The Horse with No Name

Chapter Eleven

Inebriation

Age 776

?, The Globe Bar

"Shut up, shut up. He's lying. Oh my god, he's lying." Gohan slaps a palm over the idiot's yammering trap, but the damage is done and the group around the table is laughing. Gohan is laughing too.

"Goodness gracious me, do I look like the sort?" Rixas plays to his audience. A chorus of heckles follow just as he goes to finish his story. "What? You don't believe me?"

"They don't believe you because you're a rotten liar," Gohan tells him, effectively shouting. It's loud in here. Music thumps around the bar with its techno beat. He's surprised he can even hear himself speak.

One of the girls on Rixas' arm says something inaudible, but Gohan notices Rixas laugh for her anyway. Meanwhile, the girl on the other side of him reaches over and snags a sip of his drink. Rixas doesn't mind. If anything, he seems pleased by it. His eyes have that sultry look about them, the look which tells Gohan that he could very well be returning back home to the estate alone tonight.

But that's not down to the lack of effort of the girl on Gohan's right. Her arm has brushed his at least three times in the last five minutes. How many times does he need to shuffle away? It happens again and Rixas notices. The sly smirk makes the teenager want to reach over the table and throttle the ass.

Gohan stands and scuttles past the girl and out of their booth. "Bathroom," he hollers, and Rixas just nods. The girl Gohan leaves looks mollified once she's pulled into his brother's growing harem.

He actually doesn't go to the bathroom at all, instead choosing to order another drink from the bar. The trendy barkeep already has the bottle in his hand before Gohan arrives, and so the teenager takes the icy beverage and strolls on by. The guy knows to add it to Rixas' tab. They're here often enough.

Gohan enjoys the numbing sensation that comes with the first glug. It's not bitter at all. In fact, there's a sweet undertone that makes him think that he might be drinking a fruit beer; like he'd know. Gohan typically drinks whatever Rixas suggests to him –apparently the guy has a gift for understanding Gohan's taste buds better than even he does.

He walks through around the bar. It's busy tonight, busier than usual. Dense crowds of dancers occupy the dance floor near the speakers. With varied levels of sobriety, they throw shapes in sync with the music and lambast limbs all over one another. Gohan continues, and it's in the depths of darkness that he finds a character completely out of place, and with great amusement, he takes his spot beside her. The woman turns with a tired sort of expression, raising exactly one brow. A flash of colour douses her pink and blue when the lights flash in their direction.

Gohan grins and offers her a drink of beer. When she shakes her head he's not at all surprised, shrugs and then takes another sip.

"Roarg, you look really conspicuous," he tells her in the sweet silence between songs. "Like you're waiting to mug someone."

"I might very well do just that," she says. "What, with this boredom." The music starts back up and Gohan waggles his beer in her face again. She pushes it away and gives him an annoyed sort of look Gohan knows she doesn't really mean. "I'm working," she has to shout when Gohan insists further.

He pulls a face and retreats his offer. "You can have one."

"What?"

His voice rises. "You can have one!"

She gives him a strained smile, one admitting to having heard none of what he'd just said. There's a flex of the hand as she gestures him away. Go have fun, she'd tell him if the music wasn't loud enough to burst ear drums.

And he is having fun. He's dressed in something other than stuffy robes; a loose top and a pair of dark pants. The loss of weighted cloaks feels strange each time he goes without now.

Yes, it's great being away from the Realm of the Almighty, and somewhere they're not recognized. Whenever Gohan would attend check-ups at the Infirmary or go along with Rixas to the centre, they'd be known. Here? They're invisible. Over the last few weeks they've been coming to this watering hole regularly. Rixas won't tell Gohan how he'd persuaded Quell to let them go, but Gohan has a feeling it's to do with having someone always stand guard as they drink.

Yet, the Globe Bar feels safe enough. And when was the last time anyone had attacked? The last person to try anything was that Zealite a couple years back. They're fine. Gohan's sure of it.

He takes another swig from his bottle and heads back over to the table –not alone, of course. He brings shots.

"I'm paying for them, aren't I?" Rixas asks when Gohan sits down with the tray.

"Yes and thank you for buying top shelf." He passes his brother a shot which Gohan believes to be filled to the brim with glitter.

"Wow, I'm so generous."

Gohan distributes shots to the small crowd at the table. The usual vultures come swarming and so he passes them some too. One burly guy snakes an arm around Gohan's neck and cheers his name –not his real one of course.

Gohan gave the name Mort if only because it's close enough to Mori that he'd respond.

"To Rex and Mort," they call.

Rixas sends Gohan a look of amusement, and they both down their shots. It's like drinking fire. Gohan coughs and the burly guy slaps him on the back. The girl from before has managed to find her way back to him too. She slinks up to him with arms like an excitable octopus; they roll up and down his back as though it's her first time encountering one. Gohan recoils as if burned. He presses another shot into her hand for her troubles, and makes his way over to where Rixas is not so subtly laughing at him.

"Shush," he tells him, "move up. Let me sit."

Rixas looks between the two girls either side of him. "I don't think I will. I'm pretty good over here."

"Rix—Rex…"

He smiles back, blinking innocently. "Mort, go make friends. She looks friendly."

The girl gives him a predatory grin from over the other side of the table. "Too friendly," he grumbles.

Rixas then shrugs, now absolved from helping the teenager. Gohan shakes his head and sips his drink. The next time Gohan turns to him, the animal has his tongue down one of the girl's throat.

"Great."

It's later, in the alley behind the bar that Rixas tipsily brings it back up. Gohan and Roarg were tasked in collecting the drunkard after Gohan had noticed his two lady-friends leaving. If Rixas had indeed done the deed with one of them it must have been somewhere in this dingy area.

From the look on his face, he most certainly had. What a pig.

"You're disgusting," Gohan says when he collects him from the floor.

In rebuttal, he bops Gohan's nose. "You're a virgin."

"R-Right." Gohan sees no shame in denying it. Admitting it in front of Roarg does make him oddly uncomfortable however. Dutifully, she makes not a sound.

"See, that explains it," Rixas continues wisely from his position over Gohan's shoulder. "You've never had a girlfriend so you're scared of girls."

"You know I had a girlfriend."

"Sure you did, my little cherry."

"Please don't say that," Roarg finally comments. "It is highly disturbing."

"Agreed, and as the designated driver of this piggyback I get to veto your creepy behaviour."

"Seems fair."

"Water," she then offers. As the water bottle passes hands Gohan can't help but feel a little jealous. Why does Rixas get the good assistant? All Myra is going to do when they get home is berate him. She's been extra sour recently –she hates him going out as much as he does. All she does is complain. Quell this, Quell that. Really, Gohan feels like she just secretly hates his happiness.

Water slops down Gohan's shoulder as the dolt glugs it like a man dying of thirst. He smacks his lips after he's done and then presses his face into the crook of Gohan's neck. Brandy breath warms his collarbones. "Not that you'd know but sex is thirsty work."

Gohan recoils. "Don't be so crude."

"Heh, heh…"

Roarg steps forward before Gohan has time to drop him on his ass. "Do you want me to take him?"

He shuffles his brother up. "No, it's fine. I'll carry the pig."

"You love me."

"Like a tumour."

"Don't be so wet. If you're a good horsey then I'll give you a bottle of the sweet red you like when we get home."

"You better."

Arms circle around Gohan's neck and Rixas settles in for his usual comfortable ride home. If the guy could purr he would.

"Let's parade the strip, brother. I want the peasants to bask in my afterglow."

This time, Gohan does drop him to his ass. There's a grunt on impact, and the teenager acknowledges Roarg with a strained smile. "Yeah, alright. You take him."

Gohan's hiding from Myra again. His hiding place isn't very original, and she'd most definitely find him should she really try. But that would involve her going somewhere most distasteful, a place she would rather burn than enter a pinkie-toe. It's a place even Gohan rarely visits if only down to the absolute state it's usually in. Right now, he hides in Rixas' room, more precisely; his bed.

"Water," Rixas rasps into his pillow. "Or death. Pick one but make it fast."

Gohan crosses his legs and re-angles his book for comfier reading. Ignoring Rixas' very noisy hangover comes easier to him than Myra's squawking, but he does pass the invalid a bottle of water out of kindness. There'll be a day when Rixas will have to repay it, he supposes.

The bottle crackles as Rixas squeezes the contents free. The water is vacuumed. He discards the bottle and crawls over to the teenager's section of the bed. His grabby hands appear needier than usual.

"Why did you bring shots?"

"Why is your tolerance for alcohol so low?" Gohan counters. "Aren't you millions of years old?"

"I'm weak," he sobs. "I'm such a weak man. Oh why, Mori? Why did you bring the cursed shots?"

"I'm fine."

"That's because you sip your drinks like a lady of the court."

He clambers over and rests his head against Gohan's forearm, stinking up the place with the awful concoction of morning breath and dehydration. He shoves the idiot away. "Go back to sleep."

"I can't. The world is spinning. Read me a story."

"It won't interest you, there aren't any pictures. It's about ki and its dangers. I don't think you'll like it anyway, and we'll just argue about semantics as usual."

"That's because you're wrong. It's the ki user who is dangerous –not ki."

"Pretty sure the user wouldn't be dangerous without ki."

"It's a right."

"It's a hazard."

Rixas rolls back to his side of the bed, huffing. "Ugh, it's too early for this. I hope Myra bursts in and takes you away."

Gohan laughs, licks a finger and turns the page. If Rixas hadn't been so busy with his conveyer belt of admirers last night then he might not have consumed everything blindly placed before him. The guy always overdoes it. Maybe Gohan should return the favour to see how he likes it. They've been going to bars and clubs for months now and Gohan's yet to be the one thrown over a shoulder like a used and abused duffle bag. Whilst it'd been some getting used to; seeing Rixas at his worst, or best depending on who you ask, Gohan's found that going out is the far better alternative to rotting away inside his library all day. They train, they play, Gohan reads and is bothered by his assistant, Rixas… does other Rixas things, and then they repeat the cycle.

It's not the life Gohan would have chosen but… he's living…

He's living, mortal and proudly so, and is going to mortal places to be amongst them. If Rixas can then so can Gohan. It's here in these foreign places that Gohan can breathe, that the weight of the Almighty lessens, that for the first time he was able to truly sense the energy signature of Rixas. Animalistic and hot, it runs with a flavour entirely Rixas. How wonderful it had felt. With the strange relationship the Almighty has with ki, Gohan hasn't been able to sense anyone properly in months and months. Feeling everyone around him had been like plunging into ice water. He'd felt… so alive, so alive and connected to the universe. Still, Gohan recognizes that he must keep his own energy subdued. That'd been the deal. Gohan keeps his ki low or he stays home.

That'd been Rule One. Rule Two is not to bring anyone back to the Realm of the Almighty, hook up or not. Whilst this isn't a problem for Gohan, Rixas seems to struggle -most certainly the reason Gohan often finds him in precarious situations with men, women and anything resembling a bipedal. The dark crevices of clubs and bars are the pig's favourite.

Said pig is apparently a mind reader. "Say, remember that girl from last night?" he asks.

"Which one? You had many-"

"No, the one who liked you."

Gohan purses his lips, brows knotting. His book lowers and he finds Rixas watching him with a strange sort of expression. He doesn't like it. "Liked me?"

"You know, the girl. Blonde. At the table. Shots. You ran away with your willy tucked between your legs."

Gohan hits him with the book. "Stop being gross."

"But you remember her, right?"

"Right…" He doesn't like where he's going with this.

"She was pretty hot."

"Mm…"

"And clearly liked you-"

"Rixas, just say what you want to say."

"Okay, fine." He flops up, suddenly energetic. Hands clasp together over the bundle of duvet. "Why do you keep cock-blocking yourself? I just don't get why you won't accept a good thing when it's being thrown into your lap. Oh, or are you asexual? You weren't before."

"I had a girlfriend!" he repeats for what must be the hundredth time. Rixas snorts. The guy still doesn't believe him. The teenager grits his teeth and slams his book shut. "You want this discussion? Fine. Alright. I didn't…" he coughs, flushing pink, "take her up on her o-offer because I'm not a total degenerate. I wasn't raised so… to be so liberal with that kind of stuff."

Unimpressed, Rixas is blank faced. "Sex?"

Gohan's brow twitches. "Yes, that."

"Man, talk about being repressed. Just where were you living before? A convent? Eh -Oh, oh, Mori, don't go. Come back. I was kidding."

"You're being an asshole. Nope. I don't want to talk about this now." He's already up and out of the bed. Myra be damned, he'd rather that than this.

"Eh, why not?" He manages to grab Gohan's shirt before he's gone. It takes a lot not to bring the book down hard on the idiot's head. "You're a big boy. How old are you –like, er, the new you? The Gohan you."

The book twitches in anticipation. "I don't know… Nineteen, I think," he grumbles.

"Eh?"

Gohan almost slaps himself. "Probably nearly sixty, in Almighty time."

"Okay," Rixas says in a soothing tone that's supposed to calm him. "Alright. Sixty. That's not too young, you know, for this stuff." He pulls lightly enough that Gohan feels compelled to sit back down. "Why does it freak you out so much?"

"It d-doesn't." But it does, and Gohan doesn't know why –except, maybe he does a little bit. And Rixas isn't as dim as he appears. He gets people in a way Gohan doesn't, and he gets Gohan in a way Gohan doesn't too. So of course he sees right through him.

"Are you religious or something?"

"No, it's nothing like that."

"Scared?"

Gohan scratches at his hair. Gosh, it needs a cut—

"That's it? You're scared?"

"No," he replies quickly, "I mean, yes but only a normal healthy amount, I think. But… like I keep saying, I had a girlfriend back on Earth. Rixas, I, uh, I really liked her. I loved her, you know."

"Loved." Rixas parrots slowly, "So you don't now?"

"N –ye… I don't know. Yes. I think so? I don't know. She's… probably forgotten all about me now already anyway."

"So this is about… a girl?"

"Videl," he says in a small voice. "I… we weren't together long but… I just think of her when all these girls try anything with me. I think of how we'd never go to these kinds of places, and how I've become seedy, and how we'd just have picnics together or cloud gaze. We would do our homework together too. She… We…" His words perish, and Gohan's bluer for it. He feels younger than the first day he'd arrived in this prison.

His brother leans over, running a hand up and down the back of the teenager's neck. "You know what they say? Yesterday is not ours to recover, but tomorrow is ours to win or lose –and that goes for love too, Mori. You let go of that life, remember?"

"I know," he breathes. "I let go but it feels wrong to look at anyone the way I looked at Videl. She's the only girl I've ever felt anything for."

"Jeez, you don't need to whip out an engagement ring or anything. It's just sex. Sex is a completely natural and, if I do say so, beautiful thing. It's the connection between two people –or three or four depending on what you're into."

Gohan spares a look of disdain.

"Don't knock until you try it, is all I'm saying." He laughs. "And stop being a shitty prude. I'll have you know that before you regressed into being a monk you definitely enjoyed a healthy amount of company."

"Stop. Please stop."

"So yeah, sweetie, you lost your virginity long before you even met, what's she called? Videl?" His eyes dazzle with a mischievous golden sparkle. "I'm sure the bout of handholding and stolen kisses were life changing but don't you think it's time to take the next step? Like you said, she's gonna' move on herself. Your life is dead there. It's time to live here, and live you could."

His chest hurts as it always does when he thinks about home—no, Earth, because Earth hasn't been his home in years now. The Almighty is his home. Rixas is his brother. Mori is his name. Even with Gohan leaving the realm, he couldn't ever go home and return to who he was. Not only would Quell come and ruin everything, drag him back, make him remember his place, but he would quite possibly kill Gohan's friends and family whilst he's at it. Gohan doesn't remember much about Quell but he feels, instinctively, that Quell is not someone to cross.

"You're not going to see her again," Rixas says, "so you're just punishing yourself for no reason. And really, are you sure it's not just another way for you to claw onto your old life?"

It most certainly is that.

"See it this way," he then continues, and the teenager turns with a hunger for any good advice. Rixas appears especially earnest. "Some of us think holding on makes us strong. But sometimes, it's letting go. There's no right answer, but I know which one will hurt more in the long run."

Gohan swallows. He nods, "Right."

"Remember: head high, chin up, and legs apart."

The book smacks the idiot hard across the temple.

Gohan considers this all fate when, that night, he has his first full-scale flashback in the form of a very cohesive dream. Similar to his other flashbacks of fleeting quality, Gohan's in the driver's seat of Mori's body, except the car is self-driving and he's actually just there for the ride.

Something Gohan had noticed the first time, which doesn't escape notice this time either, is that Mori seemed to love looking through a curtain of blonde hair. It's annoying, and Gohan would do anything to be able to control his hands to tug it behind his ears. On this principle alone, Gohan hates the guy. Beyond the waves of mane, he can just about make sense of the location. Mori is in the garden, hidden under the shade of a tree long gone, with a book Gohan's sure he recognizes. It's dense and intimidating-looking, with a red bind and gold-edged pages. Mori's not reading now however. No, he's currently spectating something Gohan has yet to see himself; Rixas and Quell training.

This must have been the courtyard many a year ago because it looks to be in far better condition. Grooves of decay have yet to appear on the walls and the surrounding fences are proud and lofty, definitely not like the wild foliage which has absorbed the area today. It's in the centre of this where Rixas and Quell are exchanging a flurry of hand-to-hand attacks. They duck, weave, cross, dodge and move so smoothly around each other that they could be dancing. Gohan finds it mesmerizing in its own right, and Mori must too because he's not looking away. Gohan doesn't think he even blinks.

It's strange seeing Quell like this as well. He's usually stiff and delicate, and sturdy and graceful all the same time. But here, it's different. No longer does he wear the heavy layers of robes Gohan has to wear, but instead he dresses for liberation of movement in the style of a sleeveless gi. It's tight against the skin, only growing loose from the midriff down after meeting a secure obi, all in colours best reprehensive of Quell. He's always loved his white and gold, after all. Still, it looks good. Quell suits it, Quell suits fighting as much as Rixas does. It looks as natural as breathing to the both of them.

"You have been training, brother," Quell says, skidding back against the dirt. Clouds of dust steady behind him.

Rixas is huffing and puffing like Gohan's never seen him before. "You bet," he manages, "who showed you that casting punch?"

Quell is as smug as to be expected. "Are you impressed by me?"

Rixas snorts and rubs at his nose. He's smirking. "I'd be more impressed if you defeated me with hand-to-hand combat alone. You've always got to get freaky with the ki."

"Oh, do behave. You know I do not need ki to defeat you."

"Arm wrestle! C'mon, me and you."

Quell laughs. It's a short bark coming from the back of the mouth, something which makes Gohan think the guy sounds like a complete toff. "Bore off. A troll can hit harder than the knight but it's still always the latter's victory."

"Ehhh, what does that even mean? Let me go get the swords. We can-"

"Really," Quells sighs. He's moved to unfasten the practical knot atop his head. Blonde quickly sweeps all the way down his back, possibly longer than it is currently. "Have we not trained enough today? I have yet to meet with Famis. We are entertaining several kais and their disciples today, and I would rather not host stinking of that most repulsive salve after we end up slicing each other open."

Rixas groans, pestering and pestering –and it's during this familiar white noise that Gohan realises that Famis is still alive at this point. Gohan doesn't know much about the forth brother (chronologically second), the one who'd mysteriously died thousands of years back. He only knows that it had been murder and that Quell is still rather sensitive about the entire ordeal. Rixas doesn't bring it up either, and from what little Roarg or Myra can tell him, it was most likely before their time. Gohan can only consult his library on the matter, and even that seems to tell him very little. It seems that Famis had been poisoned, and that's all to be known.

Well, that and that Gohan knew Famis wasn't a fighter in the same way Mori had not been. Famis had had a talent for magic, whilst Mori utilized ki. Whereas Quell and Rixas had been the aggressors, it seems Famis and Mori had different, less-forceful positions.

Gohan is then reminded of Mori's openness from an earlier acquired memory, one where he'd thought about learning more about martial arts. He'd been interested.

"You could have used your quad crush to end things sooner," Gohan finds his mouth saying. His voice sounds the same but there's a smooth element to it now, a soft confidence.

Quells turns and Gohan's surprised to see the faint outline of a smile. "I could have. Well spotted."

"Don't go helping him!" Rixas complains. He's absolutely no different at all.

Mori stands and Gohan feels himself moving along with him as he approaches Quell. Despite this, his words are for Rixas. "Your back hand strike was embarrassing. Sloppy doesn't begin to cover it."

"Ehhh, Mori!"

"Your book," Mori then says to the eldest brother, offering exactly that. "Thank you. I cannot say that I am overly fond of fiction but I found the tale intriguing. The happy ending surprised me. To be honest, I'm astounded you enjoy it so."

Quell takes the book back and smiles –smiles! Gohan nearly drops dead on the spot. He doesn't even look like the same person, as though someone had appropriated his image for their own nefariously benevolent deeds.

"Yes, well," he begins, the cold snootiness dissolving into something warmer, golden eyes oddly open. "Embarrassing as it is, I rather enjoy it."

"I enjoyed yours and Rixas' fight much more," Mori praises further. "I do wish to watch you more often. Your casting punch is spectacular, especially when you rapid fire it."

Quell peacocks. "Wait until you see it when I charge it with the pressure. Then you'll be impressed."

But Mori already is. There's a stirring inside the body, and whilst Gohan can't emotionally feel it, he's able to sense it. He's able to understand.

"Wah. Where's my love, little brother? My attacks are way stronger."

"Hush, Rixas. I'm lapping up the praise. Heavens know I'll need it before dealing with today."

Rixas makes a face behind the elder's back, but Mori seems more exasperated by the action than amused. What does get his attention is when Rixas proposes to collect Mori's sword for him, and an offer of a duel. Mori's heart flips at the idea, but Quell's less keen. Rixas runs in the direction of the weaponry anyway.

"Such dangerous work," Quell says, clicking his tongue. "Wouldn't you rather be studying, Mori? Physical activity is hardly your forte."

"I have always been keen on fencing, brother," he replies silkily, "I enjoy the leisure of it."

"Must you?" Mori stares him out, and to Gohan's great shock; Quell sighs, relenting. "Hmm… Very well…"

"Rixas never uses his full strength."

"I should hope not," he says very much like the Quell of late. Next, he moves to swipe his fingers through the long strands of blonde –again, another very Quell move. His gaze drops over to where he spots Rixas returning with two swords. "I do wish you would choose hobbies not akin to putting anything sharper than a spoon into his hands. It does worry me."

Mori's smile feels easy, slick like oil. "I'll be fine."

"Then you know where to find me should an incident occur." He turns to collect a robe from the ground in a very similar fashion to how Gohan would on his training days with Rixas. "Be well. Don't let him mentally devalue you too much in my absence."

"Oi," Rixas growls upon his return. He points both swords at the elder brother. "Come take me on then, you colossal cheater! No pressure! No ki! Just me and you!"

But Quell's long gone. He's made his way up the pathway on foot and has disappeared into an alley most likely leading to his ward.

"What an asshole," Rixas says, but there's a big grin plastered on his stupid face.

Gohan wants to smile at it, wants to return it in full. Mori, however, just reaches for one of the swords and twirls it in his grasp. It's smooth and comfortable to hold, with a decent sized hilt Gohan's not seen on a sword in a long while. The training one Rixas has him use isn't great. Even to him it feels flimsy. Yet this one, hilt gold along the framework and bottom, but red otherwise, sings a familiar song. It's like Gohan really can recognize it, and not just from the depths of Mori's cloudy memories.

Mori swings the sword back, his posture following. The weight of the thing is so great that the only time Gohan's reminded of was when, back on the Planet of the Kais, he'd managed to free the—

And that's when he wakes up, breathing hard and feeling nauseous.

The Z Sword.

Gohan wastes zero time asking Rixas about it. The next morning, he dresses and dashes along the flowery paths of the estate. He takes steps in threes and fours and flies the remaining feet upon spotting Rixas doing his morning stretches. He's in the courtyard already, looking so similar to how he'd done in Gohan's dream last night.

Rixas waves. "Good morning, don't you look energetic this mor-"

His words drop, as does the smile -and Gohan's soon to see why. A clawed hand digs into the teenager's arm and he's yanked back hard.

"Oh no, you don't!"

Gohan's body flops back, and then he sees his pursuer.

Myra…

"You are scheduled with Doctor Hezk this morning, Lord Mori," she tells him crisply.

Her grip on him is too strong and he's hauled back along the path he'd just taken. Rixas sends him off with a sympathetic smile and salute, as if he's going down with ship. Maybe he is. Maybe Gohan's due to sink lower and lower until all he can see is Myra's stupid blue head bobbing above him with fresh orders.

Gohan doesn't fight when she actually gets him. There's been many a time that he's hidden or escaped her wrath, and won the battle. Terribly, this new and very wicked part of him enjoys watching Myra storm off in a huff when that happens. Today is no such day and so he complies all the way to the solarium, the one east and coupled with the library. It's also the one he and Doctor Hezk meet in on a semi regular basis. It'd actually been her to suggest meeting here instead of his living space. At first he'd been unsure because Gohan values the privacy, but they're rarely bothered here. Occasionally does Gohan spot an odd-looking fellow tending the plants in the garden but that's it.

Gohan also doesn't mind because it's bright and airy and very unlike his quarters. When things get too heavy he can zone out and stare across the acres of land, he can enjoy the view.

One view he doesn't enjoy is the hungry look Hezk is giving him this morning.

"Hello," he grumbles at her as he sits opposite. The impressive armchair engulfs him whole.

"Oh! I'm happy to see you this morning," she says, which is Doctor Hezk for 'wow, you actually turned up'.

"Uh, yeah." A wave of sudden mischief overcomes him. "I had to convince Myra to let me come," he then follows up with, and the reaction is worth it. His assistant looks close to suffering a hernia, cheeks round like two little blueberries ready to burst.

"Now, why do I find that hard to believe?" Doctor Hezk replies, pulling out her notebook. She flicks through all the notes she's tallied on him. It's enough to fill most of it now. "Let's see… that last time we met-"

You turned up.

"-was three weeks ago."

Gohan scratches at the back of his head, sheepish. "I guess it's been a while."

"It has," solidifies Myra, angry in the doctor's stead. "You have a schedule for a reason, Lord Mori. I believe that if you looked at it a bit more often than you do you'll see that-"

"Yes, yes, thank you," Hezk dismisses. She wags an irritated pen at her, gesturing to the door. "Please do close it on your way out. It's a bit chilly today."

The teenager bites his bottom lip, trying not to laugh. He can't help the escaping titter when Myra makes her girlish 'hmph' noise that she does before turning, head high, and leaving the room without so much a glance back.

Hezk clicks her pen and smiles. It's a hunter's smile. "Let's get started."

Gohan gulps and thinks about the bottle of red he'd swiped from Rixas the other night. He promises that if he can get through this then he'll treat himself to a glass. It's like drinking caramel, and the indulgence will make this so much easier to forget.

It's business with her in a heartbeat. "Will it be much of a stretch to ask if you finished the task I set you?" His face must be a blank because she elaborates. "The journal."

Gohan looks anywhere but at her.

The smile drops. "I see," she sighs, pinching the space between her eyes.

"I'm sorry."

"Writing down your memories is the best thing you can do to help us create a linier narrative of it all," Hezk informs, but it sounds a little like she's scolding him. Gohan bristles at it a little. "Once we're able to form a semblance of a timeline then you'll better be able to call up on others."

"I know…"

"Your notes don't need to be impeccably detailed, Gohan, just something to help you keep track."

"I'll write more," he promises, even if it's just to get her off of his back. Her disappointment lessens and he knows what to say next to further help his case. "I had a dream last night actually –it'd been a longer memory than usual."

Christmas has come early for the doctor, her eyes pop open and she scoots up on closer in her chair. "Bird's eye. No, wait, first person viewing?"

"Yeah, that. Like I was him. It'd been really weird in that I actually felt everything Mori did –to a lesser degree, but I understood the emotions all the same, I think. Just more subdued…"

"Ahuh. Any aftereffects? Nausea? Dizziness? Oh! How about lingering emotions perhaps?"

"Nausea. It went away after a while though."

She scribbles something down in the notebook almost feverishly, and Gohan knows that he's been absolved of earlier sins. At one point, Gohan thinks that she might stab through the paper. Eventually, she peers up. "And this was your first one? Dream, I mean."

"Yeah."

"Okay, tell me about it."

And he does. He tells her everything he can remember –which is quite a lot, mind. She tells him so and is clearly impressed. Once again, she presses on about him keeping a diary of these memories and dreams, and about how it'll make a difference in the end. Yet Gohan doesn't feel comfortable with it. It's odd. The idea of writing it all down feels so… wrong. Gohan's not a private person by nature; he's always been a bit of an open book and so it's strange that it feels so off to share.

And still, he does. He also tells her about the Z Sword.

"Wait." She holds up a hand between them, and Gohan stops mid-story. "This is the same sword you freed back on the Planet of the Kais? For certain? Are you sure?"

Gohan scratches his arm. "Yeah… I'm a hundred percent sure. "

She runs the pen along her lip, and then turns her attention to the collection of notes she has on him. Page after page is flicked by and Gohan can only watch in daunting silence as she keeps him waiting.

"You know," the doctor eventually says, "I'm not overly surprised considering past circumstances."

Well, that's a bit cryptic. Gohan doesn't like where this is going. "What do you mean?"

"See here." And she shows her notes; they're all lined with terrible chicken scratch. There's an expectation of reaction from him but he can't make sense of it of all. "These highlighted bits here, Gohan; these are times that you've mentioned lapses in memory from your time on Earth. See. Look, you've actually talked about a few of them in detail. They usually constituted in a significant power increase, right? A power unearned."

Unearned is a bit harsh…

"Your energy level would rise astronomically, and you'd have enough power to defeat whatever foe you'd be facing. Convenient, right?" The pen clicks and points in his direction. It clicks and clicks and clicks as her face becomes rosy in excitement. "I may have a theory to what was happening."

The nervous laugh bubbles out before Gohan can swallow it. "Let me guess; you think that I've been calling upon Mori's power all along?" The laughter dies when Hezk makes no move to correct him. "Wait, you're joking."

"I'm not. Look at the facts. You charge your little saiyan head in to all these battles, unprepared and totally not qualified, and still end up surviving due to a sudden burst of power. It comes from an unknown source and you lose complete consciousness as it happens, or, at the most you, can remember very little."

"I just had a lot of power as a kid, is all. My dad said-"

She gives him a look like he's stupid. "Come now, Gohan. Let's remain objective."

"So, what? Okay, let's be objective." He folds his arms and leans further into the chair. "I would get these rushes of power when pushed into a corner. That's adrenaline, Hezk. Lots of people experience it during life-threatening situations."

"Enough to injure Frieza? Enough to do the things you did as a small child?" Hezk forgets herself as she does when the passion takes her. "Don't be so obtuse. You're ignoring the connections out of convenience -be open to the idea of it because it's a real possibility! Even today, you told me about this sword."

"That's got nothing to do with the black-ou-"

"Influence," she says simply.

He stares her down. "Influence."

"Yes. It's not at all uncommon for reincarnated souls to follow a certain path in their lives down to how they lived previously, be it job or perhaps their partner. Let's amplify that for you. Let's imagine how the reincarnated soul of a god would live with all that power whirling around inside. I'm no expert on ki but I imagine it must have been itching to see the light of day. Of course it was going to rear its head when it needed to. It would have been self-preservation -a reaction to the situation, one which would have been a normal response if it had still been the ki of Lord Mori of Revelation and not Gohan Son."

"And what's that got to do with influence –with the sword?"

"I'm glad you asked." She flashes him a not at all professional grin before turning around and rummaging through her bag. A modest book is produced. "A superior of mine wrote a lot about influencing in this book of hers. I'll leave it with you so you can have a read after I'm gone."

For the first time, Gohan has zero has intention of reading a book.

"In this book, she talks about those big decisions like I'd just mentioned. But she also talks about energy, something maybe you'll be more familiar with than I am. Ki bonds closely to the soul, and Lord Mori in particular apparently had a lot of the stuff. As you already know, he specialized in ki manifestation."

"Right."

"From what you told me about the Z Sword, it had recognized something in you for you to be able to free it. It'd recognized who you were –are."

Gohan scowls, something rotten and ugly stirring about in his chest. He doesn't like this at all. "I pulled out the sword as Gohan Son. It had nothing to do with Mori."

"It had everything to do with him! Don't you see? He's been guiding you! That sword was yours long before you found it on the Planet of the Kais!"

"He didn't guide me! The Supreme Kai took me there!"

"But you wouldn't have been able to free it without being who you are."

"We can't know that," he defends. "Just because the sword was his once upon a time ago, it doesn't mean that me freeing it was only down to our connection."

Her reply isn't steadfast. Instead, she raises a brow and runs the pen along her lip again. "Wow. Then that would be a heck of a coincidence, huh?"

The teenager huffs. "Don't patronise me."

"Gohan, see sense. The Z Sword was once Lord Mori's. As Gohan Son, you freed it when no-one else could because it answered to only one master, a master who was most likely shaped by its prior life's sway and decisions." It's stated so matter-of-factly that Gohan feels silly even arguing with her. "Ignoring these connections is like ignoring the bridge to progression."

God, he really hates her sometimes. He groans and runs his hands up and down his face, pulling at the skin, running over his eyes, massaging where the headache is now growing.

"The Z Sword confirms what I've been thinking for a long while," Hezk coolly tells him, notebook in lap, now closed. "Your life as Gohan Son has been interwoven with Lord Mori's ever since its conception."

Gohan breathes a haggard breath and opens one eye between his fingers. He regards her, feeling growingly exasperated with it all. "You're saying that Mori's been controlling my life all along? That's it, right?"

The fact that she doesn't says no says everything to him.

Gohan feels the slick of steel slice through his arm. His own sword clatters to the ground, and he swears, catching the wound to stop the pooling of blood.

"That was dirty," he hisses.

"It was," Rixas agrees. He lowers his weapon, smirking. "When have I ever fought otherwise?"

The comment ruffles Gohan's feathers for some reason. "Do you have no honour?" He clicks his tongue when he removes his hand. The red is running thick and fast now. "A bandage, please."

"Here, Mr. Reverent." Rixas watches on with a smug kind of look. "You know, fighting fair is a sure way to get you killed in a sword-fight." Gohan shoots him a look. "It's true. Historically, foul play was not only expected, it was par the course. If you think the best swordsmen are virtuous then think again."

"I think that's a very convenient reason for you to act like a dick."

"Oooh, so spicy," he coos. "Just because you session with Hezk was shitty, it doesn't mean you get to bring that negativity with you. Either let it go or put down the steel."

Wasting no time, the teenager stabs the sword into the ground and takes a seat beside it, wrapping the bandage around and around bitterly. It's easy for Rixas to tell him to drop it, but he doesn't even understand what's going on in Gohan's head. And really, is it even Gohan's head? Or is it Mori's? Gohan doesn't know anymore.

Gingerly, Rixas takes a seat beside him. "Wanna' leave it here for today?"

"Just give me a sec to sit down," he snaps. "Let's see if the bleeding wants to stop before you skewer me further."

Rixas snorts. "Wow. Today really was that bad, huh? Wanna' talk about it?"

"No, I don't."

"Bottling it up won't help."

"I just said I don't want to talk about it."

"Right, right. Okay."

They sit there in awkward silence, mostly due to Gohan's obstinacy, because whilst he knows that he's being a grumpy idiot, he doesn't want to give in and apologize. He's just so annoyed at everything.

And it's bad when the giant man-child decides to be less stubborn about this than him. He feels a touch of shame when Rixas eventually sighs and stands back up, stretching. He then wedges Gohan's sword free and chucks it back at him, smile at the ready.

"Get up," he says not unkindly. "Let's shake it off."

Abashed, Gohan nods. "R-Right."

Bygones are apparently bygones because Rixas is ready to continue Gohan's lesson. They've covered a lot over the last few months, and the teenager had discovered that he's not as proficient at the art as he thought he was. There's real technique to it that goes beyond the hacking and slashing Gohan had been doing as a kid, and even with the Z Sword. Rixas has already gone over footwork, how to properly hold it, and how to deliver a good swing. Lately, he's been pushing the general principles.

It's funny, he thinks, because Mori was probably half-decent at this. When more memories return to Gohan, will skills follow? Will Gohan be able to wield a sword like Mori once had? Will he able to call upon his ki at will?

"When will we learn about ki?" he blurts out.

Rixas blinks. "Ki?"

Nodding, Gohan feels a bit embarrassed about mentioning it. He didn't mean to come across as ungrateful or anything. Rixas trains Gohan because he's just nice like that (well, he'd pretty much twisted Gohan's arm on the matter), and Gohan's happy to do it because the routine is the one thing that keeps him from going crazy. Still, the teenager can't help but hope for an answer.

The god swings the sword above his shoulder and thinks the question over. "Mmm… I dunno. I didn't really have the intention to go over it to be honest. I've always thought that you'd come into those memories at some point… You were the specialist before, after all. There's not much I can tell you about it that you wouldn't know. Besides…" Rixas coughs, looking a bit put out. "I'm not very good at it."

"Really?"

"Really." He nods, solemn. "My control sucks."

"Oh… wow. You're just so strong that I assumed…"

He waves a hand at the teenager, gesturing the thought away. "You weren't bad with a sword before, but you would have never been able to train with me like you do today. It's a balancing act between us. You sucked at fighting but you were good with ki. And I'm terrible with ki yet I'm the biggest, baddest combat fighter around. On the other hand, Famis used to be ridiculously good with magic whilst neither of us could do shit with it."

Gohan dares ask. "And Quell?"

"Well, he's special, ain't he?" Rixas wryly smirks. "Big Bro is the leader. He gets a taste of all three skills, and he gets his pressure." He wrings a hand through the scruffy mop atop his head. "Totally so unfair…"

"He's that strong, huh?"

"Oh, yeah. He's the real deal, alright." Rixas chuckles and gives Gohan a pitying look. "If there was one person who could help you with the ki thing, it'd be him."

"Great."

Rixas barks a laugh. "Alright, grab Old Rusty and let's continue with our lesson. I want you to be better familiar with recognizing and performing deception. We're gonna' make an immoral swordsman out of you yet."

Gohan falls into position, wielding his oversized butter knife. His blade splits the image of his brother into two halves. With a hardened gaze, he watches as Rixas settles onto the balls of his feet for a speedier set off.

"Remember the general considerations of adequate sword-fighting, Mori."

He dashes fast, but Gohan's sword manages to capture the contact. The ringing of steel on steel scrapes hard against the emptiness of the courtyard and the teenager barely stumbles back in time.

"The physical condition of your body is of great importance," he continues before pressing forward. His sword strikes fast. "You're injured on your left arm. Even if I couldn't see the bandage, I can tell by your form. You need to hide it better."

A sharp ripple of agony courses up his arm when Rixas' blade clips at the wound. Still, he manages to deflect the swift second coming, dodging and kicking his aggressor away.

"Next is your general awareness. You're actually very good at this, Mori." To prove this point, Rixas fazes behind Gohan just to be repelled backwards. A slice against his shoulder is the reward for his brashness. "Excellent. You've always been perceptive like that. Yet…"

Rixas comes at him again, this time it's head on and with so much aggression that Gohan isn't sure on how to react. Instead of utilizing his sword, Gohan sidesteps and avoids the attack entirely. "Your confidence seems to have plummeted. It's better than it was when you first came here, I suppose. We'll keep at it."

Gohan frowns. "I'm just fine, thanks."

"Pah," Rixas dismisses, "when you can talk to girls for longer than ten minutes without running away then I'll believe you."

Asshole…

The teenager plunges forward, swiping the sword left and right in quick succession. Up, down, up, down, up, down; it falls against his opponent without a single ounce of triumph. There's not even a graze for his efforts. Frustrated, Gohan tries swivelling the thing and hitting Rixas across the face with the hilt, but he's too slow and suffers for it. Rixas' own blade slices along his other arm.

"Damn it!"

"Your presence is lacking too. I'm not at all intimidated." Rixas curls his blade around in taunting circles. "Though, I'd blame that on your shitty timing too. I can tell you're in a bad mood today." A whistle leaves him when his weapon comes to a halt. "Wow, look at all these considerations of sword-fighting I'm listing for you. Aren't I so kind? Now, wonderful student, can you tell me the last three?"

"Caution," Gohan spits out, pressing his hand against his newest wound.

Rixas laughs. "Yes, of course you'd remember that one."

"You give me every reason to be cautious of you. You don't know how to take it easy at all."

"How well you know me, little brother. Can you remember another consideration?"

Gohan bounces on his feet, trying to keep his body in motion. The adrenaline is kicking in. Soon he won't even be able to feel his injuries. "Rhythm," he finally says, still lightly jumping between feet.

"Excellent," Rixas praises. "And that leaves just one more."

There's no time for an answer, however. It's not unexpected, but still impossibly wild and quick in how Rixas comes at him a last time. His sword is but a flurry of after images, jutting like stop motion mid-air in its antagonism, and becoming easier to recognize only by the sounds of whooshing metal blowing by Gohan's ears. With great effort, the teenager avoids his brother's swings, reading the next with only so little time to spare.

He finally brings his own sword up, low from beneath Rixas' knees, with the ambition to cut him there. However, the plan changes when the opposing blade raises high, glistening in the intense rays of the sun. It's blinding but Gohan knows what he must do. His motion shifts and Gohan brings up his blade to block instead of attack.

And that's when Rixas gets him, not with a sword but with a knee. It cracks hard into his liver.

Gohan's on his knees, winded and almost sick, when he feels the touch of steel under his chin. He raises his eyes to meet the mischievous glint of his brother's.

"Deception," Rixas whispers, lips pulled wide.

Panting sounds between them.

"I should have followed through on my attack," Gohan eventually wheezes out.

The cold tip of metal descends. "Yes, and that's the sort of confidence we need to work on."

Gohan breathes hard, capturing the dirt between his fingers as his chest beats immeasurably fast. "Confidence," he repeats. Sweat trickles over his brow and Gohan watches it as it turns the dirt sodden. "I think I need to work on more than just that…"

"You'll get there." When Gohan raises his hand, Rixas pulls him up and gives him a solid slap on the back. "So… you ready to talk about it yet? What happened with Hezk?"

An anxious pang in his chest replaces the breathlessness. Instead of sharing his worries, he asks his brother a question.

"Actually…" He clears his throat. "Rixas, I was wondering…" It's been bothering him since talking to Hezk, yet it's like twisting his arm to get him to say it aloud now.

"Yeeeeah?"

Gohan itches at the back of his head. "…Do you really see me and Mori as the same person? I mean… just now… you compared me to him, with how I, or he, used to be. I just don't get how… how you can. I don't get how you can call me by his name when, even as I start to remember his memories, I don't feel any different."

"Eh?"

Gohan scratches at the back of his head, scowling. "What I'm trying to say is; how is it that you recognize me as Mori when I'm still so clearly Gohan?"

"No, I got your question," Rixas clears up. "I'm more confused about how you're not seeing it."

"What? What do you mean?"

"You've been becoming more like him every day. Don't you think? Your habits, your interests –even your mood swings; they're changing. I'm surprised you haven't noticed. Everyone else has."

"W-What?"

"Even Quell had noticed enough to try reaching out to you. I think maybe it was a bit too soon though, you know?"

It's like being doused in cold water.

The teenager sucks in a deep breath as his mind goes into overdrive to deny it. But Rixas' words scream in his mind over and over again.

I'm surprised you haven't noticed. Everyone else has.

"I've not changed at all," he tries. It sounds weak.

Rixas swivels his sword again, a brow raised high. "You sure 'bout that?

"I…" Gohan's mouth grows dry.

I've not… I'm not him. I'm not…

Right?

As earlier promised, long before everything went from bad to worse, Gohan does reward himself with the bottle of red when he gets in that night. He also rewards himself with berry liqueur, port and something he actually can't quite identify. Who cares? It burns on the way down and that's the important thing.

He ignores Myra's clanging and banging about his door, taking vicious satisfaction when she finally crumbles and leaves. He's already pretty wrecked by this point, as is his bedroom. Books lie in haphazard piles around the room, some torn and others obliterated in his fury. They lay around smashed-up pieces of furniture, judging him. They judge him for his stupid fucking drunken rage.

He'd cry if he hadn't run out of tears years ago. Gohan can't cry anymore –maybe that's the Mori in him. He laughs; a bitter and spiteful sound. He laughs because there's nothing else he can do.

Gohan Son died years ago, and Gohan Son is going to die again.

He lifts his wine bottle and gives cheers to his ceiling light.

"Mori is me," he tells it, slurring.

He then takes another glug of red and falls back against his beaten mattress.

"Gohan never existed, huh? It's always jus' been 'im."

Eyes press close. His chest grows heavy.

"Fine."

I concede.

You did not begin when you were born, nor when you were conceived. You have been growing, developing, through incalculable myriads of millenniums. Your previous self has its voice, echoes, promptings in how it influences your journeying in life. Reincarnation of the purest essence of our soul does not happen, but reincarnation, renovation and evolution of ideas do. These conceptualizations are the foundation for shared living between your past and present. With cohesive existence, only then will you find peace with yourself.

Reincarnation: A Reflection of One Thought

Page 1

Age 776

?, The Globe Bar

The bathroom mirror never lies.

Gohan's face is flushed rosy. He's quite possibly glowing with it, along with wide, diluted eyes, he looks a mess. His hair is wild tonight –but not in a bad way. It's fine. He can work with this. Clumsily, his hands streak through the locks, and he almost slips in his stupor when he gets a bit carried away.

Over the thrum of bass, Gohan can hear the crowds cheer for something. It's muffled to him even though the door is crap and there's holes punched out of it, Gohan can barely hear.

His head spins, and he grabs the mirror.

"It's time," he tells his reflection.

Golden eyes shine so brightly that he can barely take anything else in. The dingy bar bathroom disappears into the background, and it's just Gohan and Gohan. He trails his fingers down over his own face, staring as the stranger beyond the glass stops being just that because…

It's time.

It's time to say goodbye.

The teenager wobbles against the sink and splashes water over his face. One last look is offered before he leaves the bathroom for good.

Straight away, the music screams at him. Raging guitar riffs fill his head, making it even harder to think, making the fuzzy static crackle ever louder, and making everything easier to manage. There's a dance floor he must pass through and Gohan feels a swarm of hands run over him as he survives it. He might have stayed if he wasn't so determined.

Nearing his destination, Gohan spots Roarg at her usual spot by the speakers. Maybe she likes being slightly deaf too. She gives him a wave when she catches him staring, or at least Gohan thinks she does. It's all a bit blurry.

After a pit stop at the bar, Gohan arrives to his endpoint and thuds a tray of shots down on the table. He slaps Rixas' hand away when he tries for a pink one. Gohan pushes something stronger his way.

"Oh my god, you're fucked," Rixas tells him as if he doesn't already know. There's a giant fucking grin across his ridiculous face.

Gohan laughs and takes his seat in the booth. As he takes his shot, he feels a creep of warmth along his thigh. The smile doesn't leave his face as he peers down at the girl nestled under his arm. He can barely make out what she looks like now, but he remembers her to be pretty. She has a pretty name too, he thinks. Maybe.

The girl says something but Gohan has no idea what. There's something sly about her, about her smirk, about the way she keeps looking at his lips… Lethargically, he watches her take the shot, watches as she slams the shot glass back on the table and hisses. And then she turns back to him, smiling. It's that same sly smile.

Before she can say anything, he tilts her head back and presses his lips against hers. The warmth creeps up his thigh and everything blanks out.

The next morning, Gohan wakes up nude, sticky and still inebriated.

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It's gonna' be a bumpy road! Buckle on in. We're going to grittier lands! Poor Gohan isn't in the best head space and that means we're gonna' see some terrible life choices. Actually, I'm considering pushing the fic up to an M rating. We're going to be getting a saucy scene or too, so prudes be gone. This is my warning to ya. ;) (It won't be lemon though so don't you filthy deviants get too excited, haha)

As always, thanks to my girl Kags for betaing. It's on the bigger side so thank sweet baby Jesus for her. Also, big thanks for reviews, PMs and follows/favs. They really make me feel all warm and fuzzy in my swinging rock. Actually, you know, I really love reading theories. They really intrigue me. Also, I've had some good comments and questions as well. There's one I want to talk about actually. I hope they don't mind!

Power levels. I think I mentioned it a while ago that I don't really subscribe to traditional power level scaling. And that's because it really holds you back the narrative, and you as a writer. They're a bit whack too, imo. I know a lot of fans really enjoy them but I find them limiting. Just one number reflecting all your power? I mean, I kind of appreciated back in early Z, but I don't see a point in it now, especially in my fic where it's not just about power, but about skill too. As hinted in this chapter, even though Rixas is physically stronger than Quell, it doesn't guarantee his victory. But for clarity's sake, I'll say this; Rixas and Quell are far above Majin Buu level. Gohan didn't take a power knock. They're just that strong. So Gohan has to train his wee bottom off :)

That's it from me. Hopefully, it won't be too long until we get another chapter. Thanks for reading thus far! A review would really be appreciated in these dark times. I'm just but a poor, humble FF writer, you see. Haha!

Until next time!