EDITED - 05/01/2014
...
Hey, guys!
So, I've decided to have a little extra fun with the story. :D
I don't know if you guys are fans or ever watched Team Four Star's DBZ Abridged (check it out on youtube), but I'm going to make sort of a game out of this chapter. There are 5 references to the series hidden within the text. Can you spot them all? :D If you can, you're welcome to leave a comment (and a review, while you're at it xD) or PM me.
For those of you who aren't familiar or aren't interested, this doesn't affect the story at all. So disregard and keep on reading. :D
Enjoy!
Today's practice was harsh, but Gohan was getting used to it.
A couple of weeks ago, Coach Leon had relayed all the new information that'd come from "the suits", as he'd called them, that were in charge of the upcoming Capsule Cup championship. The competition would begin in the next school year, and stretch from October all the way through February when the big final would take place, but most importantly than that, it'd been announced that the winner of this year's inter-college elimination matches would be automatically selected to play in the tournament.
And so, it was with no surprise that the physical workouts had been turned up a notch or two in preparation for the remaining matches of the season, not to mention the strategy exercises that had been repeated to exhaustion, every single tactic on the playlist. Double the pushups and situps, double the specific position training, and double just about everything else, accomplished only by an increase in the practice hours as well, at least another half an hour per day.
Gohan was okay with it though. The straining his body would go through in these days would make him way too tired to listen to his brain's ramblings, allowing him to fall asleep at proper hours instead of lying in bed awake, just staring at the ceiling. Just staring and thinking of Videl.
Drifting away from her was a task he hadn't really been able to accomplish entirely, if only for her stubbornness in not allowing it to happen. For the first few days after their movie night, he did manage to disengage from her somewhat, mostly because it was too painful to see her, to suppress the fluttering in his chest whenever she'd smile at him, look at him so lovingly and with a sparkle in her eyes, but after that, it became even more painful to see how sad and confused she'd become whenever he'd push her away.
Compromising with himself, he'd decided to just keep things from evolving any further between them, and pray that he could follow through with his plan if she ever decided to try kissing him again. As strong as he was, he didn't think he'd be able to override his body into stopping her from doing it.
"Eighty-eight. Eighty-nine," he counted the one-armed pushups in forced whispers, not exactly struggling but not quite as proficient as he hoped for, given the tiredness, so the hot aching in his left bicep was forcing him to focus a little harder than usual on the delivery.
It helped counting the sequence out loud as you go, something he'd long gotten used to applying to all his personal workouts. It was one of the many lessons he'd learned from his father. "It trains your mind to listen to itself," he'd say, and it made total sense in his mind, a sort of placebo effect, not to mention his first-hand empirical evidence was indisputable. Anytime things had gotten a little rough when he was a kid, or he'd whimpered about not being able to do something, his father would instruct him to convince his mind that he could, no matter what. Numbering every pushup translated his own words for his brain, telling it, "Come on, man! Only ten more to go! Only nine to go. Only eight to go," and his body coerced the repetitions.
People would laugh in his face if he proclaimed his father to be a genius of any kind, but that teaching alone was proof as far as he was concerned. Anyone could gain knowledge or train their brains to become smarter, studying non-stop to cram information into their heads, but genius couldn't be taught, it could only be born. Dad was a master at his craft, not only when fighting on his own, but also at transmitting those doctrines to others. To him.
He was lucky to have been born first. Goten and Mia would never have a teacher so awesome.
"Ninety-nine. One hundred." And that was it. Swiftly getting up to his feet, his face immediately stretched a restrained smile when he sensed a familiar presence nearby.
Only if you knew the person well enough would their private signature become so unmistakable from far away. Dad's, Piccolo's, and the kids', those were the one's he could make out from a longer distance, Mom's and Bulma's coming close but not quite since their Kis were really low when in comparison. And now Videl's apparently. Though none of the others could match his Dad's, so far. He'd probably be able to sense him from here all the way to their house, if he'd been there.
Gohan turned around, his eyes immediately spotting her where he already knew her to be, entering the Tiger's grounds way out in the distance. When Vi got closer and spotted him, she grinned and lifted up the book on fluid dynamics he'd left at the girls' house after one of their group study sessions. So fucking stubborn, he thought, shaking his head while recalling telling her very clearly that he didn't need the tome when she'd texted him that he'd forgotten. She put the book on the team's bench, trading a few words with Coach Leon about her business there, he assumed, and turned back the way she came. One final wave goodbye which he reciprocated, and then she left.
A deep breath filled him up with those damn mixed feelings again. Seeing her was always something he cherished, of course, but that damn little voice inside his head kept reminding him that he wasn't normal, so he should stop acting like he was. How could a monster be with a princess? Not even in fairy tales, so what chances did he have in real life?
That loud drilling noise he hated rung all across the field then, cutting his self-pity short and indicating Coach's command to end today's session with his annoying silver whistle. As they'd learned to be their instructions after such cue, the worn-out Tigers approached the small man and gathered around him.
"You did good today," he said. "Go on home, get some rest. You've earned it." Judging by the tiredness in his voice, Coach Leon needed just as much rest as they did.
Gohan was preparing to leave when a blunt impact to the back of his shoulder made him stumble sideways a bit, but surprise only took him for a second, giving way to intense annoyance which he directed in the form of a glare towards his attacker. Had it been anyone else he would've shrugged it off as an accident, but it'd been Rick who'd shoved him out of his way, armed with that detestable smirk he always wore so proudly.
Calm down, he told himself. Stooping down to the guy's level was a level too low, even lower considering he'd probably break Rick's shoulder blade if he'd decided to serve him the same disrespectful gesture. It'd be a jab too big on his pride if he'd let a nobody like him forget his discipline.
Cell had made him forget it seven years ago; he could just imagine the bastard mocking him at the comparison down in Hell.
"That's it!" he heard Coach Leon shout. The man pointed a finger at Rick and then at Gohan, sternly adding, "You two. My office. Now!" and then he was off to the locker rooms.
Rick crossed his arms and started following, glancing over his shoulder at the young Saiyan for a moment with a smirk even deeper than before. He could only sigh at that, dragging his cleats along the grass behind the other two. Just what he needed right now on top of his tired body and even more tired mind, dealing with an insufferable moron.
Crap baskets…
Arriving at the locker room area, he saw Rick enter the coaches' office and assumed the man had entered it priorly. When he got to the threshold, Coach Leon was sitting behind his cluttered desk, eyeing both his players rigidly as they entered the room. Rick let himself plop unceremoniously onto a random chair and Gohan did the same - though a little more gracefully - after closing the door behind him.
He'd barely touched his seat when Coach asked lowly, "What is wrong with you, Rick?"
"I have no idea what you mean, Coach," was the dimwit's answer, completely disrespectful, in Gohan's opinion, with the way he was looking around to everywhere but the man who'd asked him the question. Like an infant, making believe he was all grown up, but being a man also meant looking authority in the eye - heck, looking everyone in the eye as they're being confronted. More and more so Rick was proving to him just how not a man he was. Thank goodness Vi was over him for good.
"The hell with that!" Coach shot back, former serenity forgotten over the irritation. "You know exactly what I mean, so spit it out! What's the matter between you two?"
Oh, how he wished there was absolutely nothing in the world he'd have in common with the guy, have him be only a distant memory in Vi's past and nothing more. How he yearned not to see his ugly mug during practice, not to have the guy stare at him with presumably scary eyes as some sort of intimidation tactic while he was doing his pushups. No such luck. "This asshole went behind my back and stole my girlfriend, that's what's wrong! He's a damn backstabber!" Rick seethed, pointing a supposedly threatening finger his way. He didn't manage to stop his eyes from rolling at the accusation; same old speech every single time, it was getting old.
Coach Leon inhaled deeply and slowly, releasing the air even slower while the tense silence hung around in the room. Even after the man's breaths returned to normal, he still held on to his words for a moment, just staring at Rick, before finally saying, completely serene, "You know what? She seems to be taking it pretty damn good, so you just have to get over it."
Rick actually gasped. "Get over it?" he asked, and then basically screamed, "Get over it? She's my girlfriend! Mine! We're supposed to be a unit; how can I trust someone that goes behind my back like that? You have to kick him off the team!"
Coach's eyes narrowed. "You do know that she's an actual person, right?"
"You're not hearing me, old man!" Oh, Piccolo would so throw him into a mountain for that one. Old man? "He has to go! I can't be on the same team as he is!"
"Then you go," Coach stated, undisturbed by the guy's worked up attitude.
That got Rick to shut up for a moment. His eyebrows twitching, mouth wide open, he looked like he was having a stroke or something. "What the hell did you just say?"
"Go," Coach repeated.
"You… you can't be serious! You're taking his side?"
"Do you think I'm stupid, Rick?" the older man spoke firmly; a rhetorical question, obviously. "Your stunt during our match with the Lions wasn't accidental. Everyone saw it, you moron! If you'd actually hurt your teammate with that inane headbutt, not only would you've been off my team that very second, you'd probably have been suspended too!"
"You still on about that? Goddammit, that was-"
"I'm not finished!" Coach interrupted, standing up from his seat and slamming his hands on his desk. "I've let that one slide out of respect for your abilities, because you're a damn good quarterback, but I have no place for a child in my team. You're off, Rick." He sat back down.
Rick snorted loudly. "One thing you got right: I am a damn good quarterback! I'd like to see you win this year without me."
"Yeah, you are a good quarterback," Coach said, "but you're not the only one, and if you'd just leave, I'll start instructing Mr. Son here on how to take your place."
Gohan did a double take at that. "Me?" His answer came only in the form of a curt nod. Quarterback, huh? Calling the shots instead of running the field. Well, if that's where the team needed him...
"Him?" Rick almost squealed. "You're as retarded as he is if you think he's quarterback material! Hell, you should put him cleaning the toilets or something, 'cause that's the only thing he'd be good at!"
"Get out," Coach demanded, repeating his order a little louder when the other didn't comply. "Get out, Rick!"
In a jump, the former-Tiger stood up, staring at the coach with a murderous glaze in his eyes, and then at Gohan. He simply met his gaze, not one to be intimidated. If the stupid little voice in his head insisted on telling him of his abnormality, then he would damn well embrace it when it came to this scumbag. He'd met scarier house plants than him, and even knew of a frog that could probably kick his ass if he'd really push its buttons. Or at least switch bodies with him… He really didn't want to wish Rick such an awful fate, but it was difficult not to.
All in all, he'd seen more bloodshed and carnage than any kid - any-one - should ever have to, but if it'd gave him anything other than his nightmares, it'd given him his courage, and he was damn well proud of it.
After a moment, Rick grunted loudly and kicked his chair away to the wall, exiting furiously without any other word. That was not very paragon of him… Gohan slowly stood up in the silence - sweet, sweet silence - grabbing the chair and carefully placing it back in its place.
Coach Leon took a deep, calming breath then. "He's right, you know? Our chances are substantially reduced without him on the team. He was extremely good at acting under pressure."
"A spartan soldier never gives up, Sir," he found himself saying. It sounded so much cooler in his head, though…
At least it made the man chuckle, and then his head shook, a hand trying to rub away the tiredness but it didn't seem to be working. Somehow it made him feel guilty about what'd happened, because he was pretty sure this kind of issues didn't exist among the team before he'd joined a few months ago. Personal issues that should've had nothing to do with Coach, and yet they were affecting him directly via the tension in his team. Or via the loss of a pretty good quarterback, as it turned out.
"I'm sorry if I've caused this in any way, Sir," he told the man, thankful that said man was looking out the window, since it meant he could look down to his hands himself, seeking some comfort. "I should've tried to make peace or something." Not that Rick would've taken the offering, of course.
"Don't torture yourself with other people's doings," Coach said. "You'll sleep better at night."
He tried not to snicker. Piccolo had always told him exactly the same thing, only in different words. "You didn't throw Cell that Senzu Bean. You didn't take him away with Instant Transmission. You didn't refuse to be wished back to life." Not wanting to be rude, he forced out a petite smile.
"And anyway," the older man continued, "the girl looked truly happy with her decision, so... you don't seem to be at fault."
That might be so, but if he hadn't butted in… Well, if he hadn't butted in, Vi would've been hurt, physically and most likely psychologically. She'd been caught off guard, that night, so if he hadn't stopped the slap Rick was aiming at her, it surely would've hit its target. Just the thought of it made his stomach churn…
"Is she?" Coach asked.
"Huh?"
"Happy. Is she?"
"Umm… I think so." Don't be stupid, he told himself. She'd been miserable those last few weeks before breaking things off with Rick, even if she hadn't shown it externally too much. "Yes, definitely." Happi-er at least.
Coach Leon nodded, leaning back onto his seat. "Is she your girlfriend yet?"
That word made his eyes stretch painfully, his cheeks to catch fire. "W-What?"
The older man chuckled. "Oh, come on. I was young once too, ya know? The way you two look at each other, I could damn well poke the romance with a stick at how palpable it was."
"Umm..." Was it really that obvious? After what'd happened on Valentine's day, it'd be a big fat blatant lie to say he didn't like Videl, of course, but he didn't want to have it advertised to the whole world either. Did Sharpner notice it too? And Erasa? How was he supposed to forget he had these feelings for her when they were so evident even for Coach Leon, a man he'd only see twice a week for a few hours at most? "It's... complicated," he eventually managed to say.
"Love always is," Coach responded immediately. "That's what gives it worth. Climbing the Kilimanjaro isn't exactly the same as climbing a rock, is it?"
Gohan smiled shyly, his eyes anchored to his hands. "I just wished the climb wasn't so treacherous," he whispered, mostly to himself.
"It'd be too easy if everyone could just fly up there."
He chuckled. Admittedly not everyone could. "Yeah, I guess."
There was silence for a moment after that, earlier speeches of valor and how a man always looked another man in the eyes shot to the side with the weight of his internal struggle. Hypocrite much? But then again, Vi had always made him feel completely himself while still totally out of character, so...
"How old are you?" Coach asked then. "Eighteen?"
Gohan nodded silently, trying his mightiest to look up from his hands.
"You seem older," the man said solely. Did he? He'd never thought of that, but given all the crap he'd went through in the past, he was probably at least in his seventies by now. "I have a feeling you already know this, but I'm gonna tell you all the same," he added after a while. "Life's a bitch, Son." Coach Leon's vocabulary had always been colorful, but it still caught him by surprise, that statement. "So if it gives you something, just... take it. Take it and don't look back."
He allowed a moment for the statement to hang around them, but eventually said lowly, "It's not a gift," regretting the words the second they left his lips. Personal opinions on life could be seen as coming from experience, and even if that was the truth for him, other people shouldn't be aware of how much he had suffered in the past. They'd wonder how a man so young could already be so worn out by his years.
"What do you mean?"
And yet, his lips kept moving, talking. "When life gives you something, it's never a gift, it's just a loan." That was it; he wouldn't say anything more about the subject.
"I don't know about you," Coach said after a moment, "but I'd rather live for a minute than be dead my whole life."
Live for a minute… Dead my whole life… It couldn't be so simple, either one or the other. How about all the psychological scars after that minute were to pass? How about the paralyzing fear of knowing that minute would never repeat itself ever again? It was easier to live - really live, feel whole and happy - for one single minute if you actually died in the end, unable to feel the side-effects and repercussions after the time had passed, but that wasn't how it worked.
Memories hurt. Wishful thinking hurt even more. Wishing for memories to become real again…
It was rude not to respond, but it was even ruder to tell him he was wrong. Being dead hurt less than living and losing. In the end, he just kept silent, so after a while, the older man continued to say, "Look, I can't tell you how to live your life, and I don't know what kind of shit you've been through that made you so jaded while still so young, but I've seen a lot of the world, Kid, and one thing I've learned is that the whole mumbo-jumbo about making lemonade is the best piece of advice you could ever follow."
Making lemonade? Oh, he must mean the proverbial phrase, "If life gives you lemons, make lemonade." Yeah, he called that surviving, tangy and sugarless.
The big padded chair creaked as Coach reclined it back, looking out the window again. "There's this awful joke about a super-religious man that got caught in a flood. A boat came along to try and rescue him, but the man sent it away, saying he'd be fine and that God would provide for him. Another boat and a helicopter came next, and he said the very same thing, 'I don't need your help. God will provide.' The man died in the flood and went to talk to God, all pissed off because He hadn't saved him, and God just answered, 'I sent you two fucking boats and a helicopter. What more did you want?'"
Gohan smiled shyly at the cautionary tale, trying to recall where he'd heard it before. Probably from Yamcha, the man of a thousand lame jokes. Then Coach Leon sat up straight again, leaning on his elbows over his desk in a serious manner. "Life provides but you can't just wait for it to hand things over. Sure there are some lucky sons of bitches out there who are that fortunate, but most of the times, you're the one who has to make yourself happy. You have to adapt. Evolve, in a way. Choose to take that minute and live every second like it was the last damn one."
"Until the 'last damn one' actually comes," he whispered. "It's not worth it."
"What's the girl's name?"
His eyes expanded at the surprising question. "Huh… V-Videl."
"Is Videl not worth it?"
He could only stare at the man, throwing the words around his head in an echo. Was Videl not worth living for? Or rather… was Videl not worth dying for? Was a minute with her not worth the rest of his life in misery?
"You might think you'll regret choosing that minute instead of staying put," Coach went on to say, getting up from his chair and stepping around the desk to stand by his side, "and believe me, I know it's scary to make that leap of faith and just go for it, but you'll live the rest of your life regretting the day you let that minute go even more." A second of silence, and then he felt the man's hand on his shoulder. "Now get the hell out of my office. Go get some rest." Coach walked out the door, the rubber soles of his sneakers screeching against the polished pavement outside his office. "And go kiss that girl, for Christ's sake. You know you want to."
He actually snickered at that, despite the mess inside his head.
You have no idea.
The day was bright and wonderful, heralding Spring and the precious specks of awakening life it brought along with it. Birds chirping, squirrels sprinting from tree to tree, the first saplings of new beginnings erupting from the ground. The colorful flowers painted a sea of yellow and purple across the peaceful green, and the trees ruffled in a low, resonant music, percussing the melody of Nature's heartbeats. It'd been a long time since Mother Earth had shown herself to him in this manner. Not her fault, though; he just wasn't ready to see her before. Her beauty was soothing and familiar, the smell of home. He took a deep, cleansing breath.
Gohan lay on the grass next to the wide square blanket they'd all occupied during the previous meal, having renounced his position below the protecting shadows of the big pepper tree for the snug embrace of the Sun. There was something about the specific warmth of the non-summery, non-scorching rays of sunshine that felt so amazing against his skin. One of life's simple pleasures.
His eyes closed, he could hear the kids in the distance, running around like the crazy beasts they were and harassing the poor little animals that chose this particular day to leave their Winter shelters. Right to his side, Mom and Bulma sounded cheerful and bright, chatting and laughing about something he'd long stopped paying attention to, though he still made out the words "hunk" and "delicious" from out of the older woman's mouth, instantly deciding to discard the implications. Mia's shriek echoed across the meadow then, indicating that Goten and Trunks had probably found some kind of bug or lizard or worm to inspect a little closer. And to tease her with, of course; poor thing, she hated those.
It was a lazy day. A good day.
"Hey, Gohan." Bulma's voice snapped him out of his daydreaming. Reluctantly, he cracked an eye open and peered towards the two women. "When's your final football match? It's this month, right?"
"Yeah, on the twenty-fifth." Against the Eagles, a team from some college to the North he'd never heard about.
Her blue hair fanning behind her, Bulma returned eyes to his mother, telling her, "See? It's a Saturday."
Gohan's curiosity got the best of him at that. "What's the matter?"
"Your mom was gonna visit your grandpa on the twenty-fifth," the older woman explained. "She thought your game wasn't until next month."
"It's no problem, Honey." Mom added. "I'll just call Papa and reschedule it."
"You don't need to go to my match, Mom. I know you're not that into football, anyway." Not that she hated it, he was sure, but sports other than martial arts weren't really a thing in his family. Well… there was a time where they'd actually sat down for a match or five, usually gathered together with the gang in front of Bulma's big screen TV, but only during a championship final with some team from Satan City or something - Orange Star City, at the time. The Taitans once, he remembered, way before Yamcha signed up with them, and the Dragons too, the local pro-football team. Both him and Dad had even worn the orange jerseys Bulma had gotten them, he recalled. He wondered what'd happened to those.
"But Bulma says it's a big one," Mom went on to say, and then looked the other woman. "Isn't it?" Bulma nodded.
Eyes closing shut again, Gohan let his head fall back against his arms, using them as a pillow. "The Capsule Cup's the big one," he told his mother, a cocky smile forming on his lips then. "You can go watch me win that one." Both women giggled.
"So why are we even having the matches if you're already gonna win?" Bulma joked.
"Bread and circuses, of course," he responded softly with an exhale.
"Give the people what they want, huh?"
"Yup."
"How incredibly altruistic of you," she said. He could hear the big amused grin on her face, and matched it with one of his own as a response, letting their giggles warm him right along with the sun. How long had it been since he'd managed to feel so relaxed? Too long, basically.
And then, with no warning whatsoever, a foreign pressure on his stomach forced all the air out of his lungs, right along with a big huff. "Hey, Big Brother!" he heard the very next second, just as his eyes managed to open up from the shock.
Goodness… Goten kept getting bigger with every day that passed - of that he knew - but it was in moments like this he'd notice the true extent of his growth. Having an overly-energetic little monkey jumping up and down on top of him was something that the older Saiyan was more than accustomed to, but as time went by and the monkey turned more and more into a gorilla, his abs would almost always lose the fight.
Trunks and Mia reached around the two brothers, one on each side, kneeling over and matching the youngest Son's wide grin and sparkly eyes. Gohan managed to sit up, albeit arduously, shifting his ecstatic sibling over to his lap, and Goten wasted no time in getting on to most pressing matters. "Look, Big Brother! We caught this!" Small yet strong hands, previously cupped against each other, opened up a bit to reveal some sort of critter - a lizard maybe? - colored in black and yellow. Lowering his tone to serious, Goten then added, "I think it's a frog, but Trunks says it's a lizard. It's not a lizard is it?"
"Of course it is, Dummy!" Trunks injected. "It has a tail and everything!"
"You know we don't use those words, Trunks," Gohan told the boy. His words were stern yet gentle, since he knew the little Prince wasn't prone to name calling like that; it'd just been one of those "in the heat of the moment" things, he was sure.
"I'm sorry." the boy said, a hand behind his head that made Gohan smile. Goten would use that particular gesture often too, but with his Buddy he could blame the genes they'd both inherited from their father. Trunks didn't have that blood connection; it was probably from seeing the older Saiyan use it so much.
"It's okay," Gohan said, shifting his attention to the slimy fellow in his brother's hands, carefully picking it up and caging it between his fingers. He smiled then. "You know what? You're both kinda right."
"We are?" Both Goten and Trunks spoke in unison.
"Yeah. This is a salamander. Physically it's like a lizard, but it's an amphibious like a frog." He considered telling them about its ability to regenerate limbs and tissue, but that could only bring dreadful consequences for the poor animal if the boys ever decided to experiment on that fact.
"What does hamf... unphipioos mean?" Mia asked.
"Amphibious," he said. "Repeat after me. Am... phi... bi... ous. 'Amphi' means 'on both sides', and 'bios' means 'life'. So it's a creature that can live on both sides, both on land and in water. Like frogs, toads, newts. And salamanders."
"Cool..." was the overall response from all three, and then Trunks continued, addressing mainly his best friend, still sitting on Gohan's lap. "So that means that if we put it underwater... it won't drown."
"Well, that's not..." Gohan started to say but interrupted himself when the only thing left of the two boys and the kidnapped salamander were their loud cries of happiness, echoing across the meadow. For a second, he prayed for the little animal's well being, but then just chuckled and let himself fall back to the ground, arms pillowing his head.
Looking up at his sister, he smiled, extending his arm outwards in an unspoken invitation that she'd join him. She did, lying down on her side next to him and resting her head on his chest. Lovingly, he started caressing her long hair, brushing it back away from her face. It was so soft and strong at the same time. Pitch black as the Son name would have it.
His smile slowly evaporated then. Soft and long and black. Like Vi's...
Videl was never very far from his mind at any given moment, and by now he knew fully well that even the smallest things could be precursors of her attendance back in his thoughts. As the days went by, he'd hoped it would be getting easier, letting her go, but he'd only been fooling himself. It wasn't. It made it so much worse.
There was something that kept drawing him in to her, and he considered it being the attraction he no longer denied feeling for her that forced her presence on him. Undoubtedly, her beauty alone was enough to bring a man to his knees, pleading for her favor, but it wasn't the case simply because her physical perfection was not what he longed for. Not solely, anyway.
It was... her. Talking to her, laughing with her, smelling her, touching her. Her happiness made him feel whole and her safety was his primary concern. Every time his brain drifted back to her, something inside him beamed and died at the same time. Butterflies in his stomach and a knot in his throat. It made him sigh.
Would he ever be able to feel nothing again? Numbness was easier to deal with.
"Is everything okay?" his sister asked, almost in a whisper, eyes closed and drinking the sun in.
"Yeah," he responded, but then his eyebrows tilted down just a bit. "Why do you ask?"
There was a moment of hesitance, but she eventually said, "You sigh a lot, nowadays."
"I... do?" Only Videl, he thought. Only her would make him let his guard down like this, creating such innate reactions from his body. Another sigh stubbornly wanted to leave him, but he quickly suppressed it.
"Yes, you do." Mia shifted a bit around him to look up at his face. "I know something's been bothering you," she said. "You're not sick or anything are you?" A delicate hand covered his forehead, as if searching for a fever.
Gohan chuckled. "No, I'm not sick." To reassure her, he leaned up a bit to kiss her own forehead. Just like he often did to... "Everything's okay, Pumpkin. I promise."
His little sister returned her head back down and produced a sigh of her own. "You know you can trust me, right?"
"I do trust you," Gohan responded immediately. There could be no room for that kind of doubt in her mind. Gently, with the arm he had wrapped around her, he reached for her jaw and brought her big black eyes back up to his. "I do trust you," he repeated, softer this time. "Do you really think I would've left for college if you weren't there to take over for me?" A playful smile signed off on his words.
Mia chuckled. "I thought Goten was the man of the house now. Wasn't that what you told him?"
"He is the man of the house," he said, returning his face upwards and reassuming his sunbathing, eyes closed. "That doesn't mean he's in charge." The smile turned more of a smirk.
The little girl giggled, also returning to her previous position, cheek on his chest. "I don't think he knows that. I can't remember how many times he tried to win an argument or have his way by saying 'because I'm the man of the house'."
"He did not!" he almost shouted. "Are you serious?"
"Yeah. Then he gets really annoyed when Mom and me just..."
"Mom and I," he interrupted to correct
"When Mom and I just smile back at him. We can't help it! He's so adorable."
"That he is." The most adorable little man in the universe, he was sure. With a grin that could melt hearts and a laughter that could revive the dead. He loved his Buddy.
A harsher breeze brought the remainders of Winter, reminding them the season hadn't quite shifted to Spring just yet, despite the sun. Mia shivered from the temperature change, and instinctively, he hugged her tighter, relinquishing the comfort of the arm behind his head for the protection of her uncovered one circling his chest. He considered leaving the meadow altogether, packing things up and go home with worries of colds and other illnesses, but the boys sounded so happy in the distance, Mom and Bulma so cheery by his side… And this moment alone with his sister was just too precious and rare.
Her teenage years were soon upon them, and if he remembered correctly, hormones were a bitch! Who knew if he'd be able to have much more of these hugs, sprawled across the grass with her on his side? He embraced her even tighter, silently thanking her Saiyan heritage for the added resistance that meant he wouldn't crush her with the gesture. If the gods were good, he'd have at least a couple more years of her being a child. Now he silently cursed the very same Saiyan heritage for making her mature faster than human children.
Well, you win some, you lose some, as the saying went. Hopefully, both her and the boys wouldn't change too much.
"I love you, Gohan," his sister said then.
It made him smile. "I love you too, Pumpkin."
Gohan glanced at his wristwatch, the streetlights shining against its glass as he picked up the pace. You told them you'd be late, he kept reminding himself, but despite his best efforts, his gut was still heavy from the anxiety. If Sharp had booked a table at the restaurant for ten minutes ago, he should've been here ten minutes ago, at that's that.
Okay, but he was here now. Everything was fine now. Trying to calm his nerves, he took a deep breath.
Today was a special day, Sharp's twentieth birthday, and he was actually pretty excited about it, since he'd come up with the most amazing gift for the martial arts enthusiast he shared a room with. It was brilliant! As the weeks went by, he'd nearly fallen victim of a stress-induced aneurism when analyzing the options, because the guy simply liked everything. Sports, movies, gadgets, you name it. Almost giving up, Gohan considered the latest release of some impersonal videogame, but then it hit him like a freight train from Obvious-ville. Something he just had lying around the house. And it was perfect!
Stopping when he arrived by the glass door of Spacey's restaurant, he took the long handle and held it open for a middle-aged couple before following them inside. It was warm and cozy in there, an ample room almost at full capacity, buzzing with chatter and silverware clinking against ceramic plates. Not a second later, he spotted Erasa in the distance, thin arms waving furiously for his attention from a table up ahead. The sight engaged his smile as he walked over. "Hey, guys," he told his friends. "Sorry I'm late."
"No problem, Sweetie," the blond girl reassured him. "We just sat down." As he heard her speak, his brain on autopilot, he leaned in to peck Videl's cheek just like he usually would, only after the deed was done feeling the just as usual jitters the action would impose on him nowadays. Acting like it had been nothing to it, like his chest wasn't exploding from the distress, he scooted behind her to take the seat to her left, just across the table from the birthday-boy himself. The package he'd been carrying was placed atop his empty plate so he could remove his jacket properly.
"Is that for me?" Sharpner beamed like a little kid, pointing both his index fingers at the flat box.
"Oh, this?" Gohan said. "Nah, it's for the cook. It's his birthday today."
The blond's expression turned wry, but it only lasted for a couple of seconds, since the girls couldn't hold on to their laughter. Gohan grinned, handing him the present. "Happy birthday, Man."
His roommate's eyes widened immensely, busy fingers fast on removing the red bow and silver wrapping paper, discarding them to the side. Gohan could only smile as curiosity caused blond eyebrows to scrunch in, not recognizing immediately what the thin paper box contained. He wouldn't, given how rare the items it held.
Carefully, the lid was removed, and Sharp's jaw just dropped at what his eyes were seeing. "Oh... my... God." One would think he'd gifted the guy with the Holy Grail with how delicately he took out the first sheet of stack. His eyes didn't want to leave the photograph in his hands, but eventually managed to return to Gohan, though just for a second. "How the hell... did you get these? They're like… a million zeni each online."
"They are?" he teased. True he had never investigated how much they were worth, but he couldn't see himself selling them, to be honest. It was one of those things that had a value greater than monetary, and he knew they'd have a good home in Sharpner's hands.
Even though they were big and of glossy high-quality, the three photos had never held too much importance to his family, other than the fact it was probably the only place that ever sported his father's autograph - more of a crooked scribble, in his opinion. The man had probably never signed a thing in his life other than those photos, celebrating his victory of the twenty-third World Martial Arts Tournament.
They had another copy of that one in a random drawer at home - a cool memento of their father - though not of the other two, but that wasn't a big deal, since they weren't as important as Dad's of course. Tien's from the twenty-second tournament had an even weirder signature, and Master Roshi's from the twenty-first was essentially a fake, as was his persona Jackie Chun.
Mom had told him how it was standard procedure for all the participants that'd make it through the elimination matches to have their pictures taken. That way, they'd have a handful of copies all ready by the time a champion was decided so that he or she could sign them for that edition's contestants and a very short selection of influential people. Dad's were only available like a year or so later, though, since the people from the tournament had to track him down to get him to sign the things.
Since his father was runner-up on the first two championships, and his mother quarter-finalist of the last one, they had one of each from Tien and Jackie Chun, and two from Dad in a random drawer back home. Hopefully, one of those would be replacing Mr. Satan's picture Sharp kept back at their dorm room. It was just creepy to have the man stare back at him like that, all day, every day.
After realizing what Sharpner was looking at, Videl got up to stand behind him, her lips gapped as widely as both their blond friends'. "Where did you find these?" she asked. "Not even my dad has them."
He looked down at his plate then. Long and hard had he mulled over the consequences of what he was about to tell them, but ultimately decided he had no reason to hide that piece of information. Truth be told, it was probably because being his father's son was the thing he was most proud about himself. Anyway, there was no backing down now. "He's my dad," he said solely.
For a moment, his friends just stared at him, but soon looked down at the three photos again. It wasn't rocket science to realize what he was talking about: Tien had three eyes, and Jackie Chun was evidently too old to be his father, though that wouldn't even be of importance if they paid enough attention. When they were to analyse the three photos a little more carefully, he was sure they'd see the resemblances between him and his father, even more so considering he was the same age now as Dad was in those pictures. Change the hair and there you had them, one and the same.
The three of them kept shifting gazes between the pictures and him, to which he responded only with a shy smile. After a while, Sharp was the one speaking what he was sure they all were thinking, a statement more than a question. "Goku Son. The Goku Son… is your father."
The Goku, he repeated in his head, the definite article making him snicker. Dad might have been a no-one for the common public but in the martial arts world he was kind of a legend. Youngest competitor to make it to the finals, two times runner-up, and finally champion. Oh, and half the reason the tournament had been forced into an hiatus after he won, of course, although he was mostly sure that Piccolo - meaning Ma Junior - would claim the feat to be his own doing. Solely.
Erasa's hands clapped when she slapped them together in front of her chest, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "Is it true that your father got married to your mother right there on the ring? After he won their match?"
Gohan chuckled. Erasa didn't care particularly about the sport, but being Videl's best friend and Sharpner's girlfriend, arguably the two biggest fans of the art, that part of the story was destined to be the one she'd remember. "Just engaged," he explained. "They got married afterwards."
"Oh, my God, that's so romantic!"
Videl returned to her seat, her lips still parted, her eyes still completely dumbstruck. "I can't believe your dad was champion before mine. Why didn't you mention this before?"
He shrugged a shoulder, averting his eyes from hers. "I just... I don't like talking about him."
There was silence after that, but not two seconds later, Vi was hugging him gently around the neck. It was a gesture of friendship, he kept telling himself, nothing else. They all knew his father had died during the Cell Games - though that was about all he told them about it - so this was her way of saying everything was going to be okay. Just a friendly hug. Vi had always been a hugger.
He couldn't bare to be reminded it had anything more than friendship attached.
She released her grip when Sharp spoke, almost in a whisper, "Well, that explains your body."
"My… body?" Gohan repeated.
"Yeah, being the son of a WMA champ, I mean," he started to explain. "'Cause, I know I'm fit and all, but you're just plain ridiculous!"
"He is?" Erasa asked. Squealed, rather.
"You could wash your fucking clothes with his abs!"
"Do I have to start covering myself around you?" Gohan said as if he were teasing but was actually too damn uncomfortable with that particular subject. He'd never been ashamed of his body, but he also didn't want to go around showing it off to people either. Since he lived on campus, he'd rather take showers at home two minutes away than in the locker rooms after football practice, so the only one who'd ever seen him without a shirt - outside of family and the Z crew - was his roommate. Thankfully, the blond had bought his excuse about being a rowdy kid growing up as an explanation for the scars on his skin. It wasn't a complete lie...
"Okay, now I wanna see them," Videl blurted out, followed suit by Erasa's over-excited nod.
"See... what?" he asked warily.
"Your abs, of course," she said. "Can't just believe the hearsay."
"I'm not going to show you my abs in a damn restaurant!"
"Oh, come on," Videl insisted. "You just have to lift your shirt up a little." She tried to do it herself but he pushed her hands back.
"No! Do I need to call an adult?" Again, it wasn't totally a joke.
"I am an adult," she deadpanned back, making their blond friends chuckle.
"Fine!" Better to get it over with, lest she'd try to have herself a peek again while he was eating. Goddammit, Sharpner… Why did he have to bring it up? A tiny little second, he grabbed the hem of his t-shirt, lifted it up and then immediately back down.
Videl's lips gapped even more than before with the photos, not adding any words to the gesture. Erasa wasn't as courteous, though. "Damn..."
"See, I told ya," her boyfriend said. "A damn washboard."
"Can we eat now?" Gohan injected then, trying to steer the conversation the farthest away from him as possible. Or at least the farthest away from his body. Harshly he took one of the menus and searched around the room for the guys in black uniform he'd spotted coming in. "Where's the damn waiter?"
His friends just laughed it off, thankfully. Like his father, being the center of attention was not something he craved, but unlike Dad, Gohan fled from it like the plague in any way he could. Never would he go around showing off his strength to his adversaries, or attempting extreme measures just to win the title of the World Martial Arts champion. He'd always known he'd been cast from a different mold than his father. It both relieved and destroyed him.
An undying joy in life, a resolute optimism. Strength, not only physical but also psychological. Once upon a time he had those too, but he could never attain them on his own. Not without his father.
Never again without his father.
The sound of waves crashing on the beach beside them mingled with their laughs, the four of them strolling lazily along the sidewalk towards their favorite bar for a final birthday drink before heading home.
Looking at his three friends walking in front of him, hearing them joke around about some ridiculous show on cable TV with an even more ridiculous name - Tattooed Teenage Alien Fighters from Beverly Hills, or something in those lines - Gohan had never felt more blessed to have them in his life, and their reaction to his announcement about his father was just one of many reasons. They could've asked him about Dad, if they had trained together back when he was alive, about how he died, but they hadn't because he'd told them he didn't like to talk about him. As simple as that. Contrary to one's family, friends were a choice, and his hit the jackpot, as far as he was concerned.
His eyes focused on Videl for a moment, on her hair, her back, her legs. And yes, her lovely round ass too, as much as he tried not to. Even in plain dark jeans and simple knit top, she looked so beautiful he was having a hard time not letting his mind shift to her. The clear lip gloss twinkled from the city lights as she talked, and his will faltered when he tried not to count the days since he'd last touched them with his.
Unfortunately, he hadn't been able to push her away from one or two shy little kisses since their movie night, and every time, the proximity alone had been enough to weaken his body to a point where he just couldn't force the deceit out of his mouth, letting her know that he didn't want her delicious gift. He'd tried his mightiest - he did! - but her pure blue eyes had always cleansed him from all things evil; he just couldn't bring himself to lie to them.
As much as she empowered him with the feelings she evoked, she weakened him into submission to them. Hopefully it'd get easier. Hopefully her spell would eventually stop working on him. Hopefully...
Suddenly, Videl looked back to him, smiling so incredibly warmly over her shoulder. He felt the hot blush take over his cheeks for getting caught staring and tried mirroring her action in response. How did she always seem to know when he was thinking about her? Always noticing his gaze or detecting his musings.
She loved it, catching him off guard, he could tell. Damn her.
"Well, if it isn't the scum of the Earth," a familiar voice shouted then.
They all looked up in surprise, only to replace it with scorn. Rick and his regular possy of two approached them along the sidewalk, armed with those irritant smirks that characterized their leader. Both his three friends stopped walking immediately, but Gohan allowed a couple more steps so as to stand in front of the girls.
"Hey, Babe," Rick continued to say, those impudent eyes locked on his ex-girlfriend way too tightly. "Miss me already?"
Vi snorted. "Just as much as the ocean misses salt." It made Gohan's lips curve up in amusement.
"Bitchy as always, aren't we?"
Then, unexpectedly, Erasa stomped up to the guy, shouting, "Leave her alone, Rick! She doesn't want anything else to do with you! Just go away!"
Without too much effort, he shoved her aside into a stumble and a shriek. Sharpner reacted by lunging at the guy, only to be stopped by Gohan's hand on his chest after one single step. Instinctively, Gohan kept his glare on their attacker, a lesson he'd learn and perfected long ago. "Don't," he spoke firmly to his roommate, deeply.
From the corner of his eyes, he could see Sharp just staring at him for a moment, but then he mimicked his own glare towards Rick, growling lowly, "He pushed my girlfriend."
"I know," he told him in the very same tone, but just like the blond had once told him when Videl went alone to talk to her ex after their Thanksgiving dinner, nothing good would come from a fight in a public place. After a moment, he spoke again. "Walk away, Rick."
The guy snorted loudly. "Or what?"
The silence cut like a knife, every second slicing deeper into the tension, the waves crashing in the background now sounding more like the ticking timer of a bomb. Gohan's mind raced through the options, the pros and the cons, the rational, the foolish, the desired. There wasn't a fiber in his body that didn't beg for a punch to that insufferable face, to send Ricky-boy flying somewhere and to break that fucking smirk off his mouth. His right hand fisted on its own, preparing for the outcome of those desires and earning for the release it would bring.
But he couldn't. Not without unwanted consequences. Not without stooping to his level or even below that, since with greater power came the greater responsibility of keeping it contained. Ultimately, he chose the path of avoidance, even though his hand didn't agree with the decision, still tense and fisted, but when he opened his mouth to answer something pacific, some movement from behind interrupted him.
Videl walked by between him and Sharp, stopping a few steps between them and her ex. She then took off both of her flat dress shoes and violently threw them to the half-wall that separated the sidewalk from the sand. "Or I'll kick your fucking ass, Rick," she spoke, the calmness only in her voice because he could swear she was fuming.
Rick and his buddies laughed disrespectfully, mocking her like she was just an adorable little girl trying to play battle with them. "You and what army?"
And that was his cue. He wasn't going to fight the guy simply because he wasn't sure he could manage not to kill him, but there was no way in hell he'd let Videl on her own against him. An army would cower in fear of his mere presence, so he'd be more than enough, he reckoned. Only one step towards Videl, her voice glued him to his place. "Just me... Gohan." She didn't look back at him, but she must've known he wouldn't stay still after a dare like that.
"Oh, yeah?" Rick cackled. "Let's take it to the sand then." And without waiting for feedback, he did just that.
To the sand? Was he actually wanting to fight Vi? Because one thing was to throw words around to act tough, but another one entirely was to put physical strength behind them. Videl started walking to follow the guy and his goons, but he rushed to pull her back by the arm. "Vi, you don't have to do this."
He was probably too worried about this, since she was Mr. Satan's daughter, she probably knew how to fight way better than the average person, but she could get hurt. That smile… that one right now, so sweet and warm… Just the thought of seeing any blood marring it, any cut, any bruise… No, she couldn't. "I do," she said, a hand sliding along his jaw, a thumb gently stroking his cheek. "I'll beat that smirk off his face. For the both of us."
For a moment, he actually felt aroused to hear her say that, to imagine her punching that asshole until he was kneeling and begging for mercy, but it evaporated as soon as she started walking again towards the sand, quickly shadowed by their two blond friends. He simply watched her go, rooted to his place on the sidewalk by some overpowering feeling he'd never experienced before. Was this how his mother felt all the time? Whenever him and his father would go to God-knows-where to fight? Pride and fear? Respect and anxiety? He knew he could protect Videl if Rick managed to get the upper hand and really tried to hurt her, but his mom…? She was strong, but not nearly strong enough to cast any kind of physical protection on him or Dad.
It made him feel heavy inside, his chest hurting with the suffering Mom had gone through all these years, way before Dad ever died, but he had to push it aside for now. Even if Vi refused his help, he'd still be there to offer it. Or to enforce it, rather, whether she liked it or not.
A little into the wavy bank, sheltered by a couple of dunes, Videl was already in stance - a damn near flawless one, impressively, apart from a couple of blemishes here and there - while Rick lazily stretched up next to his buddies, taunting her. "You sure you wanna do this, Babe? I wouldn't want you to break a nail or something." Another insolent cackle. He kept telling himself to let Vi do the punching, but as strong as she might've been, it wouldn't be nearly enough of what the bastard deserved.
And then, a powerful cry from Videl and a roundhouse kick to his infuriating mug sent Rick flying to the ground. It made him grin, though just for a moment. He was just as happy as his two blond friends, cheering loudly at the achievement, but it didn't feel quite... right.
He'd grown up knowing no other type of woman other than "strong" - even though Mom had hid that side of her ever since Dad died - but seeing Videl fighting her own battle was filling him with different kinds of emotions that he could only attribute to the immiscible ancestries running through his veins. On one hand, his human side understood her need to stand up for herself and applauded it, but on the other, his inner-Saiyan told him he should be the one doing the fighting so she wouldn't get hurt. It was his duty to protect her, to clear the threat.
It felt like failure.
Rick stood up in anger - too much anger, all over the place - charging at her with a potent fist from his dominant left that she dodged and pushed aside in one swift move. It made him flounder a bit, as expected. A loud growl and another angry lash-out ensued. Right. Left. Right. Every punch a dud, expertly deflected with a level of skill Gohan didn't expect from his friend, but then again, Rick was too worked up to focus properly anyway. A final side-step from Vi accommodated a hook to his ribs and a punch to his face. A direct hit, but Rick was a little more competent than he'd given him credit for, apparently, rolling around himself and elbowing Videl right in the gut.
It took the air out of his lungs to watch the hit. It took all of his strength to not kill that worm, that asshole that had hurt his… his…
Breathe. Calm down. Focus.
Videl did not fall from the blow, and he held on to that to keep his emotions in check. She was good. She was a good fighter, and this was her battle. His battles were his, and hers were hers; he had to respect that, as much as it hurt him.
A low kick was next but Videl blocked it, stopping his leg with both hands, the sheer force of the impact rippling her flesh all the way up to her shoulders. Damn… Too focused on stopping the impact, she didn't notice it was a feint until it was too late. Piccolo would've beat him up for that. It left her exposed to a sucker punch to the face that knocked her down to the floor. And then the asshole cackled triumphantly again.
Breathe. Calm down. Focus.
As quickly as she fell, Videl was standing up again, and again he held on to that small victory. She defended a high punch with her left arm before piercing her opponent with a right long-fist to the gut. He hunched down in reaction to the blow, and Gohan's eyes stretched minutely, hoping, praying, screaming in his head that she'd see that break, that opportunity he was seeing. And she did, which made him smile deeply. In one final resolution, Videl summoned all of her strength into an elbow strike to the back of the guy's neck, bringing him all the way to his hands and knees, gasping sharply and loudly.
That's my girl.
Not letting down her guard, Videl walked back a couple of steps to the sound of Erasa's cheers and Sharp's clapping. Though panting lightly, her tone was solemn when she asked, "Is this enough? Will you leave me and my friends alone?"
Rick was breathing heavily - much more than her, he mused - appearing to consider his options, but… No, it didn't feel right. It wasn't right.
It took him a moment to look back at Vi and realize with dread that she had relaxed the tiniest bit. No, no, no, she couldn't. It wasn't over yet. And then, in one lightning-fast movement, Rick's arm shot up and projected a handful of sand into her eyes before she was able to protect them. She yelped in pain and stepped back, losing her balance. In a heartbeat, Gohan was by her side, sitting her down on the ground
It all went black from there.
He noticed Erasa by his side, helping Vi as much as she could by clearing out the sand. He heard Rick huff as if pushed, and Sharp shouting something about "cheap tricks". He was aware of all that, but paid attention to nothing, standing back up and turning towards where that bastard was.
He was breathing. He was calm. He was focused. But that bastard was still going to die.
As Gohan stepped slowly their way, the guy yelled at Sharpner, attempting a wide haymaker which his roommate dodged effortlessly, following it by a well-placed uppercut to the jaw that unfortunately wasn't strong enough to shatter Rick's teeth. He'd make sure to rectify that.
Step after step, they didn't even notice he was near them until Rick sent a jab right to the blond's face. One which Sharpner evaded by side-stepping to the side. One which Gohan stopped with his palm.
He was breathing. He was calm. He was focused. But that bastard was still going to suffer.
Rick removed his closed fist from his hand. Gohan let it go, reasoning that he could break all its bones later on. Or at least the ones that hadn't been broken with that impact. "Shit," the maggot said, holding the hand Gohan had stopped with his other one. "Are you made of fucking steel of something?"
He didn't respond. Breathing. Calm. Focused. That bastard was going to pay.
"Sharp, go get the car. Take the girls," he told his roommate, eyes not leaving Rick's for one second.
"G...? Are you… sure?"
Again, he didn't respond. Darkness enveloped him. His muscles fired up. That bastard…
He assumed Sharp had left but didn't care to make sure, relishing in the way Rick was shaking and stumbling back to his friends, away from him. He gave a step towards the group. "I warned you," he told the bastard, a whisper mostly.
"W-What?" Slowly, Rick gave another shaky step back.
Gohan mirrored it, his prey's neck now close enough to break under his grip, but he fought the urge. "I told you to leave her alone," he said. "I told you I would find you."
Such a precarious thing, friendship. At least the fake kind, because his buddies behind him didn't seem all that supportive of Ricky-boy. "F-Fuck you," the bastard stuttered. So deliciously. "A-Anyone can make empty threats."
Gohan's laughter might've sounded misplaced in the tense atmosphere, but it came right from his core. Who knew this one was a comedian? Such a shame… "Empty?" he thundered. One final step. "I have seen and fought against evils so much greater than you. I have seen the end of empires, the fall of tyrants, and been the cause of both. I have killed to save lives, and killed for lives I couldn't save, but never have I wanted to kill quite so much as I do right here, right now." He willingly authorized his eyes to turn teal. Their gasps delighted him. "Strike. Two."
A second took place, long and cold. That agony in their eyes… That terror… He couldn't stop his lips from smirking.
Breathing. Calm. Focused. He'd see the bastard in his nightmares.
Gohan turned around and left.
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