life had drank alcohol in his presence on one occasion or another - mostly special ones - Mom and Dad included, and some had even smoked, so it wasn't like he had a reason to find things like these forbidden or frowned upon. It was simply a part of growing up, he figured, though booze had never sparked his interest, particularly.

He remembered Vegeta once proclaiming that he and Kakarot would have been taking him out for a drink after he'd fucked a girl for the first time. It was standard procedure within the ranks of the Saiyan army, as it turned out, though those usually involved trips to the "whore-room" - a topic he'd been smart enough not to pursue at the time. Nappa had wanted to do the same for him but never did, however Gohan failed to grasp if it had been because Vegeta had refused the rite, or if he'd simply never fulfilled his part before Bulma came along.

One thing was certain, since Vegeta had been especially meticulous in pointing it out: An elite like himself would never have engaged in such a ritual with third class trash such as Gohan and his father, so they should be "basking in the glory that was his benevolence" for the privilege.

Yeah, the guy had been pretty wasted that night, not only because that kind of… "pleasantry" would never have left the Prince's lips otherwise, but also considering he himself wasn't even eight years-old at the time.

His mother had been thrilled when she'd heard that one, though he wasn't sure if it'd been for the booze or the fucking part. Both, probably.

All things considered, it wasn't all bad, since he was going to spend the day with the mother of all coffee addicts, so it was just a matter of time until he got his hands on a cup of the precious liquid. Knowing Bulma, she would be ready for her second fix by now, and he would tag along for the ride; maybe have two, just to compensate.

Their speed was decreasing gradually, so he opened his eyes and stretched a bit. The bus stopped right in front of the school, which was already drowning with kids of all shapes and sizes, running around like freaking maniacs. Oh, Goten and Trunks would fit right in. There were some parents too, he noticed, which made sense since it was the first day of the school year.

Stepping out of the bus, he looked around to see if Bulma was already there, and signaled the kids to come meet her and Trunks when he spotted her silver sedan arriving. Their eyes were wide as saucers at the sight of so many other children - something they weren't all that accustomed to, living in the middle of nowhere - pure excitement making them sparkle brightly. Gohan foresaw his future for tonight, being the one to carry them both to bed due to sheer exhaustion. Hopefully they'd have a good time.

Bulma waved furiously after exiting the vehicle, and they all met half-way. Gohan admired the woman immensely, he had to admit. Being who she was, president of the biggest, most profitable company in the world - maybe even the universe, since Frieza's PTO was now out of commission - with an army of employees, assistants, and assorted servers, she was the one bringing her son to school. And she wouldn't have it any other way, he was sure.

The little Sons group-hugged the happy woman and then reached for Trunks, proceeding to address the most pressing matters regarding their little lives, whatever they were. Bulma came over for Gohan's hug but pulled back a little too quickly, clamping his shoulders. "Shit, Gohan. You look like crap!"

He couldn't repress a chuckle at the choice of language. "Wow, thanks a lot." No doubt about it, he'd gotten his potty-mouth from her, since she'd never been too shy about adding some color to her vocabulary. Not like himself, at least, considering he'd always been more or less capable of refraining from publicly displaying it, but he was the first one to admit his thoughts were becoming more and more filthy as he grew up. Not Master Roshi filthy, but still.

The woman giggled. "I'm sorry, Honey. Did you not sleep well or something?"

He shrugged. "I never do, but today it's just the lack of coffee."

"Oh, I can definitely relate to that." Her giggles were sweet but quickly dissipated into a slightly concerned look. "You still have them, huh?"

Gohan nodded quietly and she sighed. She was well aware of his nightmares, so there was no point in lying about it. They were happening every single day initially, but as time went by, it became more of a weekly thing - two or three times only, on a good streak. He did wonder how many different accounts of the same event would he be able to come up with, but he'd never been able to remember many specifics about them upon waking up, so he couldn't say.

Nothing apart from that one thing, of course: his father's face, two fingers on his forehead, and then a scream. "Daddy!" He'd always jump awake after that, drenched in sweat, gasping for air. Fortunately, he didn't actually scream the word anymore, which was always a plus.

Needless to say, getting back to sleep was a predicament all on its own after that, as the images stuck around the room in the night's shadows, and since naps were out of the question in an household with two energetic little kiddies, four full hours of sleep at any given night was a gift from the heavens. He needed his coffee. Badly.

The woman patted his shoulder. "Don't worry. I'll hook you up in no time." She then turned to the kids, signaling them with a finger so they'd approach her. "Take a knee, guys." They all grew up to realize she meant it quite literally, so they bundled up around the "coach" and followed the order.

"You three are family," she told them, "so you have to be there for each other, okay? Family is everything. If one of you needs something, it's the others' job to help out. Understood?"

They nodded.

"You will behave. You will listen to your teachers. You will behave."

"You said that one already," Trunks pointed out.

"I know." She smirked before continuing. "There will be no running around at superhuman speeds. There will be no flying, and there will definitely be no fighting. Not even between yourselves."

They nodded again.

"You will, however, make new friends. You will play around as much as you can, and you will have fun, got it?"

The little kids grinned fully and started to get up.

"Oh, and try to learn something too, okay?" Bulma added, earning a couple of chuckles.

The bell rung for the students' attendance, so they all jumped over to Gohan and Bulma, rushing through heartfelt hugs and goodbyes and some last-minute good-lucks before running inside. They'd be okay, he told his gut as it fired up for a moment. As luck would have it, they turned out not to be complete weirdos such as himself, so surely today would go by with zero issues and lots of new experiences. Fingers crossed.

"We better get going," Bulma said then, checking her thin wristwatch. "I can't have you dragging yourself around like some damn zombie. We've got places to go and people to see, so let's get some coffee in you, ASAP."

"Please do."

"So how was it?" Bulma asked.

"Like I died and went to fucking heaven," Gohan exhaled. Screw decorum, it was the best coffee he'd had in his life! Or he just needed it that badly, one or the other. It made Bulma giggle as he threw both their jumbo-size paper cups in the nearby garbage can.

They were walking towards the university main campus, crossing the wide cast-iron gates like they were entering a castle, summoned to court by its king - it just had that kind of imposing feel to it, somehow. The old architecture emanated a sense of knowledge, like many great minds had passed by their thick, massive walls and infused them with their geniuses. They were granite, he noticed - the embedded glitter within the stone was a dead giveaway - which was not a common construction material in this day and age, so it too spoke for this place's age.

Those white buildings to the the side, though, those were obviously a later addition. There were about five of them, chalk-white and all lined up along the right edge of the perimeter. The one closest to them held a plaque over the entrance that read "Residence A", so they would be student's housing, which made sense. The closer to campus the better, he assumed.

Navigating seemingly aimlessly through the insides of the colossal structure, they reached the far end of the compound where a bright green field extended its lengths all the way to the back, its white markings shedding light regarding its function. "The football field! Go Tigers!" Bulma cheered, arms stretched high into the sky. "This brings back so many cool memories... Come on!" She latched herself around his arm and ran towards the ample bleachers.

They sat on the completely empty stand, taking in their surroundings, wide and undisturbed, no soul in sight. "This is a great place to study," she told him. "It's very peaceful. Other than match day, of course. Did you know that Yamcha played football for a while? Before he sissied out for baseball?"

"Did he?"

"Yeah, he played right here. I tried to take his mind off fighting by offering a better alternative, and suggested he gave football a try. They have one of the best non-pro teams."

"But... wouldn't he have to be a student to play?"

Bulma fake-chuckled mischievously. "He sure would, and that would've been the icing on the cake of my genius grooming process. I suggested he could study Sports Education, so he could open his own dojo someday. He attended for a while."

Wow, he had no clue. Yamcha had never seemed like the college type, but then again, Sports Education didn't strike him as all that intellectual, anyway. Though it was probably a misconception on his part. "Why did he leave?"

She crossed her arms and slouched in her seat. "Because he's a dumbass! He wanted to be the quarterback, but the coach wanted him in the line because he was so much stronger than the rest of the players. Neither would budge so he simply left."

His football knowledge was a little rusty, but the quarterback position was an important one, if he wasn't mistaken. Like being the team leader. "He wanted it that badly, huh?"

"Of course, he did! The quarterback calls all the shots and gets all the girls, what's not to like about it? Douchebag…" He'd never asked Bulma about it, but he had a feeling those had been exactly the same reasons they'd broken up in the first place - calling the shots, getting the girls. Hopefully Yamcha hadn't sunk so low as to cheat on her, back then… "He wanted the fame and glory of the position," she went on to say, "but it takes more than that to be a quarterback. It's a lot of responsibility, too. The coach wanted to humble him a little, but you know Yamcha, 'humble' just doesn't exist in his playbook, so he ended up changing the pigskin for a bat and balls."

Gohan forced out a smile. The man did excell on the baseball front, quickly becoming the star batter for the Taitans, so he seemed to have gotten his fame and glory in the end.

Bulma sighed. "I wish they were at least practicing, but I guess it's too early in the day. I wanted you to see them."

"The football team?"

"Yeah, I wanted to see if you'd be bitten by the football bug, like I have." She giggled. "You don't have to, but I think it would be good for you to practice some kind of sport other than martial arts. Expand your horizons and all that crap."

Maybe. He did like fighting, but… fighting had been his life more than it had a sport, admittedly. Something that was born with him, in a way, via the blood in his veins. "I can come see them one day, if I get accepted."

"Oh, you'll get accepted, all right! Your brains alone will see to that come the admittance exams." She looked at her wristwatch again. "But even so, I want you to be treated properly around here so… let's go!"

Gohan stood up when she did, following her down the metal steps and onto the ground. "Where are we going now?"

"To the dean's office."

"Dean Momo, how are you, Sir? Thank you so much for granting us this meeting. I know you're very busy," Bulma addressed the important-looking man, shaking his hand as she and Gohan entered his majestic office, decorated in blue and gold brocade fabric and intricate oak furniture. And it was huge too! Why did a dean need this much space?

"Oh, nonsense, Ms. Briefs," the little round man said, the fat beneath his chin bobbing as he spoke. "As my late father used to say, 'you are never too old or too busy for a pretty lady'."

Cute... They both laughed, though Bulma's was the President Briefs' polite chuckle, not her real one. "Your father was clearly a very bright man, dean Momo."

"Most certainly." The man looked at him now, head to toe over his half-rimmed glasses. "And who is this handsome young man?" Did he really have to call him that…?

"My name is Gohan Son, Sir. Nice to meet you." He shook the man's hand.

"Oh, my, that's a strong handshake you've got there. Please, have a seat." Gohan pulled up the bulky chair for Bulma, and then took his seat beside her. "So, tell me. What brings you here today?"

"Well, Sir," Bulma said, glancing at the young Saiyan for a moment, "my nephew here, is going to take his admittance exams to enroll in OSPU through the full-scholarship program, and I wanted to come introduce him to you personally, since I'm sure you'll want to be keeping an eye on this one. He's quite the prodigy."

"Is he now? Coming from you, Ms. Briefs, that's quite the statement. Your nephew is it?"

"Yes, his father is my husband's brother," she told the man, seemingly unfazed apart from the way she pressed her lips together to keep a grin contained. Brothers? His dad and Vegeta… Brothers… He ended up having to suppress his own smile at the mere thought of Vegeta's reaction. Priceless...

"Your husband?" Dean Momo continued to ask. "I didn't realize you were married, Ms. Briefs."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Sir, I should clarify. We never got married but I still call him that. I prefer it over partner. It's so... formal, I guess."

Since they'd only address Vegeta by name, it'd also been the first time he'd heard the title leaving Bulma's lips, but he'd have to agree, "partner" just made it seem like they worked together or something. He'd heard both her and his mother using the term "mate" too, from time to time, but since that word was mostly Vegeta's, he assumed it was a Saiyan thing.

He never understood why that was the word they'd use, however, when the subject was husbands and wives. It'd be expected from the older Saiyan, but Mom, and Dad, and Bulma using it too? It just seemed odd, for some reason, since that kind of terminology was mainly used for animals and breeding.

Maybe there was just something lost in the translation from the Saiyan dialect, or maybe Vegeta had told them the reason behind that word and Gohan simply wasn't aware of it. That option actually made the most sense, since they'd always have this… "aura" about them when saying it, like it was something special. He'd never bothered to ask about it, since it could lead to "the talk" and he wasn't ready for that particular embarrassment at the time. Or ever.

The chubby man chuckled. "I fully understand. So tell me, Son, have you given it any thought regarding your line of studies?"

Not even a bit. "My mother likes the thought of me being a doctor…"

Another chuckle. "As most mothers do, I came to understand. But what do you like?"

There was silence then, in the room, in his head. He should know this, shouldn't he? What did he like...? He liked Mom's pot-roast, he liked the color red - or was it deep orange? He never knew what to call it, that particular shade of his father's gi. He liked to spar, to read, to hike… What else? Oh, coffee, of course, and chocolate, but none of those would respond the man's question.

He'd always studied everything. From atomic energy and math, to poetry and art and a handful of foreign languages. Mom had always told him he should know everything to be ready for everything, so they'd never bothered to pick only one field of studies in detriment of others. Obviously, it made him not take the time to look at the subjects with his heart instead of his brain, but then again, he'd never thought he'd be needing to make a choice. Mom had always been the one making these decisions for him.

He guessed it backfired, huh? Knowing everything was exactly what made him not be ready for this.

But the fact that he was good at everything didn't mean he liked everything, did it? Well, architecture, for example; he understood everything about it, but it was boring as hell! The best part about it were the calculations, and the influence of gravity and the environment on the structures and all that, but that was mainly math and physics. And engineering.

"Engineering," he finally responded. "Math. Physics. Oh, and Biology." He liked that too. Bulma snickered to his side.

"Oh, I see you've got yourself a disciple, Ms. Briefs," Dean Momo said.

They laughed. "Although only as an off-the-records consultant due to his age," she told the man, "Gohan has helped me with a wide array of projects, providing my engineers with priceless and, may I say, genius insights."

"Really? That is quite an accomplishment for a young man such as yourself," the dean told him. Bulma did know how to sell it, didn't she? He'd just read the files she'd bring him and give her his opinion, what's so genius about that? If one didn't die of boredom with all the technical mumbo-jumbo and understood what the problem was, it became a simple matter of analyzing the options and choosing the most efficient solution. Surely, all those big-name scientists back at Capsule Corporation would've reached the same conclusions as himself, eventually.

Nevertheless, the man did give him a compliment. "Thank you, Sir."

"I'll be sure to keep an eye on you, Mr. Son. You will be a fine addition to our institution. Have you managed to schedule your admittance exams, yet?"

"No, Sir. Not yet."

"You can take care of it directly with my assistant Hannah, back there. She can provide you with a list of people you should meet in the Science and Tech departments. They should be able to help you decide on your major. Or majors, if you prefer. Hannah will inform you further but to benefit from the full-scholarship program you must declare them right at the beginning of your first year, so the sooner you decide, the better."

Awesome… No pressure. "Sure. I appreciate all your help."

"Thank you, dean Momo," Bulma said, standing up and reaching over to shake the man's hand once more, Gohan following her lead. "I'll be sure to come meet you in the Alumni Christmas Gala in a few months. I'm looking forward to it."

"I'm looking forward to hearing your speech, Ms. Briefs. You are truly an inspiration."

"Thank you, Sir. Have a good day."

They left the office towards the dean's assistant. Eyeing the floor, Gohan whispered to Bulma, "My dad and Vegeta, huh?"

It made her giggle. "Well, I don't look anything like your mom, and it's not that far off, technically. I mean, they are from the same race. That makes them kind of brothers, doesn't it?"

"Yeah. I guess you're right." Though Vegeta would still break his neck if he ever found out they'd made that particular link between their family trees. His neck, of course, since someone had to pay for the offense and Bulma ranked high enough in the Prince's consideration not to be tortured to death. Unfortunately, she was the only one...

Man, he was full. Bulma meant well, but maybe she should've stopped ordering food for him after the tenth platter of Chashu pork. Sure he ate a lot, but he was all by himself today, so there was no small army to feed, like usual. At least they were walking again, re-entering the campus after leaving the small restaurant nearby, so he'd be able to digest everything a lot faster.

"I'm so glad your mom taught you how to be a proper gentleman," Bulma said then, grinning. "If it'd been your dad eating back there, it would've been a fucking pig-fest."

Gohan smiled. His father's table manners were world renowned, no doubt. "He never had a problem with being the center of attentions."

Bulma snorted loudly. "That's for sure!"

"So, where to, now?"

"Why, coffee, of course!" she beamed. Of course, and a big one, if he knew her properly. It was normally an early-morning thing only for him, coffee, but today he could make an exception. He needed to be on his A-game, since he had a lot of thinking to do.

After they'd left the dean's office, they'd visited some of the professors in the Science and Tech building, and for hours he just listened and asked questions, letting all the information sink in and organize itself in his head. He had been to Bulma's labs before, and they were certainly much larger than the ones they had here, but still he was kind of impressed with all the stuff they had going on here.

Optimized nanocomposite materials for all sorts of storage applications, some pretty innovative modeling software to study human and animal movement, but most of all - and the twinkle in Bulma's eyes - an ongoing coupled Reynolds-averaged Navier-Stokes large eddy simulation of a turbine compressor and prediffuser. Really cool stuff, he had to admit.

"I hope it's still there…" Bulma said as they approached the far-left edge of the compound. "Oh, yeah! It's there, alright!" She pointed over to a crowd of people that gathered around... something - a coffee cart, he made out after a few more steps - just beside a stone staircase leading to yet another old-looking building. "And from the looks of it, it's still the good stuff. Come on, let's take a look at the library while we wait for the crowd to clear up a bit. Damn vultures…"

Oh, so that building was the library - good to know - and like everything else he'd seen today, it was also big and impressive. The monumentally high ceiling, adorned with renaissance-style paintings of what he could make out as angels or cherubs or some shit, spaciously accommodated three whole mezzanine-type floors of nothing but books, arranged neatly in heavy dark-oak shelves. Each floor was sectioned with six perpendicularly-placed shelving units, between which there were lines of individually lit desks, each one comfortably sitting groups of four, though they were mostly empty. Surely that would change when classes actually started.

Bulma whispered, really close to his face, "Do you know what's my favorite thing about this whole library?" He shook his head negatively. "You can bring your coffee in from outside." Her lips gapped ever so widely, palms straightened and eyebrows skyrocketing as if she was talking about the most unbelieving gift the gods could ever provide. The anticipation of his response was palpable, but he could only press his lips together and stare silently at her. "What? That's an important piece of information, Mister! You'll thank me for it come finals week after you pull an all-nighter or two."

He chuckled quietly. "I bet." They walked around a bit, and Bulma showed him her favorite books in the physics section, explaining the procedures he'd have to undertake if he wanted to check out a book - at least how she did it when she attended.

After a while, they were ready to leave, and the coffee cart was finally somewhat de-crowded. They got their orders and Bulma took a big sip of her hot beverage, exhaling in contentment.

"How about we go over to my place?" she suggested. "It's still early, so you can train for a while if you want. Crank up the GR to your full capacity and not just the kids'. I know you Saiyans think better when you're training."

"Sure."

"Oh, before I forget." She reached for something in her purse as she continued. "When I went to enroll the kids, I gave the school our cellphone numbers as the main contacts in case they need to talk to us about anything."

Gohan furrowed his brow. "But... you know I don't have a cellphone."

Bulma grinned and handed something over to him. "You do now." It was a latest generation Capsule Corp. Gen-01 Slim, the first cellphone as thick as an average ruler - he recognized it from the ad. "I was considering giving you the Micro version instead but I figured that, with your big hands, you would prefer thin over tiny."

He was used to receiving gifts from her but a cellphone…? "I don't think my mom would like it that I have a cellphone, Bulma."

It made her snort. "Well, first, you're a grown man now, so she just has to get over it. Second, you have to always be available if they have an emergency back at school. And third…" She paused a little, smirking in that particular way that'd always make him think of impending doom. "If you're going to college, you need it to ring home at night or during the weekends you have to stay on campus. Goten and Mia would miss you too much if you weren't just a phone call away."

Gohan blinked. Say what? "Wait… I'm going to be living here?"

She grinned proudly. "Yes. Yes, you are."

"But... why? It's just a little under two hours away by bus, and if I fly, it's only thirty minutes, give or take."

Bulma sighed, a flick of her head indicating her wish for them to sit down on the bench in front of the coffee cart, just a few steps away. He foresaw this to be one conversation of the serious kind and got comfortable, crossing his legs atop the seat and leaning back against the armrest, facing Bulma. She got really close to him, her hip touching his bent knees, stroking his leg in comfort.

She smiled, then. "Do you remember when we first met?"

He was kind of surprised with the sudden change of direction but curled the tips of his lips. "I was four."

"Four and a half. You were a little scared of all the new people, but after a while you got comfortable enough and started exploring. You had a spark in your eyes, an endless curiosity, and joy in the little things." She paused, her smile vanished. "You don't have it anymore. The spark."

He looked down at his coffee, ashamed because he knew it was true.

"I know when it happened, and I understand why it did, but… it breaks my heart, Gohan."

His anxious fingers played with the plastic around his cup, not sure of what to say. He wanted to tell her he was sorry, at least, because it'd all been his fault - if Dad was still around, everything would be okay, so the blame was on him - but he'd said those words so many times after his father had died that they kind of lost their meaning. They had never seemed like enough, anyway.

"I know it's in there somewhere," she continued to say, "and I know you can find it, but for that to happen you have to become your own man. The one you were meant to be."

He was pretty sure that man had died a long time ago. "I... don't know who that is."

"I know that, and that's why you're gonna stay here, to figure it out for yourself. I'm tired of just standing by and let you drift through life, Gohan. You're a fucking hero, for crying out loud! You deserve the world by your side and not against you."

Some hero… Letting people down all the time. Letting them die...

"I can't just leave them like that, Bulma," he told her. Mom, Goten, Mia… they were all he had left to show for, since everything else had fallen along the way. He couldn't fail them too; he'd failed Dad already.

"Your mom is more than capable of taking care of the three of them by herself, and your brother and sister will surely be happy to help out too, when they return home from school," Bulma insisted. "They're amazing kids, Gohan. You raised them. You should give them more credit."

It made him smile absentmindedly, his gaze still on his coffee. Maybe… Maybe he should.

Bulma's soft hand touched his jaw and brought it back up, her thumb lovingly tracing his cheek. "I won't let you die on me, and I won't see you fade away."

Would it matter? He already felt like a ghost most of the times anyway, but as he looked deep into her aqua-blue eyes, so determined and full of love… This woman had been more of a mother to him over these past years than his own - disease could do that to a person - so maybe he could give it a try. For her. He'd do it for Bulma.

Mind made up, he smirked. "I take it you neglected to mention this ... detail to my mom when she agreed to this?"

The older woman snickered and smirked back. "You leave your mother to me."

Holy crap, he hadn't trained like that for a good while now. Goten and Trunks' two hundred and fifty times normal gravity was still a struggle for the boys - their most recent multiplier factor - but next to nothing on his body, and since no workout worthy of a Saiyan would end without something aching, bleeding, or broken - or all of the above - being in the GR with the two little ones didn't really cut for him, physically.

Stubbornly, he told himself he'd make it to five hundred this time, and he did, but damn, that shit was intense. And awesome.

If only he'd have someone he could spar with on a regular basis, at his own level, someone that could actually pose a challenge. Piccolo's power had long become too little to keep up with his, and without Dad or Vegeta around… Well, the mountains back home didn't really fight back, did they? Maybe one day, when the kids were older.

His aching bicep burned as he reached up to run a hand through his damp hair. The boiling-hot shower had helped to ease the pain a bit, but it came to him as clear as day now that he'd slightly but surely overdone it. Tomorrow would definitely suck.

The training had been very helpful in sorting out his ramblings, however. He had made a thorough mental check-list, stepping into the GR - as his slightly-perfectionist self would - and managed to reach a decision regarding every single one of its topics during the five whole hours he'd been in there. Shit, five already? He'd never realized it to be true, but Bulma was right: Saiyans might actually think better over an extreme workout. Who knew?

He focused his sensing abilities to grab a hold of Bulma's Ki signature, and beelined directly to her home office where she would normally catch up on some work. When she wasn't at the lab facilities or Capsule Corporation's main office buildings downtown, that is. He knocked before entering. "Bulma?"

"Hey!" she beamed from over her computer screen. "How did it go?" She pulled over a nearby chair and patted the seat, inviting him to sit right next to her. "You've been in there for a while, huh?"

"Yeah, sorry. I didn't even notice the time passing."

"Don't be silly," she said, waving off a discarding hand. "Mi casa, yada yada, forget about that! Tell me what's the verdict? Are you gonna apply to OSPU?"

His eyebrows rose. "Well... yeah, that was already established."

"Eeeeee! I'm so happy, Gohan!" Bulma screeched a little too close to his ear, just before hugging him super tightly around the neck for a second. Where in the world did she get all that strength? "I just didn't want to push it, ya know? If you didn't really want to do it. That would defeat the whole purpose." True. Thinking things through for himself, deciding on important matters for the future, it all came with being a man, he guessed. The one he's meant to be. "What have you decided?"

"Biomechanical Engineering and Applied Physics," he told her. "Kinda hard choosing just two, but I think that's what I want." Not the most demanding of disciplines, maybe, but since he'd be in it for the destination instead of the ride, meaning what he could do with the degree and not what he'd actually be studying - since he'd ace whatever he'd choose, surely - these were the best choices in the end. Theoretical Physics had also been on the plate, pushing the envelope for new ideas instead of investigating the possibilities for the near future of mankind, but he could always delve on it in his spare time, he guessed.

Bulma smiled lovingly. "And most important, that's what you like, right?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Cool, that's all that matters. Work without passion is just a job, and you don't win Nobel Prizes without passion for your work, that's for sure."

Gohan smiled back. She'd most definitely win an award for her work somewhere along the line. It was just a matter of time, now. "I've also been thinking about the football thing you talked about."

She gasped. "And? And?"

"I wanted to try it. I mean, I'd have to polish up on some of the rules, but that's not really a problem."

"Then... what is?"

He shrugged a shoulder. "The same it's ever been, my power being too much."

"Oh… I see."

"I can control it, but it's exhausting to do it at such a level." Hiding one's Ki was a pain all in itself, but he'd kept it toned down to the same level for so many years that it'd long turned second nature to him, so his brain had learned to disregard the nuisance. Like seeing one's nose or something, since it's always there but you don't acknowledge it until you do.

But this would be a whole other ball game, though, since the base level he'd normally upkeep would still be too high. The slightest misjudgment during a match, or a single second that'd rob him of his focus, and something really bad could happen; he could really hurt someone. And he wasn't even considering the unfairness of it all. "I mean I could try," he went on to say, eyeing his hands, "but... I don't know."

Bulma kept quiet for a moment, but soon spoke up and then stood. "I have something…"

Gohan's gaze followed her curiously as she walked towards the back of the office, raiding one specific and clearly too cluttered drawer. She returned to her seat with what appeared to be a big metal band of sorts.

"This is a Ki suppressor cuff," Bulma explained. "I made it years ago when we came back from Namek and I wanted to bring Vegeta down from his self-entitled pedestal. Just imagine his face, waking up and being a 'puny little earthling' like the rest of us." She chuckled. Yeah, and he could just imagine his face afterwards too, destroying this mudball of a planet in a fit of rage. "Anyway, I never got to put it to action, but if you want, we can do some tests to find out if it serves the purpose."

Gohan took it in his hand and analysed the device. It was simple enough: around two fingers wide, about… maybe two millimeters thick, rigid, and with a small latch on one of the sides, which would be the opening mechanism. "What does it do, exactly?"

"Basically, it reduces your maximum power level. Or at least that's what I was aiming for. I'm guessing it should also affect your speed, resistance, and overall agility, though I'm not sure if it would interfere with other abilities like Ki sensing and such."

He opened the device and inspected its inner surface, running his fingertips around the small copper disc that stood out from the brushed aluminium cuff. Presumably, the disc should connect to the inside area of the wrist.

Bulma continued. "I mean, you would always be much stronger than your average human, I assume, but it might just be enough. And you don't have to keep hiding your power because it does it for you."

Would he even be able to do that, not hide his power? It was like she was telling him he wouldn't be needing to breathe. All things considered, there was no loss in giving it a go, right? "Okay," he responded after a while.

Bulma looked surprised. "Okay?"

"Yeah, why not?" His brain took over entirely then, racing through the science and what needed to be done to assess the thing's true capabilities. "We should do some tests, measure what it can actually do. I'll wear it around to check for side-effects or abnormalities we can improve on. Maybe take some blood and do a routine medical check-up at the beginning and a week or two afterwards, just to be sure."

The woman chuckled happily and pressed her index finger to his forehead. "See? Now there's a genius brain in action! I know a fucking scientist when I see one, and you, my adoring little nephew, are gonna be my wing-man around here. I can't wait!"

He smiled. It'd be cool working with her, actually. "So, how do you want to do the tests?"

Bulma smirked. "You tell me. Consider it your first assignment." She cleared her throat and eyed the ceiling in thought. "Construct a realistic protocol that ensures the scientific method in measuring the significant variable effects of this thing-a-ma-jig on the body of a half-Saiyan male adult." Gohan snickered. How many lab reports had she read over the years, he wondered? He'd bet somewhere in the order of the thousands, and the technical lingo would surely support his claim.

"Okay, let's see." He looked down at said thing-a-ma-jig and rapidly assembled a line of action. "We need to establish a baseline first, so do some physical and mental exercises at the beginning, and then repeat the process with the suppressor on. Maybe running track to measure speed, the GR for resistance, and…" He smirked. Oh, yeah, that'd be perfect. "Paintball guns to establish agility."

"Paintball guns?" Bulma almost squealed and then chuckled loudly.

"Yeah, I'm sure the kids won't mind shooting at me to see if I can dodge the pellets."

She stared at him for a moment, a huge grin plastered across her face. "Shit, Gohan, that's brilliant! I would never have thought of paintball guns."

Gohan just smiled a bit and continued. "If you still have the scouter around, we can make note of the actual power levels before and after, and maybe an IQ test for mental capacities, though I don't think it will affect them."

"Yeah, I agree," Bulma said. "Not with the way it's been constructed, but it doesn't hurt to be extra careful. I've written the mechanism's specifics somewhere. I'll find them for you so you can understand how it works and everything."

"That'd be great. Thanks."

"No problem!" she cheered. "I'm really excited about this! I'll just have to tweak the scouter's amplitude to accommodate for higher levels so the thing doesn't explode on us. Oh, and get us some rad paintball guns!" She was way too excited about that… He was mostly sure he'd have four people shooting at him instead of three. "Hey, I know! Maybe we can do next Saturday's lunch here! We can do the tests in the morning, and that way you'll have the whole week to study for your exams on Friday without any distractions."

"Sounds like a plan."

A week ran by with the blink of an eye.

Goten and Mia were on cloud-nine over school. They were enjoying it so much that every single afternoon upon arriving home, they wouldn't stop talking about anything and everything that'd happened that day. Every… thing. All the way down to the color of the freaking worms they'd dug out of the dirt on the school's playground - Burnt Sienna? Really?

Luckily, the house was extremely quiet the rest of the day, so Gohan managed to review some of the subjects he wanted for his admittance exams and aced them, of course. Goten and Mia weren't too happy when they were told he'd be living back at the campus, but he promised they could call him whenever they wanted and that reassured them a little. The full reality of it would probably only sink in come next weekend when he actually moved out.

"You should give them more credit," Bulma's words resonated within his mind like a mantra. They would be alright.

Mom wasn't really thrilled about that particular piece of information either, but Bulma had sat her down and dove into a lengthy, heartfelt conversation with her, culminating in the miracle that was his mother's acceptance of the whole thing. He still couldn't quite grasp the mere severity of that alone. It's like Bulma had finally managed to shake her awake, after all these years.

She would wake up a little more active, and it would last for a few more hours than the day before, and for Gohan, that came as such a relief that… that he couldn't really put into words. His real mother was still buried too deeply into this current one - her happy spirit, her smile, her sense of humor - still a long way from her old self, but he couldn't really ask for more right now. Not after this breakthrough.

She'd even brought him a snack while he was studying, like she used to when he was a boy. It made him realize just how much he'd really missed her, which made it hard not to pursue the improvement, trying to push it further. But she would recover at her own pace, and he'd patiently wait for her. He was just glad to see her again.

It was now Saturday, and as planned, the Son family had arrived early at Bulma's for the Ki suppressor testing and their family lunch. They'd set up shop in the currently deserted Capsule Corporation's recreational building, where they'd started with the medical exams before moving on to the baseline tests, repeating the process with the cuff on afterwards.

The building was new to him, a mammoth of a thing but that didn't surprise him a bit since everything else on the compound was just as monumental. It harbored a fully equipped gym and all sorts of sports and services, like a full-time masseuse and a nurse, though there was only one thing in there he'd certainly be giving a try in the future; the newest addition, occupying the whole top floor: An olympic-size swimming pool with temperature and density control, developed specifically to allow its occupants to adjust the water's physical properties for resistance training.

Bulma and her father had always been very clear with their intentions when it came to the way they treated their employees. The company had even won an award for the best place to work in, though it wasn't a possibility for your run-of-the-mill scientist. Only the top-dogs would have the chance of a mere interview, and of those, only the best would be cherry-picked to make the full-time payroll, and that was only after a couple of months of "boot camp", as Bulma called it.

Sure the benefits were amazing, but the work was extremely hard and mentally challenging, usually under tight schedules and rough conditions, so those that would make the final cut were more than deserving of all the perks the company could offer. Nourished bodies equaled nourished minds, and that was priceless in their line of business.

After all the tests had been completed, they were ready for lunch. The Ki suppressor had worked properly, as far as Gohan could tell, although they would only have the full results in a few hours. It actually surprised him how the thing made him feel... lighter. Not physically, as proven by the infinitely slower time around the track and the colored stains on his white jumpsuit, courtesy of some a-little-too-excited devilish half-Saiyans armed with paintball guns and maniacal laughs.

Maybe it was just his imagination, but anyway, the plan was to keep the cuff on until next Saturday, when they'd redo the blood analysis and physical tests.

The massive meal was rapidly and thoroughly consumed, and the kids dashed over to Trunks' room while his mom joined Mrs. Briefs in the kitchen for what he could only wish was baking a cake for the afternoon tea or something of the nature. Gohan and Bulma were just arriving by her office when her computer pinged.

"Oh, goodie! Right on time," Bulma said while flying to her post-it ridden monitor. For a tech genius, she did love her sticky colored papers a lot. She rapidly analyzed the results on the screen as Gohan sat down next to her and proceeded to do the same. Her index finger traced the information written there. "Hmm, see? The mental exercises had absolutely no changes, so you're off the hook on that matter, and... the medical and blood analysis came back normal, considering your earlier records." His only ones, courtesy of the Wukong hospital, after he'd been admitted for observation following the fight with Vegeta. Left to see was if those values would change over the course of next week.

"Let's just crunch the numbers, here," Bulma continued, keying in a few digits into the software. "Yep, just as I figured. Your overall strength decreased to about one percent of your total relaxed power."

Gohan nodded in agreement. "Yeah. Speed decreased to one seventy-nine percent, resistance to eleven forty-nine percent, and agility to four point seventeen. That's actually pretty amazing."

She grinned smugly. "It truly is. Can you still sense Ki?"

He paused for a bit, looking up and searching for Trunks' signature, since it was the biggest one in the house. It was pretty easy to find, just as always, so he did a quick check on the rest of the smaller ones before nodding. "Yeah. I can feel everyone just like I did before."

"Cool. And how about you? Do you feel any different?"

"Not really," he told her, looking down at his hand for some reason. "I kind of feel lighter, but the results clearly indicate that, if anything, I should feel heavier."

"Hmm, maybe the decrease in your Ki has something to do with it... Let's just see how the week goes and we'll take it from there."

Gohan nodded once more in agreement, letting his eyes drift to his now cuffed left wrist.

"Oh, and if you feel anything strange," Bulma added, "or aching, or just... wrong, take it off immediately, okay? I don't want you getting hurt or going all Bruce Banner on me or some shit. Your mother would kill me."

Gohan chuckled at the thought. "I've already been an uncontrollable giant creature before, thank you very much."

Bulma laughed, lifting a hand to caress his cheek. She'd always give him that look whenever his sense of humor decided to remind him it still lived somewhere inside his body. Hopefully it was just pride and not pity; sometimes he got those confused. "Although not green," she said.

"Not green." Thank the heavens.

I really like the idea of the Son's and the Briefs' being more than just friends who get together every couple of years or so.

To me, Bulma, although very much a clearly pampered girl, grows up into a confident, bubbly, mature woman, and very much family-oriented. My Bulma would go the extra mile to be around for her extended family as well, and would treat them as her own relatives. She and Chi-Chi have so much in common (even more so since in this story Vegeta is also dead) that I would totally see her being kind of a second mom to her kids, and I can clearly see this kind of relationship between Gohan and Bulma happening.

What do you think?

Please review!