The Horse with No Name

"They tried to bury us. They didn't know we were seeds." ― Dinos Christianopoulos

Chapter Fifty-Five

Seeds of Spring I

Cape beating against the wind, a lone figure stands brazen against the backdrop of crushing, white water. Gohan watches him for a short time nearby his waterfall, saying and doing nothing, and in turn, Gohan is not approached. A part of the parcel of being warded is that Gohan cannot in fact hide his energy; and still, his presence remains unacknowledged as though he'd done just that.

Before he's able to feel anything, Gohan returns on heel back to the house.

He'd tried breaking the ward holding hostage but he's terrible at magic. Could he have threatened someone into breaking it for him? Mm, perhaps. There's a witch on Earth, after all. Gohan remembers meeting one when he'd been younger, but he'd doubts that she'll have the power to contest the Kai.

Considering his options is akin to wading through mud. It's a slow, audacious prospect without merit; Gohan feels more trapped the more he dreams of escaping, something which had only been exacerbated when he'd been imprisoned back into a hunk of mortal flesh.

"No Beerus?" Gohan had greeted Whis with cruel joviality, knowing full well how injured Beerus remains from the altercation.

"The Council made the rather wise decision in limiting your and Lord Beerus' contact, but perhaps I could put a request in for you should you like to make amends—"

"Nope."

"Oh, well… I'm sure that one day you and Lord Beerus will come to see eye to eye. Until then…" He'd winked, spinning his ridiculous staff into existence. "Shall we work on creating an appropriate body for someone of your status? I promise it will be far more suitable to your needs than the last go-around."

The experience had been painless in comparison to the first time, and the body had felt and still feels remarkably less uncomfortable than the last. Although Gohan would never admit it, he'd been surprised when Whis, after only several seconds, had whisked his staff away and smiled at him with the satisfaction of a job well done.

Really, just how powerful is he?

"It's easier when I know what to expect," Whis'd revealed, "Unless you have any other surprises for us, Lord Mori?"

Gohan wishes as much but alas no.

"You're still blond," Dad had said an hour later when he'd stumbled across Gohan sulking by the lake. "Your halo's gone though."

Yes, and a percentage of Gohan's power along with it.

The weeks following are a blur of sad happenings, with the outcome resulting in Gohan submitting to his pitiful existence on Earth one dark, muggy evening. Seeing Goten at Fire Mountain had been a bit of a turning point. Neither of them have mentioned what happened but the dynamic between them feels different, liberating even, like it'd once been back before Gohan had died at seventeen and everything had gone to shit. That's perhaps why Goten has been making an effort to be at the family house more often, to bridge the gap, appearing regularly after school with his schoolbag bursting at the seams with books, essays and homework.

Now, Gohan watches as Goten struggles with rudimentary maths, wondering when he'll finally request help; it's a competition of obstinacy, Gohan understands, and one he's not faring so well in because there's only so long he'll be able to watch Goten's chicken scratch bastardise mathematical formulas. Gohan had liked maths in school. He'd enjoyed the simplicity of its one correct answer expectation. Literacy had been more challenging because it'd been complex. The prospects of what's considered right or wrong seemed too subjective, too unreliable, and difficult to pinpoint. Getting 100s had never been guaranteed.

And even now, Gohan still struggles with subjectivism.

"That's a big sigh," Goten says, desperate for distraction from his work. He's peering up from the floor, legs kicking behind him, his books spread-eagled with disgraceful haphazardness. "Wanna' put something else on the TV? I'm not watching it anyway."

A documentary is playing in the background, or at least that's what Gohan thinks it is. It's still so difficult to concentrate. And even more difficult not to be hateful. How wonderful it would feel to take the television and crush it into fragments just because he can. During the earlier weeks, he'd been even more poisonous to be around, overhearing as much one night after a long walk around the lake. Rixas and his dad had been talking in the kitchen, whispering. They'd do it a lot. About Gohan. About Goten. About the gods and the kais and everything else that Gohan had wanted to keep from his father.

"There's no point when he's like this," Rixas had advised in a tone that was supposed to be quiet, "Give him time to come around."

Those passing days had assaulted Gohan in a slow daze. He'd sit in his room mostly, thinking. He's always thought a lot, throughout Revelation and even before that. Now, he'd think about Quell mostly, but he'd also think about Roarg, Doctor Jivel and even of Eyrelle. He'd think of the estate and the traditional winding lanes of the Spire city centre. He'd think about Haed too. Gohan would fall asleep each and every night only after remembering how it'd felt to tear his hands through that man's body.

"You need to eat something," his dad would say, tray in hand. "I know I'm not the best cook but—"

Rixas had been less kind, throwing a protein bar at him. "Eat it and we'll leave you to your misery, you mercurial fuck."

It'd been a fair trade.

Gohan hadn't been the only person to suffer his incarceration on Earth; Rixas had grown increasingly snappier with him. On the subject of upsetting Goten, one of Gohan's bouts of frustration had reared its ugly head and Rixas had reacted appropriately.

"I've been the one here – with him – with your people!" he'd snarled. "I've been watching over them all this time – for you."

"Don't act like they're not yours now."

"Are you jealous?"

"No, I'm not. I don't even want to be here. You can have the earthlings, have all of them for all I care; have Goten, my dad, Trunks, Vegeta even—"

"Mori, despite all the shit you've put these mortals through they still want you home. Don't be such an ungrateful brat. These people—"

"Are not my people," Gohan had attested. "In fact, they're not yours. They're just mortals and we shouldn't even be here, shouldn't have to stay in this fucking house after everything and— and… Quell wouldn't want any of this."

His brother's face contorting into hurt had been gratifying.

"I get it…" Rixas had told him, finally releasing a held breath. "You're punishing yourself. You're turning Quell's boundaries into a weapon to fucking hurt yourself—"

"It's the principle—"

"Of what? A dead person?"

Gohan had turned to ice.

"Quell is dead. He's not calling the shots anymore, Mori," Rixas had sneered with impressive direction. "There's no one here but us. Don't you get it? It's just me and you now—"

"Of course, I get—"

"Then cherish me," he'd stressed, "Value our Connection. We're the last of it. If you throw yourself away out of bitterness and shame then what happens to me? Do you think I'll live for the sake of it? I'm doing this for you, so why can't you try for me?"

Gohan had looked up at the man held together far better than Gohan could even dream of. What'd been Rixas' secret? How the fuck had he been so collected when all Gohan had wanted to do was drown in his own suffering? When Roarg had died Rixas had been broken and Gohan had been the one eager to piece him back together. Now that Quell's dead, Rixas is able to move on – just like that?

It'd only been four months.

"Quell's body is barely cold and you're already moving on without a care in the world, right? It's like you didn't even give a—" Gohan's cheeks had been squeezed between firm fingers, lips forcibly pursed; Rixas above with fury in his expression.

"Don't think I've not suffered," he'd said slowly, "I'd give myself in a heartbeat for him. I'd rather be dead than picking up all these pieces that he's just left for me to deal with. He never told me what to do. He never groomed me to take his place in the Council after his death. He just died, and abandoned me and you and all his obligations with no plan of what comes next."

"It's not his fault—"

"It's yours," Rixas had agreed, "And Haed's and Quell's and Zamasu's. And all those kais who decided to rip Famis away from the Collective. Though, I suppose it's partially Famis' too for marking himself a target. It's also mine for my part, for my anger. It's Goku's too for allowing Majin magic to become involved—

"Don't you get it? It's a melting pot of shit!" he'd snapped, throwing Gohan back, "It's been one thing after another and I'm not contributing to this hatred anymore! Quell just wanted us to live! The moment he allowed vengeance to run away with him is the moment he signed his own death warrant! I get him now, I get that all he wanted was for us to live and we just pushed back—"

"I just wanted to be free!"

"And yet here you are!" he'd shouted, "A prisoner more than ever, and of the Kai at that, all because that's the only way to stop fucking war between them and the other gods!"

"Well, maybe we need—"

"No, we don't! When will it ever be enough for you, Mori? When I'm dead? When Goku's dead?"

Door slamming, he'd left, marking the last full conversation Gohan would have for quite some time.

Rixas hasn't been around much since, occasionally popping by to make sure Gohan's not offed himself, and when he does come by Gohan doesn't feel like much talking to him either.

Time disappears as thin wisps of smoke. How distorting it is, how both lonely and suffocated he feels.

Thursday marks one month since Gohan's imprisonment. The occasion has Dad trying to celebrate it without alerting Gohan to the anniversary. It's a promise; if Dad invites anyone other than Rixas to the house then Gohan really will blow the television up.

Not only is Gohan's mental state a mess but so is his physical. He feels sluggish, fatigued and entirely unkempt in his appearance – though it's hard to care – What's the point? Dark roots are peeking from beneath the blond now, making him look like a slovenly, devil-may-care college kid after a hard semester. Though, the blond is a curiousity; it has Gohan wonder… Are there other implications that Super Saiyan Holy had on his body, other than a bad dye job?

He thinks of the stone often. Of the souls he'd consumed in order to achieve the transformation. He'd told his father of this evil at the earliest opportunity in order to hurt him, since Gohan's self-destructive like that, but Dad had either been unbothered or suddenly an acclaimed actor because he'd said not a word.

What would Gohan have to do in order to push his father away? What's the line? Not even murder, apparently.

When Gohan had first consumed the Sand Stone there'd been a shift in his thought process. Everything had seemed so clear at the time. So straightforward. It'd given him access to power, and it hadn't resulted in him being drunk off of it. Quite the opposite, actually. Gohan had never felt so dedicated to one task before, though that's likely in due to the Almighty's influence too. The perfect concoction. How simple it must have been for Haed to angle Gohan just as he'd liked. Yes. Gohan'd played himself into those grimy hands, and had—

"—han, Gohan!" Gohan jostles when fingers click inches away from his face. "Stop spacing out."

"What?"

"What do you want to watch on the TV?"

"I don't care."

"Slippery Stairs, then?"

Okay, Gohan does care. He takes the remote and switches it to the News.

"God forbid you put something fun on," Goten grumbles, returning to his homework.

This is domesticity. Two brothers lounging in front of the television, arguing about what to watch. It'd been just shy of five months ago that Gohan nearly ended all life.

Funny, that.

When the News coverage shifts to a story about Capsule Corporation, Gohan feels his jaw tighten when Bulma appears, talking to the presenter and looking far more put together than when he'd last seen her.

It'd been last week. He'd been sitting by the lake as usual when he'd heard both Bulma and Trunks approach, voices loud and frightening to all the accumulated birds in the area. Before they'd even fluttered free into the forest, Bulma had advanced on Gohan and struck him with all her might across the face.

It hadn't hurt. Obviously. But Gohan can't say he'd been expecting it that morning.

He'd not said anything because there's little he can say to defend his actions. Gohan's not sorry for achieving Revelation. He'd warned them. Even Trunks.

"Mum!" Trunks had cried out, mortified, as she'd panted feet away, her arm raised and shaking.

"You fucker. How dare you, Gohan? He's just a boy!"

"I want this!"

"Be quiet, Trunks!"

"I'm nearly seventeen! I chose—"

"You didn't choose this. You were forced," Gohan had agreed quietly. "She's right."

"W-Well, I choose this now!"

"You don't even know what you're signing up for."

"And you did?! I didn't hear you complaining when you were gunning for Revelation!"

"That'd been my purpose."

"Does this Almighty turn you all into fanatical morons?" Bulma'd seethed, "Why is he talking like this? Before this, he'd never—"

Trunks' rare fire had turned on her. "You've always encouraged me to be stronger, and I'm doing that now! What more do you want?"

Before Bulma had managed to scold him, frustration had Gohan snag the idiot by the collar. "You're a child," he'd said very slowly and deliberately. "You've also been burnt by the situation, having nearly lost your life by my own hands. So tell me, Trunks, what's the fascination? Did me killing Daddy inspire revenge? Are you just a masochist? No?

"Oh, perhaps, you have a schoolboy crush on me? Do you want to follow me to the Void, huh? Is that it? Are you so determined to end up condemned?"

Beet red, Trunks had swung for him but Gohan still remained so, so much faster.

"You can't hit me," Gohan had goaded, "I'd be your master. Don't you understand the situation? The caste? Do you think when you're done on Earth that you'll get to speak to Rixas the way you do? You'd be a servant and little more."

He'd tossed the kid aside like garbage, willing the message to sink in.

Bulma had tried to help Trunks up but that hereditary pride had her shoved aside. When he'd looked Gohan dead in the eye, angry tears had accumulated. "I just wanted to help you," Trunks had bit out, "I believed in the Revelation! And you, too, Gohan! I still believe in you! You were brave enough to go against everyone to do what's right! You did what everyone else was too selfish to do!

"We're the same – you hate fighting, too, I know you do – so you also suffer this… this awful pressure to protect everyone even though it goes against everything you want. Nobody should have to feel like they have to fight. These are just some stupid symptoms of a bigger problem, and you're the only one who saw that for what it was and stepped forward to rip apart everything.

"Finally, I have something I believe in. You can't just take that away from me, especially after you cut me down and had – I don't know – fate or something consecrate me into the Almighty! And… And Quell did it so don't give me crap about him not wanting me here! If he was fine with it then you can't complain!

"So stop being an asshole and… and accept that I'm going to join you guys whether you like it or not!"

Following Trunks' little speech, Gohan had admittedly been at a loss. Bulma, who'd looked between them as though spectating a tennis match, had been impossibly silenced too.

"Um… Rixas says I have potential," meekly, Trunks had added next. "He—"

"You're still underage."

"But not for long."

"Trunks," Bulma had ultimately said with impressive measure, "This pressure… You know we never expected you to be perfect – your father and I – we just wanted you to do the best you can do. You're strong and so unbelievably clever, as well as a superb older brother to Bulla. Aside from your attitude, you're—"

"Perfect?"

"Well, I wouldn't go that far but I don't have any other complaints. I don't think there's such a thing as a perfect child." Wry, she'd glanced towards Gohan."Those that exist happen to turn into sociopathic little monsters when no-one's looking."

It'd been dry enough to have earned a laugh, at least.

After that, he'd left them to it at the lake; with the two dropping by the Son family house an hour or so later, Bulma demanding something to warm her up and Dad over the moon to have new company. Trunks had decidedly encroached into Gohan's space in the living room, sitting by him on the floor as opposed to next to Goten, who'd watched from the sofa with mild jealousy.

"I am determined, Leading Light," Trunks'd said in abhorrent Celestianese.

Gohan had stared him down; admittedly endeared.

"Your tones are wrong," he'd then returned before switching to Common, "And don't bother with the traditional honorifics. They're out-dated."

"But Rixas said it's rude not to use them!"

"He's probably messing with you."

"That jerk!"

"Don't give him the satisfaction," Goten had advised sagely.

"He's an actual child!"

Seeing these kids sat there, griping and laughing despite everything, had sprung upon a sudden pride in name of them; both Trunks and Goten have been incredibly brave.

"Work hard," Gohan had urged in Celestianese. "Practice daily."

Trunks had been rejuvenated from the encouragement. "Yes! Hard work will I!"

Before he and Bulma had left, Gohan had felt an odd sense of loss; a longing to say or do something without knowing what he'd wanted to communicate to her. Ice pack to hand, Bulma had left with nothing else to be said to him, but she hadn't entirely ignored him either, watching Gohan with an unreadable sort of expression as she and Trunks had taken off in a Capsule Corporation jetcopter.

"She'll come around," Dad had said. "Bulma's just like that sometimes."

Forgiveness isn't something Gohan hungers for. He doesn't want it because he's not sorry for his actions, and for that he'll suffer his consequences dutifully. Gohan deserves the repercussions. It's fine. Really.

Yet…

Even now, as he watches Bulma converse with the interviewer on the news, that longing still swirls about his stomach like sour milk. The dark cloud in his chest is smothered in it, overriding that deeply ingrained sadness and filling him with the foreign sensation to actually do something.

Trunks' brightness flashes in mind, brimming with joy when Gohan had acknowledged his courage. Maybe Gohan should learn something from that, from both of these boys who still know how to evolve despite everything.

Depression is an exhausting way to exist, after all.

"I'm taking a shower," Gohan announces very suddenly. "Then I'm going out."

Goten looks up, surprised. "Where to?"

By the time Gohan leaves the house, it's the golden hour between day and evening, emphasizing the forest in stately hues that make the blossoming leaves look molten. It's a nice walk through the forest. The air smells earthy after the last couple weeks of showers, and Gohan breathes it in, closing his eyes, and remembering the sanctuary of the estate during the wet season. Quell and he would take to walk around the grounds after a storm. He'd like the smell, too, often pointing out the fauna they're scenting. And they'd talk for hours, habitually about Gohan's training, but also about their shared interests like studying, travel or literature. He'd tease Gohan, too, as brothers do, often about how Gohan still struggles to button his more complicated robes, or even in regards to his rivalry with Rixas. In fact, Quell would have them wager against one another, the bastard, just for quick amusement. How he would stir the pot...

Really, more than the Connection, he just misses his brother. He misses the small moments.

Swallowing the sweetness of the evening, Gohan continues until he hears the hush of the imminent waterfall. There, the figure looms once more, and this time Gohan decides to be bold.

When Gohan approaches close enough, the silhouette turns, the shine of the dying sun blinding from behind.

"I've been waiting."

Gohan steps into the stream, unbothered about ruining his old, already ratty trainers. "You know where I've been," he replies, curt. "I didn't think I'd have to do the legwork."

There's a derisive scoff, and then Piccolo floats downward into the water, the revelation somewhat cutting when Gohan notices the namekian appearing… unsymmetrical.

"Namekians are supposed to be able to regenerate any one part of their body," Gohan educates, admittedly disturbed.

"Divine energy is not something my power can contest against, and I'd had no access to a healer following the fight," Piccolo tells him. "With limited resources, it had been either to allow your father to die, allow you to die or allow for my vision to be restored in full."

"I see."

Gohan doesn't look away from his handiwork. The icy blue of Piccolo's left eye is entirely unseeing but still so very cutting. When had it happened? Which attack was it? Gohan doesn't know. There'd been so much bloodshed that day that he's surprised Piccolo survived at all.

"You weren't at the hearing."

"I wasn't permitted," Piccolo says.

"Strange considering the Kai are trying their best to recruit you. I wonder if the Supreme Kai is interested in you as his next assistant now that Kibito is dead." Gohan had heard Rixas say as much to his dad weeks ago, which had made him all the more foul for days on end. "I'm sure the offer would be generous."

He scoffs. "Don't beat around the bush if you have a question. You know how that irritates me. What is it you want to ask?"

"Did the Supreme Kai ask you?"

"Yes, although I rejected him."

"To have received an offer means you must have impressed them. Why refuse it? The Supreme Kai has been promoted quite lucratively so I hear."

"I'm not joining the kais, Gohan."

Gohan nods, trying not to look too pleased. He sits on one of the boulders facing the waterfall, out of the direct light of the sun. From here, the water looks golden and inviting. He'd swim here as a boy, lounging in the current after a challenging day training with Piccolo or his father. As the years went by, he'd bring Goten and teach him how to swim in the shallow end of the pool. Piccolo would meditate in the nearby distance, pretending to be peeved by their presence but always up for a chat once Goten had gone down for his nap. Shortly before Gohan'd died, Dad had started to join them in their afternoon swims, making the days feel full and Gohan so content with life that current day Gohan feels like a different person entirely.

Now, the dark has claimed the water.

"Were you ever tempted to join me in Luxun's Domain?"

Piccolo lets loose a gust of air. "Does it matter?"

"To me, I suppose."

"So you're searching for validation."

"You'd been willing to give it me then," Gohan points out with heat, cheeks warming. Is this a mistake? Why is Piccolo being difficult now? Gohan's trying to make an effort. "It doesn't matter. I suppose you were just trying to manipulate me for the dragon ball. You've not bothered with me since I returned this time, either."

Wounded, Gohan collects one of the smaller stones, skipping it towards the waterfall and into obscurity. There's a clunk when his fourth pebble outright sinks.

"I didn't know how you'd receive me," Piccolo ultimately says, "So I gave you your space."

Gohan struggles to swallow his frustration, sending another stone spiralling. "Oh, think I'd feel guilty over your gammy eye or something?"

"Yes."

He snorts at the brazenness of the reply. "Yeah, well…" Gohan does, a bit, but what's one blinded eye against a mountain of bodies? The next stone cuts a chunk out of the rock face, threatening the formation.

Piccolo makes an unhappy noise. "Gohan, you know I… struggle with this sort of open honesty. What is it you expect of me? If I'd joined you in Luxun's Domain then I would have gone against my own principles. Out of everyone, you should understand how important it is to stick by what you believe in."

"Like me committing suicide being disgraceful? Was that a core principle for you? Is that why you abandoned me?"

"I already apologized for that," he growls, losing patience. "I can't turn back time."

Gohan crunches the rest of the stones in his hand, allowing for the dust to ride the breeze. "Wouldn't that be nice?"

In the beat of silence, Piccolo muddles his way through the stream towards Gohan. But when he reaches out, Gohan recoils further into the pool, loathing the idea of being handled. "I wonder what would have happened if you'd joined me," he marvels, "If maybe you would have stopped me from losing my fucking mind. No, I suppose you wouldn't have… I would have consumed the stone regardless."

"The one with your ancestral souls within?"

"So you've spoken to my father."

"No. The Supreme Kai said the current Lord of the Underworld found remains of the stone whilst he was assisting in creating the flesh ward. Did you know what it was before you consumed it?"

"Yeah."

Piccolo takes in breath through his teeth.

"Disappointed?"

"Frustrated! How are you both so smart and so stupid at the same time? Anything could have happened to you after consumption. Lord Haed could have been trying to kill you, poison you, debilitate you—"

Gohan actually laughs at this. "You would have had a say if you'd joined me," he jokes darkly, "It was a rebound rock. I only took it after facing you all in the Domain."

"Don't—"

"Lighten up, Piccolo. It was only the fate of the entire universe at stake."

"Knock it off."

Gohan clicks his tongue, sinking into silence. "Look… Your advice… I'm sure would have been… I don't know." He scratches at his arm. "You're wise. I've always respected you, and even when I made the wish, I…"

"You, what…?"

"It was your idea to implement Revelation slowly. You suggested it in the Domain. It wasn't a bad idea, I guess." When Gohan looks up, Piccolo's watching him with his one dark eye very intently, saying nothing at all. "Well… That's all I came to say so… yeah…"

"Gohan." This time, he doesn't give opportunity for Gohan to move away. He grips onto Gohan's hoodie, holding him still before he can leave. "I really am sorry.

"And… I'm here," he continues as Gohan holds him hostage under dim gold. "I'm not going anywhere. If you need me, you know where I am."

It turns out that Rixas hadn't been avoiding Earth on account of Gohan; he'd just been drowning under a full schedule. He turns up that very evening in his vastly underused formal meeting robes, finally appearing his age with a faraway look and deep wrinkles which cut into his forehead. Without word, he snags a beer out of the fridge and sits on the dining chair beside Gohan's, leaning into him as though they'd never once fought.

"Shut up," Rixas says before Gohan can ruin the moment, "Just let me rest."

Gohan in turn leans against him; a truce, he realizes, and one he needs after his earlier confrontation with Piccolo.

Perhaps five minutes go by before Gohan opens his mouth.

"'Love you."

Rixas wrangles a hand in his hair. "You too," he replies before planting a firm kiss on Gohan's terrible not-dye job. "You seem to be doing better. I'm glad." Gohan's smile drops when Rixas jangles his can. "Beer?"

There's nothing else so Gohan settles for one, with one quickly escalating into two and then three as is usually the case when drinking with Rixas. This meatsack isn't nearly as rubbish as the old one, matching Gohan's divine metabolism fairly favourably; he grows tipsy by the fourth awful can.

They talk well into the morning, drinking all of Rixas' beers and then the entirety of his dad's brandy when they discover it hiding behind the hot chocolate. The two air everything out, all of their frustrations with one another and with their situations. Gohan doesn't go into detail about his relationship with the Almighty, but he references its intensity, and he talks of how he mourns it along with everyone else who's left him. When Roarg comes up, neither know what to say on the matter. They stare into the abyss and pass the bottle between themselves.

Though, Rixas does cry when recalling waking up to the news of Quell's death. He complains of putting all his efforts in keeping Gohan from the chopping block, which is why he was so angry at him after the hearing. Gohan isn't sure how his brother survived all this sadness…

…Well, until learning Rixas' of ridiculous coping mechanic.

"Yer time room," Rixas'd slurs through the indigestion. "A year."

"By yourself?"

"Yer Da' got me after a while… Good guy."

Rixas had used the Room of Spirit and Time to mourn. It's not a bad idea, Gohan supposes, especially with what's going on; Gohan's hearing, the Realm of the Almighty stuff, Trunks' training and everything else alongside Quell's political positioning, it's a wonder Rixas is still coherent.

"I really don' like the politics," Rixas admits, "Myra's helpin' bu'… Cross'ahates me. Thinks I'm dumb. 'M no good at all'za business talk…"

Today's meeting had been a formal Universe Seven meeting, the preliminary before the Universal Summit happening in the next few months. Universe Seven will surely be the centre of conversation after Revelation just occurring, with Rixas likely taking the brunt of that attention by his association to the movement. Gohan's not overly familiar with the protocols of the other universes so he can't say if they're harsher or more lenient than Universe Seven's, but he does know the flippancy of those in charge of the Summit. One wrong word could bring damnation to the universe.

"I'll help," Gohan promises, "I'll write speeches n' whatever yer need, 'kay?"

Rixas blubbers himself to sleep next to Gohan on the sofa, having not moved by morning when Dad finds them both draped over the cushions and stinking of alcohol.

"I guess I'll buy some more brandy," he jokes, scratching the back of his head.

Like Piccolo, his father has been giving Gohan so much space that it feels like avoidance. He doesn't linger for longer than he needs to, offering Gohan food and simple words of affirmation before disappearing into his own business. Rixas confirms that it's to stop Gohan from feeling smothered. Knowing how Gohan felt about being stuck at the estate for so many years, they'd wanted him not to suffocate.

They're all so kind. Forgiving. Gohan's killed so many yet they still spoil him. It's ludicrous. It's as if the last handful of months had never happened.

Against better judgement, appreciation warms him like last night's brandy.

Despite everything, Gohan remains loved.

"I wanna' see it," Rixas grumbles when he wakes, nudging Gohan with his gross foot. "C'mon. Top off."

"See wha'?"

"The flesh ward. You said you'd show'it me."

"No, I didn't."

"Yer' did. Last night."

"Go back to sleep, drunkard. I'm not showing it."

Dad's curious too – Gohan's seen him staring at his back through the mirror – but Gohan doesn't fancy exhibiting the gaudy art piece Liuciphour disgraced along the entirety of his back, all in name of it being a flesh ward. Gohan knows flesh wards don't always have to be inked. He's seen them; invisible ones that don't make the wearer look branded.

"Liuciphour told me it's a dragon tattoo," Rixas reveals over breakfast, "Which legend speaks of a guarding dragon? There's one from Hell, right? That's gotta' be the one he and the kais drew into your pretty skin."

"Don't describe my skin as pretty. It's disturbing."

"Gohan's alwa' 'een pale, li' his mum," Dad says around a mouthful of congee. "Burns 'eal quick in 'sun."

"Absolutely do feel free to chew your food, Goku."

Two strange things happen that morning, aside from the company. The first comes in the form of an envelope with his name printed along the front – his mortal name, that is – which is passed to him by his dad, who looks equally confused to who would be writing him. The stationary is fancier than Gohan's yet received on Earth, and so he opens it with equal delicacy.

You are cordially invited to attend the wedding of
HARUTO and VIDEL
located at
The Beachside Lodge, Satan Nature Reserve
at the date and time of
May 9th 781
13:00

Gohan rereads it to make sure his brain has computed the words correctly. At the bottom, there's also a note scribbled in Videl's less than neat handwriting.

This is non-negotiable.

Her phone number is reiterated and underlined three times. Hardly useful when he'd left his phone at her—

"And there's a package," Dad says, shuffling an appropriately sized parcel for a phone.

Rixas snatches the invitation. "Ho, ho, ho. Are you going to object?" he asks, so dry that Gohan can't tell if he's being serious or not. "I think I might, y'know. Do you think she'd give me a chance if I confessed? Ooh, that's a nice reaction, Mori."

Before Gohan's able to stab him with the butter knife, the next surprise comes far less welcome when Goten enters – accompanied by the Supreme Kai.

"And why aren't you at school?" Gohan snipes at Goten just to channel his frustration somewhere.

"It's Vernal Equinox day so don't chew my ass out. I wanted to see if you were interested in going see the cherry blossoms, but if you wanna' be a jerk about it—"

"I ran into Goten outside," the Supreme Kai says, "I hope I'm not interrupting. It won't be a long visit, I assure you, as I have many a duty to attend to. Ah, Gohan, I'm pleased to see you up and about. How is the flesh ward? I hope it's not too sore."

"Would you kiss it better if it were?"

Rixas snorts into his fist, but Dad's hand on Gohan's shoulder is the louder message.

"Is everything okay?" his dad asks, the grip tightening into Gohan's t-shirt. Perhaps it's not a warning for Gohan, but a reaction. Is he worried that Shin is here to kidnap Gohan, perhaps to send him to the Void once and for all to be done with it?

The Supreme Kai is perceptive. "Don't worry, Goku. Gohan's detention on Earth remains very much in place. I am here about another matter entirely so feel free to relax. It's actually about the dragon balls."

"The ones Gohan got destroyed?"

"Yes." He pauses, regarding how to best continue. "Gohan," he eventually gets out, wringing his hands together, "You might not like what I'm here to tell you but let's try to be open-minded."

Goten sighs, rubbing his eyes. "Here we go."

"Along with the Namekian dragon balls, we hope to restore Earth's set—"

"Really? Is that possible?"

"Yes, Goku. We shouldn't be rocking any boats by reviving them as it technically wasn't a part of Revelation, just something Gohan intercepted in order to limit our power to fight back against it. Isn't that right, Gohan?"

"I'm not denying it."

"It was a past Revelation though," Rixas points out, "Relics were destroyed for the most part."

"But not the dragon balls," Shin shoots back, "They are special even as relics go. They were, after all, created as a frontline defence against divine misdemeanour; for emergency use in circumstances most dire."

"Er," Goten raises a hand. "Didn't a pig once wish for panties?"

"A pig wished for what?"

"This is great. Have you spoken to Dende yet?" Dad's breakfast has gone impossibly forgotten. "He's gonna' be super happy to restore—"

"No, no, no. I'm also interested in the panties thing," Rixas says, "Let's rewind a bit."

"Nobody else ever seems bothered by it!" Goten complains.

"Why panties?"

"Aw, come on. It was years ago, guys."

"What kind of panties were they? Magical ones?"

"No!" Goten is equally as incredulous. "Just some regular ole' panties!"

"But why? Don't you have somewhere on Earth that—?"

"Gohan," the Supreme Kai says with emphasis, "You're unexpectedly quiet on the matter. I'd been hoping to gauge a general reaction from you. An opinion, if you will."

Gohan leans into his hand, elbow against table. "And what difference does that make?"

"Well, I thought you'd feel rather strongly about the relics all things considering."

"It sounds like you're pretty determined to do as you like. Don't let me ruin the fun," Gohan says, droll. He spoons his congee, turning it to slush. "Though… it'll just put a target on Earth's back… again."

Shin grimaces. "Yes, I thought you might say as much."

But Dad's relentless. "Don't worry! I'll protect Earth!"

"And needless to say but," Gohan continues, feeling the spite resurface in the face of a kai, "I shouldn't be having talks of anything divine, as ordered by the Council. As a supposed mortal, I have nothing to add to the conversation other than my most devout servitude."

Rixas sucks on his teeth. "Don't be petty," he bites out in Lanit-Tongue.

"In fact," Gohan says, standing and taking Videl's invitation and parcel with him, "I'll leave you all to it."

When Shin jumps to his feet in a panic, Gohan confirms a hunch the kai perchance needs something from him. "Wait, Goh—"

The kitchen door shuts behind Gohan with a satisfying click.

The phone spins in its descent; landing in Gohan's outstretched hand. He lies in the overgrown grass of the back garden, tossing it up and down, and enjoying the peace away from the kitchen. The garden's not seen attention since Gohan had his father cut it last summer, but that's fine because he wants to remain out of sight. From within its jungle, he can watch the clouds glide through the blue without disturbance.

Vernal Equinox, huh?

Gohan would celebrate the holiday with his mum every year, customarily cleaning his grandmother's grave in the morning before picnicking in a park in the afternoon. They'd watch the sunset and Gohan would listen out for the cicadas if the weather was hot enough. He'd do the same with Goten as the years went by, additionally strolling with him through a line of perfectly unison cherry blossom trees near Fire Mountain. Their mother would always want to take a picture – every year – so they'd all dress up and pose in front of the looming plum blossom tree near the castle just as the sun set.

After, they'd listen to Grandpa's stories of Grandmother over tea, and when Dad was dead they'd tell tales for him too. The tea Mother would brew was always too floral for Grandpa and Goten, but Gohan always loved it.

If he closes his eyes, he can still smell its aroma.

Mother…

The phone spins and is snatched from the sky, but not by his own hand.

"Are you coming or not?" Goten asks, the sun winking from behind his outline, "I wanna' go before it gets too busy."

"To where?"

"The cherry blossoms!"

"You should spend it with Mum instead," he says without meaning to. Gohan can't see Goten's reaction from this angle, against the bright sky, but it mustn't be good because he just stares down at Gohan for a stretch of time. "This holiday is important to her," is added, "You know that."

"She's got Grandpa."

"All right, well, I don't care about seeing the cherry blossoms."

"All right, well," Goten mocks, "Then I guess we'll stay here in this dump of a garden."

They do for an hour or so, basking in the silence. The morning breaks into afternoon and the sun becomes unusually warm for this time of year. Impressively, Goten doesn't move even though he's normally quite the jitterbug, likely settling for ripping out the grass and letting it sprinkle wayside. The smell of freshly cut grass is welcome, and Gohan finds himself growing drowsy between the scent of spring and the sun's warm kisses.

Somewhere between slumber and reality, Gohan feels the borrowed comfort of escaping his anxiety. The only thing that matters is this moment. This sleepy, isolated moment.

"Gohan," he hears before sleep sets itself upon him.

"Mm?"

"Are you more 'Gohan' or more 'Mori'?"

Gohan's brows crease and he grumbles. What sort of question is that?

"If you had to pick," Goten continues, "Who would you be?"

"…Why?"

"The Supreme Kai keeps calling you 'Gohan'. He didn't before. Have you been demoted?"

Gohan can't help himself. Nap forgotten, he sits up, undeniably dumbfounded. "Demoted?" he laughs, "Goten, it's my birthright, not my job."

"Yeah, but…"

It's written across his face. The kid's confused, which is fair because Gohan's confused by all this too. Shin is treating Gohan the same as any old mortal. No honorifics. No respect. Yet, he still dares approach him for assistance on a subject Gohan has aligned himself against – as though they're buddies.

"Well… How old are you?"

"What?"

Goten's looking at him with expectation. "How old are you?"

"Why do you…? I'm twenty-three. You know that."

"Oh, wow. You didn't even think about it. Your inner Mori wouldn't be twenty-three, right? He'd be like a billion or something. You just went for the Gohan answer. Doesn't that say something about yourself?"

"…It's complicated," Gohan reveals after a beat, not enjoying the topic. He never likes thinking about the blurred line between what makes him who. "I don't want to talk about it." Then, sourly, he adds, "And I'm not a billion."

Goten shuffles upwards with eyes most mischievous. "How does that make dating? Being an old man and all?"

"I don't date, and I'm not an old man!"

"Rixas said you went on dates."

Gohan doesn't know why but blood rushes to his ears. "Don't listen to that idiot. He's just trying to paint a bad picture of me to get a reaction."

"He said you'd say that. He also said that you're gonna' hit on Videl next chance you get—"

"Did he tell her that?"

Goten's laughing. "Oh, for sure."

Choosing not to believe him, Gohan falls back to the grass and rubs at his eyes. "I don't want to deal with any of this."

Goten flops against him, his head a boulder against an unsuspecting gut. "Well, you don't have to until you're ready. That's what my therapist said, and I've not topped myself yet so he's gotta' be doing a half decent job, right?"

"Goten."

"Chill out. I'm just kidding. Not that you can talk."

Gohan scrunches his nose, choosing not to respond. He feels his cheeks warm under the sun. Dad's right. He does burn fast, but the rays today feel so good that he finds himself not caring.

"Gohan…"

"What now?"

"Do you think you could teach me Celestianese, too?"

"You only want it because Trunks is learning," he tells him, brutally so. "Besides, it's not an easy language to get your head around."

"So you don't think I can do it?"

"More that I think you're lazy."

"I liked you better when you were nicer."

"I'd say the same but you've always been awful," Gohan teases, snorting when Goten turns around and lumps him one in the arm. "Oh, don't dish it out if you can't take it."

Goten's smiling though, if just a little shyly. "Could you, though? Teach me, I mean."

"Fine, sure, whatever, if you're quiet."

"Last question. It's pretty serious, though."

Gohan anticipates the worst, closing his eyes.

"Will you come see the cherry blossoms with me?"

Gohan does, and they're beautiful.

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Sorry for not replying to as many reviews or PMs recently! My new job is hectic and I've just started back at university on top of that! I'm off to Taiwan next week so I'm chucking this bad boy to the wind. Expect the next (mini chapter) in a few days. Then you'll get another full chapter, another mini chapter and then, as far as I've so far drafted, the final chapter. This is tentative so we'll have to see how it all goes. The formatting of these chapters have been kicking my ass. Anyway, thanks so much for following this far with me. Not long at all until the journey is over. Kags, of course, beta'd this chapter for me, so thanks to her for her usual contributions!

I'm starting to get that empty feeling that comes with finishing a story :(