The Horse with No Name
Chapter Seven
Onwards
When Gohan had been a kid he'd always wanted a friend his own age. A few of the village kids would invite him to play ball games sometimes when he'd get supplies for his mother, but rarely did he ever join them. Gohan had been far stronger, never really knowing his own strength –or at least what's considered a normal amount of strength– and so would often make excuses or just avoid them completely. It never hindered him; not having friends his own age, or at least he'd thought so until he went to school with Videl. Erasa and Sharpner (more so the former than the latter) can be considered his friends now too. They all study together, eat lunch together, and one time they all went to an amusement park together –he's never experienced anything like it. For once, he felt kind of normal.
So now that he's hanging around with the million-plus year old god, why does he feel like the older one?
Gohan grimaces. "My foot doesn't bend that way."
"Sure it does. Here. Just give it a little twist. Oh, don't scream, you baby."
"I think you broke something!"
"Do behave." Rixas clicks his tongue, angling Gohan's elbow to be better tucked in. "Aaand tah-dah. There you have it. Now that's what I call a power stance!"
The teenager shakes, struggling to hold said 'power-stance' as his knees threaten to turn inwards at a moment's notice under the wobbly strain. His calves are on fire and Gohan's not sure he'll ever have use of his left ankle again. When Gohan collapses into a messy pile of throbbing limbs, Rixas claps like he'd just won an award.
"Excellent display. Absolutely fabulous."
Gohan extends a hand, grasping at air. "You're a bad teacher."
Rixas takes it and hauls him up, laughing. "You're a worse student."
Once he's up, Gohan takes to dusting the smattering of dirt off of his gi into little brown clouds. The once dark shade of his bottoms is now a murky brown-grey. "I'm never going to get this."
"You're doing better than last week."
And he is, if only because Gohan can hold the position for longer than three seconds now without losing balance. It's not exactly a proud feat but he'll take it. At least Rixas seems happy. There's a whopping grin on his face like Christmas had just come early, all whilst he's admiring the teenager with an affection resembling the budding of pride. Gohan won't bask in it however, instead turning away to look at anything else –he refuses to be a project for this meathead.
Refuse all he likes it's still happening.
"Here," calls Rixas. Gohan turns and catches an apple. "Get that down your neck. We'll pick up again once your lady ankles feel better."
Gohan's brow twitches. He takes a large bite of the apple, enjoying the dribble of juice running down his chin. They're much sweeter than the ones on Earth, never sour and always a girly pink colour. Gosh, what he'd do to be able to eat an Earth apple, sour or not…
It's been six weeks since his departure from Earth; six long weeks. He's trying to stay positive about all this. Gohan's been away from home for much longer. If he can survive the wilderness alone for six month as a little kid then he thinks that he can survive lodging in a fancy mansion with a bunch of weirdoes… even if one of said weirdoes thinks beating him up daily constitutes as training.
No, no. Gohan shakes his head, banishing the thought. Positive; that's right, he has to stay positive.
Another crunch sounds from the apple.
Whilst Rixas comes across as quite the eccentric, Gohan can say that the guy has somehow grown on him –much like how mould would trail up a tree or how a parasite would lovingly attach itself to an animal. This parasite mostly enjoys pestering Gohan to spar until he snaps and ends up doing exactly what he wants him to do anyway.
Ugh, is Gohan really that easy to play?
A sigh leaves the teenager. Everyone around here is crazy. They test him with their strange antics in the hopes that he'll stumble upon some senseless epiphany. Several weeks after the last vision Gohan's not had any others whatsoever, and despite Rixas' pestering for him to try the serenity candle again he has no plans to do so. Gohan Son has no interest in drugs.
After his talk with Doctor Jivel a few weeks back, Gohan got up the next morning, tail between his legs, and searched around the estate looking for Rixas. He'd made sure to avoid the area of the estate with the large fountain as to make sure not to near Quell's quarters; that's one lesson learned. After an hour or so of searching, Gohan had managed to find the courtyard. It's a humble section of land, comparably small to some of the other portions of the property he'd seen already. Square, grey and encased in high walls, it makes a perfect place for private practice. This is where he'd found Rixas.
Gohan prefers the term 'determined' over 'stubborn'; a word which probably best describes him when coming to matters of the heart. Even if he'd been sorry for showing disrespect towards Rixas, he'd not been about apologizing because he really did stand by his words. He'd wanted to go home –still does, and so Gohan hadn't uttered anything of the sort. Apparently just seeing Gohan there had been enough for Rixas, however, because within seconds the deity had bounced over and put him into a headlock for nearly a solid two minutes, laughing.
Quick to forgive, quicker to smile; yes, Gohan can definitely see his father in this man… and that's why he must find the dolt so darn likeable.
"What do you wanna' do for lunch?" asks Rixas. "I still haven't shown you the South Lake Area yet. I think you'll like it; lots of wildlife."
"You want to take a break already?" Gohan's surprised. He's only sporting a bloodied lip, black-eye and two dislocations; that's practically nothing compared to how he usually comes out of this. "Look, I can still move my left leg. I feel like it's not a job well done until you break it."
Rixas barks a laughs, apple spraying everywhere. "I did say that you're getting better!"
Gohan wipes bits of the showered apple from his face. "I just think you like having a reason to beat me up."
"Fine, fine. We'll skip lunch. I'm game to continue sparring."
"N-No!" His hands wave up, eyes manic. "Okay, lunch it is! Let's go to this lake place of yours. I want to see it."
Rixas, as usual, is physical with his affection. An arm drapes around Gohan's sweaty shoulders. "Should I invite Quell? It'll be like old times." Another bark escapes when he reads Gohan's horror-struck expression. "I'm just teasing. Awh, Mori, don't look at me like that. It's a joke. I promise Quell won't be there. I'm seeing him tonight anyway."
Gohan cranes his neck away because a deep, dark part of him likes getting a reaction out of Rixas. Call it revenge for the uncountable amount of times Rixas gets a rise out of him. It's just payback. He milks it just long enough for Rixas to start calling him by his actual name, a rare but immensely enjoyable thing just because it means the teenager's got one over on him.
"Go-haaan," he sings, "come eat with me, Go-haaan. Let's eat some delicious food, Go-haaan."
"Stop teasing me," the younger insists.
"Go-haaan."
"Rixas!"
"G–"
"I hope you choke on your lunch."
"Uwah, so mean. You're getting mean." The arm tightens around Gohan's neck and Rixas starts wailing into the crook of it like a child. He cries out the name, savouring each syllable's foreign sound as though he's a naughty schoolboy testing out new swear words. Gohan tries not to laugh when the idiot splutters into a damp shoulder. "Eugh, so… moist."
"Not all of us can remain bone dry," he off hands, slipping away courtesy of the sheath of perspiration. "We can't all be as criminally strong as a god, you know."
Rixas nods a head towards him, a small sort of smile on his face. "You could."
The rare earnestness of it makes Gohan splutter. "Y-Yeah, well…"
Despite feeling like the more mature of the two Gohan doesn't mind too much. If a stranger saw them he's pretty sure they'd just look like a couple of friends mucking around; two normal school-age friends with nothing better to do than wrestle on a field in the middle of nowhere. It's nice, really. Whilst Erasa and Sharpner could be considered friends, it feels as though that's really the case with Rixas.
There's a brief break of silence until a hand claps Gohan's arm. "Food?"
He smiles back, nodding. "Food."
Age 780
Mount Paozu, Earth
Schoolbooks, spare clothes, phone charger, questionable collection of comics accumulated over the years… Okay, he's packed everything he can see. Goten looks around the somewhat tidy bedroom; a foreign sight to behold. After clearing out everything of value to him (stuffed toys have been stored under the bed in a box), he can boast that for the first time in years that the floor can be seen in its entirety. And this is how it's going to look from now on; clean, empty and void of any inhabitant. Goten zips up his battered backpack and surveys the space.
"Good riddance," he tells the Mausoleum.
Even his room is a graveyard in its own right, harbouring memories like the dead, concealing good times in the depths of childhood memorabilia and teasing a time long left in the past. But no more will Goten put up with it. He doesn't want to be constantly reminded of how much he doesn't live up to… someone else.
The morning light peers through the cut of the curtains, making Goten suspect the dourness of yesterday's weather has long since passed. When he'd gotten home last night he'd had to deplete his dad's last first aid kit of senzu beans. He took one for the multiple broken bones and then took the other out of spite. His dad will probably return so broken and beaten up that he won't be able to make it to the first aid kit anyway. Piccolo will most likely have to take him straight to Dende.
Whatever. Goten doesn't care anyway. With his bag slung over his shoulder he makes his way down the stairs and through the kitchen. Just as he's about to open the backdoor it swings ajar. It's a bit of a shock and he almost falls over when his dad emerges from the other side, a colossal fish chopped in two resting on each side of his back.
"Good morning," he says, pushing past the teenager and into the kitchen. The fish follows. "I thought I'd get us something fresh for breakfast."
Goten stares into the lifeless whites of the poor creature, lost for words.
"I'm kind of hungry after last night's training session. There're some noodles in the fridge too, and some bread. What do you think?"
Not much, if the teenager is honest. The sheer disregard for what happened last night doesn't surprise Goten, not by a long shot. This is a typical Goku Son move. But it does frustrate him; repulse him a bit. Last night had been a mess. Goten doesn't want fish –he wants to go home. Yet here his dad stands, not an injury in sight and as fresh as a daisy, equipped with their meal and his sunshine smile. Goten is so riled up that he can't bring himself to even use words. Instead, he just makes his way towards the door, backpack swinging.
"Hey, hey, where you goin'? Goten? Hey, Goten, I'm calling you!"
Fists clenched, finally Goten swivels. "You're kidding me, right?"
"Huh?"
"You've gotta' be kidding me."
"What do you me–"
"After last night you think I want to hang around here?"
His dad looks genuinely confused. "Goten, I don't get–"
"It literally happened last night!" he snaps, "you beat me so hard that I barely made it home without passing out."
A flicker of discomfort passes over his dad's face, one which is just as quick to disappear. The man shrugs a shoulder and the fish slides free. "Heh. I guess we got a bit rough towards the end there–"
"Rough?" he repeats, livid. "I couldn't even breathe! I—I really thought… God, Dad, I thought that you were going to kill me."
His dad looks like he's struggling not to react. The smile looks far more forced than normal. "I think I probably pushed it a bit far this time. Sorry, bud! Ha-ha, next time I'll–"
"There's not going to be a next time! I'm done. See this?" He shakes his backpack. "This is my stuff –all of it; I'm taking it all and not coming back."
"Goten?"
"I'm sick of it. All you want to do is train, train, train. I hate it! I'm so sick of training. Why can't you see how much I hate it? How much I don't wanna' get beaten up each and every time I'm here? How I'm not… not… him."
The saiyan tilts his head. "Gohan?"
"Don't say his name!"
"Why not? He's your brother."
"He's dead!"
"I… know that," he replies, still sounding equally confused as before and pushing all of Goten's buttons because of it. "But we don't need to pretend like he doesn't exist."
Goten hits a palm against the kitchen counter. "Didn't –didn't exist."
His dad stands still and watches Goten for a particularly long time, face unreadable. The teenager feels scrutinized, as though it's him that's acting like the crazy one, as though he'd been the one to start senselessly pounding his kid into the dirt.
"He's dead, I know," Dad eventually continues in a deliberate voice. It sounds practiced. Maybe Piccolo has him repeating this same phrase every other day. At least that green asshole knows how far gone his dad is. "He died a while ago but it doesn't mean that he's gone."
"That's exactly what it means so why can't we just move on? Why can't you just let it go? Why are you still so obsessed with him?"
"I mean…" The man scratches at the back of his head, awkward. "I mean that just because he's not here now doesn't mean that he's not with us like, uh, spiritually or something."
Angry, Goten presses. "Were you 'spiritually with us' when you died?"
"Sometimes." The response startles Goten –he doesn't have a reply to that. "Y'know," he continues, "I can't sense him or anything but I just know that he's out there, and that he wants to come home. That's why I train so much."
Goten scoffs. "I know why you train. It's because you want to save him like you want to save everyone. You can't save the dead, Dad."
His dad gawkily chuckles. "You tryin' to sound like Piccolo or something?"
"He's dead and there's nothing you can do about it. The dragon balls don't work, and you won't be able to beat up his gravestone until he decides to come back–"
"Goten."
His dad doesn't appreciate the lack of respect but Goten's sick of it. "No, Dad," he says, "I'm done. See here," he shakes his backpack once again, "this is everything I own from this dust box. I'm serious about not coming back. I don't want anything to do with you and your mad quest to become stronger and stronger. Count me done with this house, and done with you."
"D-Don't be like that," he tries, brows dropping. The fish slops to the floor as he reaches towards the departing teenager. "Let's talk about this, son. Goten, Goten–"
"Get off'a me," he snaps when he's tugged back. "I said I'm done."
"I don't get it. Where's this coming from? Is this because of last night?"
Really?!
It's been a long time coming and Goten says just as much. He feels the heat run all the way from his chest and up into his head, where it feels like it's ready to burst red and pop. "Are you kidding me? Dad, I hate coming here! All you want to do is train and fight. Mum got sick of it and so have I! It's all you can think about. I know some of it has to do with him, but I really think you're just addicted to getting stronger. You're just like Vegeta –except Vegeta isn't completely awful because I saw him actually spend time with Trunks and Bulla, doing something that isn't sparring. I bet even he thinks you've lost it too, huh?"
Hurt courses across his dad's face but Goten can't stop himself now that he's started.
"You beat me so hard that, if not for Piccolo, I really could have died!" he shouts. The truth of it is still raw and so it still hurts. Tears prickle at the corner of his eyes. "And you don't even care, even now, you don't say sorry or you don't acknowledge it—you just bring a fucking fish and–" he takes a deep breath, "and you just try and brush all this under the carpet as usual. I'm sick of it here! I'm sick of feeling invisible!"
"Goten–"
"You hit me!" he accuses as though he's just realised it for the first time, "you really hit me!"
"G–"
"A-And if not for Picc…" A hand reaches up and catches the first sob. "Dad… you really hurt me."
Goten's not cried in years, not like this. The last time had been when his parents first announced their separation. Even though Mum promised that it wouldn't be forever they're still not back together even to this day, and it's not as if Goten doesn't know why. He does. It's because his dad is acting like a selfish asshole.
"Why are you being like this?" he asks through a clot of tears. "I just want us to be normal again!"
The pregnant pause is a stretched one. It's not silent if only because Goten can't control the hiccoughs behind the palm of his hand. No matter how hard he tries he can't swallow the sadness.
"Goten," Dad tries once more. It's spoken so softly that Goten has to look up to see if he'd heard right, and once he does he notices that finally his dad's face looks as wrought with the same stress as Goten feels. "Please… just hear me out."
He swallows against the dryness of his throat as those dark eyes bore into his own. They're like those of a puppy's. Goten finds it impossible to say no and so he turns and waits.
"I… I know I messed up last night," Dad is quick to say, "I kind of… just… got too into it. I'm sorry. Goten, I'm really sorry. Please don't go."
"You hurt me," he repeats weakly.
"I know, I know. I'm sorry. Look, Piccolo really gave me a hard time last night after you left. I know what I did was awful –I just… I really suck at this kind of stuff, you know?"
Yes, Goten knows. He holds his breath and waits for his dad to continue.
"Even when I knew that you were done I just wanted to push you more. I just think you're so strong, Goten. I know you could reach the next level if you just tried–"
"Dad!"
He jostles. "Ah, I'm sorry! Look, I know what I did was wrong. It won't happen again –ever again– so if you stay and give me a chance then you don't have to worry. I won't drag you out for a spar." A glance is spared for the fish crumpled on the floor in two halves. "Actually, I was thinking that we could go fishing today. Getting this guy was really refreshing and I was thinking we could check out the creek after we eat… I mean… if you want to."
Goten furrows his brows, staring hard at decapitated fish. "I don't know."
Then he feels the spread of warm fingers through his hair, and he looks up to see something not completely readable in his dad's expression. "I really am sorry," he quietly tells him, "I wouldn't ever hurt you on purpose. I love you, kiddo."
The teenager sniffs. He knows his dad didn't mean to hurt him. It just happens. What annoys Goten most is that it's always an accident. His dad never forgets a dinner date on purpose, never hits Goten too hard on purpose, never makes promises he'll break on purpose; it just kind of happens. The problem with his dad is that he never tries to avoid his own pitfalls; he always prioritizes the wrong stuff.
But he's trying now…
Goten stares at his dad's hurting eyes.
Just once chance.
"Fishing…" the teenager mumbles, "…could be fun." He then notices the man's expression lighten by several shades. "It'll just be fishing –no fighting?"
"None," his dead assures, bright. "It'll just be me, you and any of the fish we catch."
"You promise? Piccolo won't be there, right?"
A grin spreads wide, and the man laughs. "We'll have a father-son day. No fighting, namekians or anything of the sort. Heck, I'll change out of my gi now." His dad's smile is contagious. Goten finds himself mirroring it as the goof scratches at the back of his head, sheepish. "I think I've still got some regular clothes somewhere."
I'll give him this one.
Goten wipes a snotty nose against his arm as the last of the tears dry up. His dad has an arm around his neck now and his pulling him in for a half hug/half headlock, chuckling as Goten pretends to hate every moment of it.
"We could go to the World Martial Arts Tournament if you want –in the next couple of weeks I mean– if you want," he goes on to say over the top of Goten's mountainous locks. "Don't worry. We don't have to participate or anything. I just thought it could be nice."
The tournament had been moved due to force majeure from May of that year to the dryer, sizzling date of August. Goten knows his dad had originally planned on participating to try and earn some prize money but after a succession of typhoons the idea had been put on the back burner. Actually, the teenager enjoyed that last tournament he went to, and a hopeful part of him doesn't hate the idea of going this year.
"We… could do that," he says coyly.
"Good. Great. That's great! Say, let's get breakfast on the stove and then we can head out and enjoy the sunshine."
"Ugh, I'm not eating anything that witnessed me blubber," Goten says in reference to the fish on the floor.
Dad ruffles at his hair again. "I don't mean to break it to you, kiddo, but that poor guy long since bit it."
"I don't know. It's giving me the stink eye."
Another laugh leaves his dad. "Oh yeah, have you thought that maybe–"
The back door flies open and Goten pistons a foot into the air out of shock. Dad is quick on his feet and pushes him behind, but it's all for nought when the easily recognizable form of the Supreme Kai perches at the doorframe.
"Oh, you scared me," Dad breathes, hand to chest. "I didn't sense you approachin–"
"Goku, I need your assistance," urges the kai.
There's a manic energy about the guy, something Goten's never seen before except in the instance of the fiasco surrounding Majin Buu. The flop of white hair against the kai's purple skin is askew and flat with perspiration. Clearly there's an effect on his dad too because Goten feels the arm around his shoulder slither downwards.
"What happened?"
The Supreme Kai looks between father and son, unsure of how to elaborate. "I just tracked some warriors to this area. I thought that perhaps they'd been pursuing you."
His dad leans forward. "Warriors?"
The tone sounds less concerned and more… excited.
"Dad, fishing, remember?"
He coughs, falling back. "Uh, right. Fishing. Sure, yeah."
But the Supreme Kai isn't done. "These warriors have been causing distress amongst the higher up kais and gods for some time. For them to be hovering around Earth is a cause for concern. I could really do with your assistan–"
"Sorry," Goten interrupts, not at all sorry. "But Dad and I have stuff to do, right, Dad?"
But his dad doesn't look as sure. He gives a pat to Goten's shoulder as he passes, stepping over the fishy goliath on the floor and over to the Supreme Kai. "What? They're special higher beings or something?"
"Dad."
"Zealites," says the Supreme Kai; whatever that means. There's a weight of exasperation about the way he says it. "They're called Zealites, and from our intelligence on them so far all we know is that they're plotting something of great magnitude. Why they're on Earth we still have yet to determine."
"But they're strong, right?"
"Yes. We've had some rough encounters," he dismisses, waving a hand. "Your planet's dragon balls; do you know where they are?"
Everyone knows where the four star ball is. It resides in the dustiest and loneliest space in the Mausoleum, sitting atop the highest shelf in the most northern bookshelf of the room where it most likely spectates his dad's comings and goings on a regular basis. Goten watches his dad say as much to the kai, to which the kai says something back and then the exchange is just white noise to the teenager's ears.
His father's voice grows more and more animated at the prospect of the kai's concerned words, and Goten starts to feel something bubble in his stomach, bubble hot and red. Without another word, he snatches the backpack up and starts in the other direction of the front door.
"Where you going?" asks Dad before he can make the corner.
Goten swivels, his backpack slamming the doorframe. "Pick now, Dad. It's either me or that."
Horror-struck, his dad lumbers forward with feet which refuse to cooperate. "Goten, come on. You can't expect me not to help out here."
"This is your last chance, Dad."
His heart aches, panging hard.
Pick me.
"Dad?"
Please…
His dad's eyes grow wide. He looks like a deer in the headlights, stuck between which path to take in order to escape an oncoming truck.
Goten's chest tightens.
Fine. I'll make the choice for you.
The deer doesn't move and so one path closes up. Before his dad can even give a reply, Goten is out of the front door and on his way home to Fire Mountain.
Age 774
The Realm of the Almighty, the Estate Grounds
"Move that back foot –move it!"
Gohan whirls, tripping over his own ankle. "I'm trying!" he snaps back as his attacker pursues him. Rixas is extraordinarily fast, much faster compared to Gohan, especially so as he attempts to bat him away with this new stance. He just can't keep his balance.
"Mori!" Rixas rebukes mid assault, "watch left!"
Mine or his?
It's too late; Rixas is merciless and manages a vicious strike against his left ankle. A crunch sounds, and then a yelp. A rush of pain courses down his leg and the teenager plummets down onto the pads of his knees, the grass swallowing around baggy gi pants as he tips over to bring his foot up.
"You broke it!" Gohan growls, "damn it, Rixas!"
Rixas saunters over next to him with annoying lightness and inspects the injury. "I sure did. Look at that bruising. What a lovely clean break."
Gohan hisses from the pain, and probably from the frustration too. "You didn't need to go that far!"
Rixas puckers his lips. "I warned you. I said that I was gonna' come left at you. It's not my fault that you've got the reflexes of a pensioner." He clicks his tongue as though he's the one who has the right to be frustrated. "Here, let me have a look."
Gohan gives the deity a bit more space to manoeuvre. "You know what you're doing, right?"
The idiot turns and flashes his warmest smile. "Not really."
Flopping backwards against the dirt, Gohan refuses to believe that this man is really millions of years old. Just what has he been doing for all this time? If Gohan was that age he'd at least try and learn all there is to learn about first aid or injuries. Heck, if he was that old he'd want to learn about everything.
Rixas leans down and Gohan thinks it's because he's trying to get a better look, so when the dolt plants a sloppy kiss to the base of his ankle the teenager swivels and nearly knees him in the face.
"I kissed it better, aren't you happy?"
"No!" Gohan yaps, "I need the serum, you great big dope."
Said serum is the medical cream Rixas had introduced to him weeks ago. Its magical properties have the capability to heal any wound or injury much like how senzu beans can. However, a key difference is that this serum, named Amber Salve for its orange-gold colouring, is more plentiful in that a little really does go a long way. Whilst senzu beans are rare and can only be grown in a specific place, Amber Salve lines the shelves of the medical bay in large bucket-like tubs.
These gods are so spoilt. What Dad would do to get his hands on stuff like that...
"I haven't got any on me," Rixas says as he gives Gohan's throbbing ankle a fond pat. "We'll have to go back to the medical bay. Think you can stand or will I have to carry you bridal style?"
"Or I could wait for you here," Gohan suggests.
Rixas just has to be melodramatic about it. "If you want to be boring about it then I guess. Does my bride require anything else whilst I'm there?"
"Ugh, don't be creepy."
The blond laughs it off and jumps up onto the balls of his feet. The bird's nest on the top of his head bounces with him as he makes his way to the dirt road. It's a long, winding thing leading back to the estate through a snicket ending at the medical bay. After a wave goodbye Rixas has disappeared into the density of the forest, leaving Gohan to lay spread-eagle in the grass. The flowers are even more aromatic today, and so he savours the tranquil moment if only because he knows Rixas will certainly come and upset it when he returns.
I wonder what's going on on Earth right about now…
A rustle in the nearby bushes has him fold upwards. The ankle screams in admonishment from the sharpness of it, but Gohan's too preoccupied with who could be coming through the thicket. When nobody shows up he puts it down to being either the wind or a wild animal. These woods often harbour strange noises, noises which sometimes have him lying in bed at night staring out and over the pitch black forests in concern. Times like these remind Gohan that he really isn't home, and that these are not his woods.
"Hello?" he tries weakly. There's no reply, not even a hush from the leaves.
Eventually he lowers back down to the grass. This isn't the first time he's been left alone out here and it won't be— another rustle sounds. He sits up.
"Who's there?" he calls.
Silence bar the usual chirping and whoosh of the river responds. Gohan has a bad feeling and so he jumps up onto two –albeit wobbly– feet and plants his back against a particularly big tree. A course of frustration aimed at Rixas makes him grit his teeth. If that idiot hadn't crushed his ankle then he wouldn't be such easy pickings right about now.
"Show yourself," Gohan insists when he hears not a rustle, but a misplaced footstep.
Don't freak out. Stay calm.
Another bout of silence drags on for so long that Gohan starts to think that it must have all been in his head. He leans ever so slightly forward and tries to focus his ears. Nothing. That's when a sudden crunch of bark explodes behind him as a fist plants through the centre. Gohan is so shocked that he doesn't register when the fist unfurls and grabs at his top, yanking him hard as splinters soar in every direction and cut into the surrounding woodland. There's little time to spin and pull himself clean, and the chaos of wood exploding has him near enough blind, so when the pursuer grapples the teenager to floor, he has little choice but to comply.
Gohan avoids a second hand grasping at his throat by bringing a knee up and into the gut of the individual. It connects cuttingly and the person bounces back into a staggered hold. This gives Gohan just enough time to appraise the fighter, or at least what he can of them. They're completely veiled in black from head to toe, as though they're a three-dimensional shadow cast over the greens of the forest. It's jaunting to see, creepy in its own right; something which makes Gohan think of the equally uncomfortable uncanny valley characters he's seen in horror movies. The featureless face harbours no expression as it stares him down.
"Who are you?"
They don't respond. When the head tilts ever so slightly Gohan feels a shiver run down his spine.
"Why did you attack me?"
Finally, the person responds and Gohan feels the air around drop several degrees cooler.
"Be still and I'll make this quick." The voice is a whisper, genderless, barely heard over the emptiness between them.
Gohan takes a step back just to stumble. His ankle thrums in immediate fury as the teenager contains a yowl. It's a cruel reminder that he's actually injured and any serious fight would have Gohan on his back in seconds. But he doesn't take the next move lying down; he wrestles the incoming attack astray with a well-timed grapple, and then strikes out with his injured foot. When it connects he makes sure not to wince, makes sure not to give away his weakness, but it's all for nought when the attacker cracks a dark elbow into the base of the ankle.
The teenager yowls and sinks low. When another hand grasps at his chin and flexes he's forced to look up and at the empty darkness of this mystery person. Gohan sees nothing. The void continues forever in a swirl of black smoke, one shaped into human form, feeling firm and just as real as any other living creature Gohan's come by.
The teenager goes to pull back for a better swing and that's when it happens—
"Brace yourself!"
Her voice is shrill and recognizable, and he doesn't do as told straight away. That's when he sees a gloved fist curl into the cheek of the creature, making it churn away at an awkward angle before crumpling into the distance. His saviour is quick to collect him from the ground.
"Are you injured, my lord?"
Gohan looks up numbly as he stumbles about, saying dumbly; "You're that captain."
"Captain Roarg," she says. It's a fleeting introduction, or rather reintroduction as they'd already met weeks ago in these very woods.
Her attention is now on a newly formed dust cloud, one which had been formed from when punching that mysterious attacker. She holds a hand against his upper arm. It's a protective action and makes Gohan feel all the more useless. As the fog of debris settles, the hand slides down his arm.
"Damn," she growls, "sneaky bastard."
Gohan focuses and understands the frustration equally as well. The person has disappeared.
"Cowards… the lot of them…" Captain Roarg sighs and then turns back to him. Her face doesn't look as tightly wrought as the last time he'd seen her, now it's smooth with the lack of hostility, almost warm with concern as she gives him a once over. There's then an effort of dusting him down, most likely checking for injuries as she wipes away the splints of wood. "Your ankle… did they do that to you, my lord?"
"N-No," Gohan replies. Talk about a personality turn-around; she'd threatened to kill him last time. The memory isn't lost on him. "Th-That was Rixas."
She clicks her tongue but doesn't comment.
"Please can you stop doing… uh… that."
Her hands hover over his gi, halting. All the twigs are long gone spare for the tiny thing she then manages to pluck out of his hair. Something about the way her lips twitch tell Gohan that she's itching to smirk in his face, lord or no.
"I'm sorry," she eventually says. "I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable."
His cheeks burn. "Yeah… well, uh, just… who was that?"
Captain Roarg's demeanour changes in a drastic swing. "Nothing for you to concern yourself with at the present time, my lord. I'm sorry I wasn't able to intervene quicker. Had I been surveying the area with a keener eye then–"
Gohan twists. "You've been watching me?"
"The entire area," she goes on to say, swinging the blonde braid from one shoulder to the other. "Do you not recall? That's how you I found you some weeks ago. I scout this area along with my men. We watch over the estate and by extension the entire realm."
He peers over his shoulders and into the shrubbery. Are her men out there now? It's in all likelihood that they're pursuing the attacker as they speak.
"Are you injured, Lord Mori?" she asks once again, tone more measured. Gohan shakes his head but it seems to do nothing to ease her concerns. "I think it wise we take a trip to the Spire Infirmary just as a precaution."
"I-I'm fine! Really! Nothing happened!"
"With all due respect, perhaps we let Doctor Jivel be the judge of that."
Gohan sighs and scratches at the back of his head. He really doesn't like being treated like some precious china doll. Doesn't she remember that they'd gone toe-to-toe when they first met? Their fight had been pretty fairly matched and that was without Gohan really using a good portion of his power. And now with his long training days with Rixas, he's sure that he'd outclass her pretty quickly.
When he turns to tell her as much the teenager stops, words thick on the tip of his tongue. Her eyes are thin as she gazes over to where the attacker had been, trailing over each spot with growing anxiety. Gohan can sense it. Her feelings are on her sleeves about as much as his are.
"Nobody is hurt," he reassures. The captain still doesn't move. Her expression remains hard.
Quell's voice travels through his mind once again like a recurring echo, that same sentence;
'Don't think you can deceive me! You think I will accept this disrespect, this daring, lying down? The Zealites took one from me and they shan't take another, not again!'
Gohan breathes hard and cradles his arms. What a mess this is turning out to be. "Captain," he tries another time, "was it the Zealites?"
The reaction is instantaneous. Her head whips round, eyes wide and expressive. She offers not a word but that face alone tells Gohan all he needs to know.
It's a bit nostalgic in a way to be back in the Spire area. The hospital still has that clinical smell he remembers, and the beeping is a familiar and unwelcome white noise he'd long since deleted from his brain. Something about it altogether makes the teenager squirm. His time had been both daunting and comfortable (thanks to the good doctor) here and so the bittersweet anxiety is rife. Unsurprisingly, no one present seems to have much sympathy.
Doctor Jivel swipes a hand down his wrinkled face. "Lord Mori's foot holds 26 bones and you, my lord," his bespectacled gaze lingers towards Rixas, "managed to break eight of them. That's nearly a third."
Rixas doesn't take it lying down. "I told him to watch out."
"And I told you not to play rough with the poor boy."
"Tch. We were gonna' use Amber Salve."
The doctor sighs, looking even more exasperated than a moment ago. "The serum is not to be used like superglue every time something goes wrong, my lord. Overuse will strengthen the body's will against it. Prevention is better than any kind of remedy."
Rixas leans back in his chair like a sulky child. "Yeah, let's just all stay bubble-wrapped our entire existence. Sounds like a hoot."
Doctor Jivel, from behind his desk, turns and regards Gohan with badly veiled sympathy. The teenager sinks lower in his seat with the growing desire to turn invisible. Even though it's Rixas being told off, Gohan feels he should say something in the god's defence.
"He, uh, did warn me I guess."
Rixas actually laughs and the doctor just appears even more concerned.
"Wow, good try, little brother."
Gohan feels his cheeks warm. "Sh-Shut up."
Rixas leans over and snaps his fingers, lips upturned. "Look, Doc, he's fine. There'd been nothing else wrong with him bar a poor foot, and you've done such an excellent job healing it that I think it's even better now than before." The idiot slaps a hand on Gohan's knee. "If we've got any other problems then we'll call you."
When said hand squeezes, Gohan knows it's his turn to agree. "Uh, ah, sure. We'll call."
Apparently this isn't good enough for the doctor and after a beat he gestures to the office door with a strained smile. "Lord Rixas, would you mind if I spoke to Lord Mori alone?"
Rixas runs a hand through his hair and groans. "Oh jeez, fine."
The door closes behind the blond with an unhappy slam. The teenager's brows crease together as his gaze lingers there long after Rixas disappeared. He's really like a little kid, honestly.
"Don't judge him too harshly," comes the doctor's surprising words. His glasses now lay on the table, folded, as the doctor massages the place they once were. "I think he's just eager to get you back to the estate. Lord Quell has put a lot of trust in him to keep you safe –not to mention pressure."
"Today wasn't his fault."
"He won't see it that way, and Lord Quell probably won't either. At least Captain Roarg had been there today otherwise… well… That doesn't bear thinking about."
Gohan frowns. "I'm not incapable, Doctor. I've fought bigger and badder, you know."
"We still don't understand the situation as it is so we need to proceed carefully. These people–"
Zealites.
"–are after serving an unknown purpose." Doctor Jivel manages to hide his distress fairly well but Gohan can see through the cracks on this one. The deepening wrinkles atop the bridge of his nose breed. "You need to be aware of your surroundings, you need to practice caution, and most importantly, Gohan, you need to learn to say no to Lord Rixas when you think the occasion proves dangerous."
A surge of irritation floods him. "It wasn't his fault!"
The doctor's darkened expression gives way just a bit and the tickle of a smile can be seen, tempted. "Lord Rixas is an excitable person, and that excitement often leads him into difficult situations. Don't let the blind lead the blind, you're smarter than that."
That makes me blind too… Gohan purses his lips, unhappy. I suppose I am right now.
"When you recall more memories and get a better sense of yourself then I'm sure you won't have to deal with either of your brothers' overprotectiveness."
Gohan wouldn't call Quell overprotective. In fact, he'd call Quell a lot of things he's sure his mother would disapprove of. That guy makes Gohan want to bury his head and never come out ever again. And whilst he's at avoiding the god, he can also pretend that that strange faceless attacker also doesn't exist. Just what the heck is this place? Why are there so many disturbing people?
"Right," Gohan stands, still feeling indignant. "Got it."
Doctor Jivel also stands and leads the teenager to the door. "Have I made you unhappy?"
Gohan follows. "A little if I'm going to be honest."
The door opens and Gohan walks through it, leaving the doctor to hover about the frame. There's a tired smirk straining his smile. "What is this? In my absence have you become fond of Lord Rixas, Gohan?"
The question catches him off-guard and before Gohan can respond, the door shuts in his face.
Annoyingly, the question long lingers after he and Rixas leave the Squire infirmary. The two walk shoulder to shoulder along a highly populated street, one bristling with characters of all kinds. He remembers the experience of seeing them the first time he left the infirmary, and the excitement hasn't lessened any even now. The overwhelming diversity is such a shock that he can't stop staring at the variety of people going about their day. Most are wearing important-looking robes, others; armour all whilst a select few wear the more casual clothes like Gohan and Rixas have chosen.
The cityscape of the area boasts impressive architectural masterpieces like the Spire Infirmary, some which swoop along the horizon in asymmetric curves. They contrast the older style builds, ones which are reminiscent of the buildings found on the estate grounds. Silver against reddened, almost brown, brickwork creates a landscape of both old and new; the idealized gentrification. Remarkably, there is little in the way of traffic. Gohan recognizes the same dark type of car he'd taken to the estate in abundance but very little else. No public transport can be seen whatsoever, crazy considering the flying-ban enforced upon the inhabitants, and something which leaves him wondering how the society in this area works. There's clearly a hierarchy, one which he's apparently apart of, and there are people working in a variety of fields. Just what kind of lives do these people live—
"I can see the cogs in your head move," Rixas says, bumping at his shoulder. "You trying to create a plan of mass destruction in that giant brain of yours? Planning to bring down the entire universe?"
Gohan rolls his eyes. "Ha-ha. No, I'm just wondering how this place operates; if it's similar to Earth or– "
"Ugh, boring." Hands clap together when they pass a darkened alley along the street. "Oh, let's stop by here before we go home. Just don't tell Quell."
Before Gohan can protest, the blond has him by the forearm and is dragging him along the path. The alley starts to thin with each turn they make, and darker too as the street lighting (glowing an atmospheric purple) becomes more sparse. Gohan doesn't think that they're ever going to stop until Rixas plants him outside an ominous wooden door. A pause stretches out and he suspects that the idiot is trying to gauge a reaction from him. When Gohan refuses to act one way or another Rixas seems to give up and push the door ajar. The room comes into focus.
This is when a reaction erupts.
"A bar?!" Gohan calls out, "after everything, you've brought me to a bar? You're kidding, right?!"
"It's called The Wing and Sing and it just so happens to be my favourite karaoke bar," he says as he pulls Gohan along into the room. "We used to come here all the time before you become a vegetable."
"One, stop saying that! And two, I know for a fact that I wouldn't sing karaoke with you in any life time."
"Oh, you are remembering me." A hand presses against his heart. "How sweet. Exactly how you like your drinks by the way, now that's what I remember." Once they reach the dingy set up of a bar, Rixas slaps his hand down hard against the wood. "Hey, barkeep, get me and my brother two bottles of your berryade cidre."
The barkeep, a man of large proportions with a face resembling a disappointed bulldog, considers the blond with a raised eyebrow.
"Please," Rixas eventually adds, and to Gohan's upmost horror the man reaches down to the refrigerator and does as requested. "Thanks, Iger. Love ya."
"I'm too young to drink," Gohan hisses. "I'm seventeen."
"Look," the icy bottle is then thrust into Gohan's wavering hands, "we've had a rubbish day. I want a drink, and heaven knows how much you could do with relaxing a little. One drink won't kill you."
Gohan plants the beer down on the bar, stubborn. "I'm seventeen."
There's a smack of the lips as Rixas finishes half the bottle in one go. "Then it'll put some hairs on your chest. Have you ever even tried alcohol, Mori?"
"N-No, of course not."
Gohan peers around the mostly empty bar, paranoid. There are only a few patrons dotted around the darkened room; some are playing what looks like strange card game in the corner, others sit in couples talking in languages Gohan can't at all place. None of them are paying any attention to them whatsoever.
"No one here gives a shit," Rixas adds brightly. He takes a seat on a barstool and gestures for Gohan to do the same. "At least give it a taste. You never know, you might like it."
Gohan pushes the plopped down bottle further away just to prove a point. Doctor Jivel told him to start refusing the idiot so it might as well start here. Rixas looks between Gohan and the bottle before shrugging and taking another generous swig of his own drink.
The disappointment strangely affects the teenager, making him feel like he needs to defend himself. "I just got attacked by some—" Zealite; say it. Just say it. "Stranger. I don't really think you getting drunk is going to help the situation, Rixas."
The other bats a hand and chuckles into the neck of his drink. "It's one drink. We're stopping for one. It's hardly enough to throw a fit over. And hey, isn't it nice to have some different scenery?"
Looking back over his shoulder, Gohan spots what he thinks is a woman asleep on a mountain of beer cans.
"It's very… different."
Rixas laughs again and slaps him on back. "I meant the city. I saw your eyes go all misty and starstruck. I know you loved it."
Gohan can admit it. "Yeah, it's nice."
The other rolls his eyes, still amused. "Nice. What a crap word. The Almighty is one of the most wondrous and magical realms in all of existence. Gods, kais and all varieties of deities reside here in divine glory and all you can say is that it's… nice?"
"You did bring me to a dive bar."
Rixas slams the bottle down. "So you do know what this place is!"
They both laugh at the accusation, and even though Gohan's drink goes untouched he starts to slowly enjoy his time away from the estate, away from the pressures of having to remember being someone he's not. Rixas, as usual, is fun and lively company, and unsurprisingly, one drink turns into two and then three. When Rixas orders his fourth cidre and Gohan's second water he doesn't even look any warier for it.
"I can handle a drink," he says. "You, on the other hand, aw man, you're done after three. I'm guessing it's something to do with your weaker body. Famis was the same, and Quell can drink more than I can so I think our tolerances are definitely affected by that."
Gohan leans forward over the bar. "What do you mean?"
"Mmm…" He raps his fingers along the wooden top. "I'm not sure how much I should tell you but I can't really see this hurting anything. Basically, out of the four of us brothers only two were born to be physical fighters. I mentioned to you a while ago that you were shit hot with ki –and you were, but also, you could never fight like I can, or Quell can. Famis was talented in the art of magic. His spell casting was just awesome but the poor guy couldn't throw a punch to save his life, rest his soul."
Gohan realises something. "And that's why you've been excited about sparring with me, right?"
"Ah, you got me." Rixas raises his bottle. "I think you always wanted to be able to fight like Quell and I could, but you never could keep up. As weak as you are now I think you've got some promise to catch up. When you learn how to tap into your ki again I think you'll be my perfect training buddy."
You and my dad are soul mates. Fact.
But then Rixas sighs and the mood deflates along with him. "But who knows how long we'll be able to keep at it, y'know? Quell is going to freak when Doctor Jivel sends him your report. He hates the idea of you fighting as it is. Now he's going to kick up even more of a fuss. Agh, what a mess. All this over some stupid Zeali–" His eyes trail over to Gohan to assess the damage, pausing. Gohan, in turn, pretends to know nothing, understand less. "Ugh, it's not like you're stupid even with the brain damage. You know a bit about the Zealites, right?"
Somewhat ashamed, the teenager takes a sip of his water before replying. "A bit."
"Well, that's about as much as we know anyway so don't sweat it." Rixas brushes his hand through the wavy blond mess and gages Gohan for a period. The gold of his eyes truly dazzle for a moment. "Did that guy freak you out –that Zealite?"
He's worried about me.
Instead of the usual guilt associated with Rixas' brotherly affection there's now a rush of warmth. Gohan smiles at the god. "I'm fine. I think Captain Roarg scared them off."
Rixas guffaws. "Yeah, probably. Heaven knows that she scares the shit out of me when she gets mad."
"She scares me a little, I think," Gohan readily admits.
"Oh yeah?" Rixas quirks a lopsided grin as he pinches at the teenager's chin. "I get the impression that girls just scare you in general."
"I have a girlfriend!"
"Of course you do, sweetie-pie."
"I do!" Gohan hates the way the idiot keeps laughing and laughing, but still, he can't stop himself from cracking a smile at it all. Whilst he can be the subject of teasing at school it really does feel lighter with Rixas. Just as he's about to joke back does the god lean in, expression sombre.
"In all seriousness, the Zealites really are big question marks to us. We don't know who they are or what danger they pose, and not just to us, but to the kais and surrounding gods and angels alike. So listen well when I say it's really in your best interest to work on your memories. The sooner you regain some of yourself the sooner you can protect yourself. I… I can't stick by your side forever, little brother. You're going to have to step up."
"Rixas…"
A hand rests on the top of Gohan's shoulder. "Eventually, word will get out about Mori's, your, return and you'll have to be ready. We're not without enemies. The lives we lead; us three; me, you and Quell, they're complicated and full of unknowns. We need you to be savvy… we can't lose you again."
Mouth dry, the teenager doesn't know what to say. Denying Rixas right now looks like it would kill him.
"I know you hated using the serenity candle but I'm pretty sure you got something out of it, didn't you? You're gonna' have to open your mind to some new stuff. Then when you know a bit more I can get you trained up in order to protect yourself."
Gohan exhales a deep breath as he tries to mull over the words. It's hard for him because this is just asking too much. Even if his dad had asked this much of him Gohan isn't sure he'd be able to live up to it. "I really don't want to do drugs, Rixas. It's not in my nature. I'm not that way… and, really… you talk about training me but I'm not a passionate fighter either. I practice with my dad and my little brother because it's something we bond over. It's a hobby at best, and certainly not a passion. When I fight seriously it's only to protect those I care about and the Earth, not because I have a taste for it or love using my energy. Using ki is a means to an end, and really, it probably causes more harm than good." He pauses and then regards his friend. "I fight for justice and I fight for my family."
Rixas furrows his brow. It's a delicate move, and his voice is soft. "But we're your family."
"My family is on Earth… and I want to get home to them… that's why I'm doing this, for them." An uneasy, nervous laugh escapes from Gohan's lips. "I mean, I do want to help you… but…" His voice trails off and Rixas sighs, eyes as heavy as the atmosphere around them.
"That's a lot for some Earth kid," Rixas finally comments.
Gohan nods, still contemplative when his forgotten cidre is slid back towards him. He looks up to see Rixas regarding him with tired amusement.
"You're going to need this going forward, trust me. It's only gonna' get harder."
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Once again, thanks to KagariAsuha for Beta-ing this chapter. She's a good egg. My brain turned to mush in the latter half and she tidied up my mess like a woman after my own heart. Also thanks for all the reviews, and very much to the guest reviews who I can't personally reply to -and the PMS I still need to reply to. I've come down with a wee bit of sickness so I'm a bit pants at replying at the moment. I bashed this chapter out just because it's been niggling at me for a while to finish.
I noticed one of the reviews had said that they're Chinese and it blew my mind! Readers in China -grand! Hey, man! Sending love from Shenzhen.
Ok, er, in regards to the story... er... I don't have much to say because brainmush has truly taken me and that we're still at an opening stage in the fic. Yes, 50K in and we're still opening up, haha. It's going to be a long one. I've planned twenty something chapters already and I consider that around about my 3/5ths point. But in typical Bonsim style it might end up being longer.
Oh, this just in, I've just been reminded to mention power levels. Okay. So, DBZ community. Let's talk. I hate them. Oh so much. I think that Toriyama threw them about with zero meaning other than 'wow strong'. That's cool. I dig that energy. However it doesn't really help with writing cohesive storytelling, and I won't be relying on them. Characters like Rixas, Quell, Gohan, Goku, Vegeta... they won't be judged on numbers. Just because Vegeta can hit harder it doesn't mean he's fast enough to catch Gohan, ya dig? I want to put more emphasis on skill rather than whatever a scouter says.
And that's all from me. Catch you on the next installment. I'd love to hear your thoughts so far!