The Horse with No Name

Chapter Twenty-Three:

The Many Niceties of Gohan Son

Age 778
Planet Ae#212

Naturally, Quell is in the one place Gohan doesn't consider looking, resulting in an undeserving amount of chaos amongst the villagers when he's dragged from the riverbed to an unpolished tavern front. Several fishermen had been his chosen guardsmen if their smell is anything to go by.

He doesn't know what's worse; the putrid odour of fish or the lousy manhandling. "Is this really necessary?"

"Ged'in, outsider." The largest jostles him through the door. "Blonde-Man said he'd 'ave our 'eads if we dint' find'ja."

It's a dimly-lit establishment, operating under a ceiling lowered by sheets of cobwebs and dust, and smelling faintly of wood rot. Gohan feels as if it's being swallowing from the top downwards, what with him having to duck under several beams as he's hauled through crevices one after another. Tested by the last panel, he trips and lands head first into his brother's lap.

"Quite affectionate today. How unusual," Quell teases, patting his head fondly. "Although you're a bit old for this, aren't you?"

Gohan not-so-gracefully lumbers up, shrugging away from the fishermen when they think he's going to make a run for it.

"That'll be all, rudimentary townspeople. Go on now, be gone. I'll spare you so long as you give us privacy."

They look unsure but Quell waves at them, akin to master and dog, and so they scurry away, leaving him to turn back to the bar top he's perched at and sip from his bottle. The barkeep is long gone too but that doesn't stop Quell from helping himself to the stacked refrigerated goods.

"N-No. I don't want one." Gohan catches the bottle anyway, huffing. "God damn – I told you that I – whatever…" There's no saying no, anyway. "Blergh… God, this tastes awful. How are you drinking it?"

"I would rather gouge my eyes free than partake from the tap, and they have no wine. So bottle be it," he says airily. The drink is waved and then considered. "How horrific. I think this one is brewed with spiderwater."

Gohan doesn't know what that is and he dares not ask; instead, he sits in the rickety chair beside his brother, sips and sulks. "You didn't need to threaten them. I was looking for you, anyway."

"They were not cooperating. Would you believe I was being patient in the beginning? My offer of decapitation came following a rather bloody disagreement."

"What? You killed—"

"Mori, spare me the speech."

"You cannot go around demanding mortals to do your bidding."

Quell has the audacity to be confused. "I… mean I can."

"Then you are as no good as… them."

"Oh, the despicable war criminals, yes, they are quite dastardly, aren't they? The only difference is that it is my right to the people's servitude, whereas they are just petty power-hungry impostors hoping to have their five minutes of fame. Mmm… this beer isn't so bad. Want to try this flavour? I think it's sweeter than your own."

Gohan pinches the space between his brows. "No, I don't."

"Are you cross with me?"

"Yes. You killed civilians again."

"They killed themselves by trying my patience. Fools rush in where angels dare not tread, after all."

"What does that even mean? Quell, you should not abandon your morals just to act as you please in the name of… what?"

"The Almighty, not that that matters. Little brother, you are far too soft. It had been endearing at first, I suppose, but I think it is most dangerous as we get on a bit. Your simple nature will be your downfall should you not be more wary, more harsh."

"…Harsh?"

"You are too nice. You are sickly sweet and wholly good. How do you think that will serve you? Your being so blandly agreeable is not real; it does not represent you or your ideals. Why do you hide behind it? Do not think that I don't know you. I see you."

"I don't need an underlying reason to be nice, Quell. Have you thought that I am just… nice?"

Quell chortles and chooses to ignore him. His lips smack together. "Mori, do try this flavour. If you do not think of the implications of spiderwater then it's not too bad at all."

Gohan makes a show of taking a swig to appease the brute. It's actually… all right, much to his own disappointment. The bottles are soon swapped and Quell smiles at him as if butter wouldn't melt in his mouth, ravishing the moment when Gohan takes a second begrudging sip.

The bottle slams on the filthy counter, and he announces. "I am not fake… and we didn't come here to hurt people."

"You're right about the latter, at least. We came here to collect the seedling. Have you managed to find it?"

Gohan blanches. "No, I was too busy looking for you, and then being hoisted here by your near-fatalities."

"Disappointing."

"You said that you were going to test me but all you've done is given me a gardener's task. Is this really so important or am I just doing your errands for you, brother?"

Quell is amused. "A little of both if I'm being honest. I want to see if your understanding of divine creations can lead you to the tree. Do you not sense it?"

"Sense what? I can't even sense you on this planet. The atmosphere counters navigational energy tracking, I sussed that much. When you dropped me here this morning, I thought you'd give me more information than 'look for a precariously placed plant with queer ki readings' but perhaps your plan was just to trick me because this planet is completely barren of any and all greenery! Even the riverbed is brimming with decayed foliage –it's all dead, everything is dead, or dying, at least."

Quell sips. "And?"

"And what?"

"You must have thoughts about such an array of things here. The climate is perfectly suitable for a luscious, bountiful land, yet here we are, sitting in this retched tavern on a husk of a planet. "

"You chose this bar."

He sighs greatly. "Prohibition is… regrettably a part of the apparent culture. My options were this or a strip club, although I'm sure you would have enjoyed the latter, you tart."

Gohan's lips puckers. The people here are not easy on the eyes. "You make it sound like I'm a sexual predator."

"More like a horny puppy, hoping to hump any semi-attractive leg that passes by."

"Quell!"

"Oh all right, you're not that bad; not as bad as Rixas, at least. And I suppose I can account for your taste after I saw that soldier you were making eyes with last night on Geo."

Gohan groans. "No. I… cannot… I refuse to talk about that with you. Not again."

"No? But I gave you my blessing. He was quite to my liking, in fact. I'm sure he was suitably satisfying in the bedroom if his height was any—"

"Enough. Okay, I get it. I'll be good."

"What? Can I not have my opinion?"

"I don't want to hear your opinion on that, not from you. Never from you, thanks."

There's a barked laugh. "Don't be a prude. Even I have sex, little brother, and marvellous sex at that I'd have you know."

The bottle is drained, slammed and Gohan stands, chair clattering behind. "The tree; seed, sapling; whatever, I'll replant a forest in your honour so long as we stop talking about this." There's another laugh. "But please, if you can, be clearer. You cannot expect me to find a tree just because it has no earthly-business being there, dying planet or not."

"Oh, so you recognized that the planet is dying?"

Gohan averts his eyes, low. "The degradation is severe, so severe that I know whatever is happening here is unnatural. If the carbon dioxide poisoning doesn't kill the inhabitants, dehydration or starvation will… unless the universal humanitarian effort has enough food to feed an entire planet."

"Which is does not."

"Which it does not, no."

"Survival estimation?"

"A month at best, and depending on the politics and eco-strategy plan, the people could face extinction in less than several days at worse. That's if we're going off previous recordings of similar apocalyptic disasters, of course. Half those numbers if they're ki-users." He sighs. "I'm guessing we're not here to save them?"

"They are the very soon to be dearly departed, indeed. Had we got word about the tree earlier then they could have been saved, perhaps. Alas, that was not the case." Quell appraises him, disliking the budding sorrow. "Chin up, you've seen worse."

"I know."

"It is as natural to die as it is to be born, and it may be one of the greatest mortal blessings."

Gohan scoffs, "Convenient for you to say so, considering the circumstances."

"Is it cheering you up?"

"Oh? Is my pain that much of a hindrance?"

"More something I just greatly dislike, or am I not meant to say that? Do you like me playing the villain?"

"I'm…" He swallows, pulling himself into a tight hug, "being an asshole."

"Crude, but accurate." Quell leans back against the splintered wall, looking incredibly out of place against the squalor, his being impossibly bright and perfect. The silvers of his robes clash horribly against the candle-lit woodwork, dark but dazzling, much like his expression. "Stop being so sensitive to their plights, Mori, otherwise you will never be able to achieve much of anything. I am not saying a level of empathy isn't a desirable quality but should you let it distract you from your goal, you will never be able to serve either the Almighty or the ridiculous mortals you care so much for."

"But if I go too far then I'll end up who I was before."

I'll become the other Mori; the one who wanted you dead.

Quell holds his expression well, and finishes the last of his drink. "Yes, well, I will not let you stray too far that way, either. Nonetheless that goes without saying. What does need to be said is that you have yet to complete your goal in finding the sapling, or tree, or whatever it may or may not have sprouted into. This is the final seed of the Tree of Might and I seek destroy it, as it is one of the last remaining foul creations Famis left us with."

The Tree of Might…

Gohan knows it. Gohan remembers it –back from his time on Earth—he recalls the horror, the life it steals. His dad had… Him and Krillin, they'd… He swallows, shaking the memories free. There's no use thinking of such things.

His voice is thin. "The Tree of Might was created by Famis?"

Quell nods his head, looking sick of the very thought. "One of his many vapid ideas. Such genius was wasted on him when all he could come up with was dark, fantastical concepts such as trees suffering vampirism." A heavy sort of look crosses his face, making him look even older than his years, much like the older brother levied with the sins of his siblings. "Lucky for us, at least, we should be able to sense the blasted thing based off its divinity. The foundations of Famis' energy tribute saw to that."

But Gohan's perplexed. "You want to destroy something Famis created?"

"More like clean up his era-old messes, much like I do with yourself and Rixas."

Oh good lord. "Does your pedestal get chilly up there?"

"Don't be cute. I'll have you know – should you bother to remember one day — that many of your awry schemes also got out of hand in the past, causing me great hassle… and that's without mentioning your current amnesia nonsense."

Gohan picks at the chipping wood, innocent. "I feel like it's easier to manage than Majin magic or life-leeching foliage, at least."

Quell spares him a look. "Don't compare sins, little brother. Whilst Famis was his own whirlwind force, I feel like it's your escapades that cause me the utmost deal of headaches. Though I think I would have to agree that in the creation of Majin magic, Famis had managed to ruffle more than a few feathers, predominantly amongst the kais. They likely never forgave him – or us, for the matter – for that. Do you recall much of the use of Majin magic during the Buu situation, back on that planet of yours?"

"Earth?"

"Yes, Earth, whatever, I can never remember its name."

Gohan contains himself from rolling his eyes. Should he do it then Quell would complain at him for the rest of the day. Instead, he tells him; "I remember that it felt evil."

"Evil," Quell tests slowly, "A very elementary way of putting it considering that no pure power should be described as such. It's in the actions and intentions, not the power itself."

"I'm just telling you how it felt."

"Evil."

"Yes, evil." He leans against a beam, darkly reminiscing. "My friend was corrupted by its power and the effect just felt… horrible and wrong and… and as though there was nothing good left in him anymore. He killed people, many, in fact, and he didn't give a single damn. He was never a perfect person but he wasn't who the Majin magic had made him to be… Somehow, he broke through it in the end and rejected the power bestowed, but I still remember the first moment when I'd felt it take him. I don't really understand how magic relates to the user or its target but it felt unholy, wrong…"

"I can see why it felt as such." Quell hums. "The core principle of Majin magic is to weaken inhibitions, and then monopolize will. It's depending on the caster whether or not the victim breaks free rather than the sheer determination of the victim. Only pure beings are able to fend it off, however rare they are. I am not as clued in on the topic as Famis was, I admit, but to my understanding; Majin magic does not discriminate in its degradation; even divine creatures are able to fall to it."

"Even you?"

"And you. That's what makes it most frightening, and why," he huffs, "Famis is still causing me problems long after his ascension into death."

Gohan can't help but grin. "Yet I'm still the worst offender –even after all that?"

"Even after all that." Eyes turn onto him, lips peaking. "Bloody mortality, honestly, Mori, what were you thinking? Between the three of you, I'd think you were all trying to turn my blonde grey."

More like Mori was trying to overthrow you, he thinks. Trust Quell to begrudge ruined hair over attempted murder. And he thinks Gohan as simple? If anything, Quell is too forgiving and nice with him!

"Anyway, enough of that, I think it's time for you to busy yourself with the task at hand once more. Consider this my final piece of advice; remember the training we did on Geo many moons ago where you were able to break through my pressure. Only upon understanding the divinity did you make the small crack—"

"—it was a bit bigger than a small crack—"

"The small crack, so try to recall the ki focussing techniques we'd discussed then, the something more. It's about searching beyond the surface level of energy."

Gohan nods. "Right. I didn't think we would be searching for divine—"

"Yes, I did not specify but we must always remain vigilant. Misreading divine ki can mean the difference between life and death. Gods are not without enemies, as you know."

"The Zealites…"

"Yes. One of many."

Gohan is curious. "The kais?"

"Perhaps, but enmity is everywhere an affair of time and circumstance. Let's keep in their good books, at least whilst I seek justice for Famis. I cannot risk causing… too much animosity between the gods and them, not more than there currently is, otherwise I might not ever get the answers I want. And I refuse to let Famis' memory fade into unknown obscurity… Not when… He's…" He trails off, wispy and empty-eyed.

It brings down the mood. Gohan knows how deep Quell cares, how passionate he is beneath it all, and how it peeks its head in moments like this. In an equally rare occurrence, Quell reaches out for Gohan with affection, hand beckoning.

"Find the tree. Destroy it," he instructs as Gohan grasps frosty fingers.

"And then what?"

Ice clenches around Gohan's grasp, firm as eyes above burn. "Then I'll continue to train you and make you so powerful that no-one will be able to touch you. Stand tall with me and let go of this elementary nice dead-boy persona you have. I shall see you true."

Age 780
Planet Earth
439 Mountain Area

Gohan Son

Always shining brightly

Forever a star

Gohan sits, staring. Natural green has swallowed a portion of the grave – his grave – and the overall effect has it looking older than it is, weather-worn, haunted and reminiscent of headstones long since abandoned. His name is barely legible but he finds himself tracing over the engraving, letter by letter, until there is a stony residue under his fingertip. His finger hovers, suddenly halting.

He only stops when he realises that he must be crouching over his own body.

How macabre.

It's strange knowing that his mortal form is lying below, likely having decomposed to an unrecognizable state as it, long-since eaten by the Earth and its creatures. Perhaps it's the morbid streak within which calms him. He likes that he was able to give back to his planet, to be a part of something mortal and truly living. It shows that Gohan Son had been one of the people. Once upon a time, he'd had been a human stitch in the fabric of existence; something small and insignificant in the grand scheme of things, really. How things have changed. How it had all been easier then.

He smiles at the idea of his rotting corpse.

The grave, whilst eerie in its own right, is not for Gohan. It was made for his family to mourn, to help them accept his passing. Although Gohan has to wonder how much they actually managed to move on, he still recognizes this grave for what it is; a place of reflection; one frequently used at that. He doesn't need to ask how much Dad tends to the site as he can see by looking that it's pretty often. It's clean, neat and the grass around it is trimmed. There isn't a host of dead flowers around either, nor are there out-dated cards to celebrate holidays past. All in all, the grave is cleaner than the bloody house.

Why he dreamed of Quell last night, he has no idea. The memory had returned to him with such vigour that Gohan had been sure that he'd been delivered one of Mori's. But no, it was his, and one he does not want to remember right now, especially with how angry he still remains with his brother.

Nice? Gohan thinks, bitter, I can't think of a further word to describe myself now. Is that in thanks to you?

"I think," Dad starts from behind, "It would be kinda' special if it was you to destroy the grave, like a symbol of starting something new."

Destroy it…

Something new…

Could he truly start something new? Unlikely. His time on Earth is about closing chapters, not starting again. For now, he'll have to mask himself and be the Gohan they need him to be.

So no, he's not going to destroy. They'll also likely need the site in the future. Instead, he pats it fondly and stands, turning to offer his father the brightest smile he can muster. "In the future, maybe. For now, I think we should leave it a while."

"Eh, why? You don't need it now."

"It's a special thing. I don't want to get rid of it on a whim."

"Oh, you wanna' have a ceremony or something, right? We could have a re-birthday party. Instead of blowing out the candles, you could—"

"Blow this up?"

"Right!"

The image of everyone gathered around in party hats over his grave has Gohan laughing. "I don't know about that."

When Dad tries to persuade him further, Gohan says that he might consider it when and if the house ever becomes presentable again. Gohan has been back on Earth for a week now and has spent most of his time at Fire Mountain, readying himself for the upcoming battle of housework against the Son house. When Gohan had first tried to clean some days ago, he'd realised how futile it would be without the much needed hair-burning chemicals. If it doesn't burn on contact then it probably isn't strong enough.

This is the first thing Gohan will do for his family, the most obvious; he'll fix the family home. He'll show Quell how nice he can be.

As a result of Gohan refusing to live in a sty, Dad has been staying between 439 Mountain Area and the castle, trying to push Gohan into returning to the house at any given opportunity and not understanding why the idea is unappealing to either of his sons.

Goten had understandably refused when Gohan had tried dragging him.

"No-huh. No way," Goten had said back at Fire Mountain, lounged on Gohan's bed and playing with the Power Pole, "That place is gross. Grandpa was talking about tearing it down at one point."

"It's not… that bad. We could help fix it up together."

"I've seen cleaners cry at that place."

"Okay, it's pretty bad but if we—"

"No."

Gohan had sighed, already tired before it had been underway.

So, like a man going off to war, he'd kissed his mother goodbye and followed his dad into chaos, a bag of cleaning supplies at the ready.

They'd started right away, cleaning until midnight and only rising early the next day because Dad had promised to show Gohan where he'd been buried. Grave visited, they return to the matter at hand.

After a day of solid work, only the kitchen is useable and that was only after the wildlife was liberated from it. Never in Gohan's dizziest daydreams did he think that he would find himself chasing out raccoon dogs with a broom, yet that hadn't been the worst of it. Gohan had found rats under the sink and poisonous millipedes in the rice, and all Dad could do was laugh it off.

At that moment, Gohan had been tempted to just burn the house down and start anew. Great-Grandpa's hut would likely be more habitable. But from the concoction of bitter competition and anger to prove Quell how good and nice he is, Gohan pushes on but not only for that. He credits himself with that much – he does want his dad to stop living like a pig.

"Goten comes here," Gohan had scolded yesterday, looking ridiculous in his mother's old apron. A bleached cloth had been wielded and wagged in manner most threatening. "What would happen if he had gotten sick staying here? Bacteria can kill, Dad."

"What's bacteria?"

"It's… tiny little… Look, you need to stay on top of this. If it gets this dirty again then it will be dangerous for Goten to stay here. Think about what Mum would say if she saw it."

He'd paled at that. "Well, she d-doesn't come up here."

"And neither will Goten if you don't clean up more. Here, this is toilet cleaner. Acquaint yourself with the bathroom because I'm not going in there until you take a stab at it first."

"Eh. I can wipe the sides in here. Look, I'm good at that."

"The bathroom, Dad."

"But—"

"Go."

"Uwah. When did you get so bossy, Gohan?"

Dad had laughed but did as he was told, taking the cleaner and pack of cloths, leaving Gohan to finish the kitchen alone. The war against the oven had needed to be waged after all.

However, the instance had worried Gohan. It had presented more questions than he'd previously considered. Bossy, huh? Without a doubt, over the years he'd changed, sure, but is it to a noticeable degree? He's admittedly making great effort toning down some of his thoughts, choosing to speak in a more polite manner than usual as not to offend or say something he wouldn't have back in the day. It's less of playing a character as it is to be slipping back into a role, at least that's what he keeps reaffirming with himself.

Gohan is still Gohan, just less Gohan… but most definitely not Mori.

God. These oven cleaning fumes are messing with my head, he'd thought, head buried under charred fat and who knows what.

More chemicals were to be inhaled and none more so when Gohan had to take over Dad's abysmal attempt at the bathroom. He's seen many things in the last few years yet the horrors of blocked drains will forever imprint upon him. Not only that but Dad seems to have the habit of stuffing candy wrappers in any crevice he can find, as if any place he cannot see will absolve him of the litter. It hasn't and so Gohan had to spend an hour fishing them from under the bathroom floorboards.

On the evening of Day Three, they are having a bonfire with the rotten furniture when an unexpected guest turns up.

"Oh man, I p-promised I wouldn't cry."

Over the crackling of the rocking chair, the smouldering silhouette of a friend never forgotten can just about be made out.

Krillin rushes over and clasps him in a tight, unforgiving hug.

"You never came by!" he says, throat congested, "I've been waiting!"

Gohan hugs him tighter, feeling guilty. He'd planned on going to Kame House in the next day or so with his dad but he'd just got caught up with everything here. It's all been a flurry of events and he hasn't had much time to catch his breath and process it all, yet seeing Krillin now, he feels terrible that visiting him hadn't been a top priority.

"I can't believe it," Krillin wheezes, pulling away and slapping at his arms. "You're back, you're really—!"

"Whoa, you shaved your hair again," Gohan notices thickly.

"Y-Yeah."

"I like it."

"It was the s-stress… with… I—"

In the dark, he can't see well enough. "Krillin… are you crying?"

"N-No… Yes!" There's a great sniffle. "I… you didn't come! Eighteen told me to wait but—"

And Gohan is taken again and Krillin holds him there until Dad comes over and offers Krillin a wad of tissues and one of his dreadful health drinks.

"Don't you have anything stronger?" Krillin asks, laughing and wiping away the last of his tears.

The rest of that evening is spent grilling fish over the bonfire and drinking Capsule Corporation Nourishment Beverages, raspberry flavour. Dad's taste buds went to die years ago but Krillin can at least appreciate how awful they are. He pours half of one can away when Gohan manages to salvage a stored bottle of water from Goten's room for him.

"I always thought it would be Chi-Chi to fumigate the house," Krillin jokes, twirling his fish skewer over the open flame. "I can't say I saw this one coming. You're such a good kid, Gohan."

I literally came back from the grave to clean the gutters.

But Gohan spares them the dryness. "I don't think her lungs are strong enough to face the chemicals we've had to today," he instead jests in return, "I think I saw double at one point."

"You got dizzy after doing the bathroom, didn't you?" Dad points out.

Yes, but that wasn't due to the chemicals but more to do with this horrid meat sack I've been stuffed into.

Occasional waves of nausea still strike but Gohan's doing his best with them. He shrugs and takes a bite out of his own skewer. "At least the worst of it is done."

"Maybe you could come do the Kame House next!"

"I'm nice but I'm not that nice." Gohan laughs but inwardly promises himself to never touch anything Master Roshi has been within five feet of.

As the night goes on, Gohan comes to learn that Krillin, Eighteen and their nine year old daughter, Marron are actually about to buy their own house in the suburbs near Satan City. Krillin says it's because Eighteen wants Marron to go to school but Gohan bets that it's more to do with her wanting to escape the greasy mitts of a certain lecherous old timer. Apparently, they'd been able to save up over the last couple of years due to Krillin's recent work as a police officer. Eighteen has been entering tournaments for the prize money as well, so between the two of them the house they've managed to buy is somewhere in a leafy neighbourhood near Mr. Satan himself.

"Eighteen isn't too happy about that," Krillin says, "But I don't mind him. He's actually a real nice guy once you get to know him, y'know? Also, it means we'll get to see Videl, and Marron loves her… oh, er, sorry—"

Gohan waves a hand. "It's fine."

"Have you seen…?"

"Mum says that I should visit her but I don't know…" He hums. "I'm waiting for her to contact me. I don't want to overload her. I mean, maybe she doesn't want to see me. She's engaged after all."

"I didn't know that," Dad informs Krillin.

"There's no way she doesn't wanna' see you," Krillin assures. "Absolutely no way."

"She messages Goten but I haven't heard anything…" Gohan shrugs and takes another bite as Krillin's face displays a range of awkward emotions.

"Give her time. She'll be in touch, definitely. It… erm, the whole thing was pretty hard on her."

Gohan knows that. What would he have done if the only person he'd been in love with committed suicide? Videl is a good, kind person, sweeter than she allowed others to believe; she would have hid her hurt far better than any of the others would have known about. It would have been hell for her. So he gets it. Really, if Gohan was Videl, he'd quite possibly never want to see him again.

Like Piccolo.

Sighing, he dumps the rest of his skewer and wipes his hands free of the grease.

"Gohan?"

"Do you still speak to the others?" Gohan diverts, brighter than needs be, "Dad said Yamcha is something of a baseball celebrity now."

"Oooh, he'd like you to think that. Don't open with that when you see him because he'll never let you live it down, or me for that matter. I actually see him every Sunday along with some other guys from the city. We do the weekly quiz at a crummy pizza joint near the station. Ehhh, don't look at me like that. I never said that we win."

"Pizza? You guys never invite me for pizza," Dad complains.

"We did but you never turned up."

"Heh. I kinda' lose track of the days out here, especially when I'm training with Piccolo."

"Don't worry; I don't think the place stocks enough dough to feed a saiyan anyway. Heh-heh. Also, I can't imagine you'd help us place any higher in the quiz rankings," Krillin laughs, "Not that we're doing that great ourselves. But it's not all bad. Last place always wins the table a pitcher of ale, y'know."

Dad cringes. "Eugh, ale."

Now that's something Gohan can get behind.

Krillin doesn't stay the night because the place smells like a chemical plant. He gets ready to leave well into the morning as the fire starts to die out, graciously refusing Dad's offer of taking home some of the nourishment drinks. After a final hug, Krillin snares Gohan by the arms and has him promise to visit him on the island before the big move.

Over breakfast the next morning, Gohan asks his dad if he should pay a visit to some of the others, somewhat hopeful that he would dissuade Gohan from the idea. He thinks it's a great idea, however, and prompts Gohan to get ready to pay a visit to Bulma and Trunks. Noticeably, Vegeta is not mentioned.

This trend of pretending that certain people do not exist isn't lost on Gohan, provoking him to wonder who else his dad is having him avoid.

Piccolo, Gohan thinks for the nth time.

What bothers Gohan most about his dad's terrible attempts to downplay is being kept out of the loop, and for what? His feelings are going to be hurt regardless of whether or not his dad manages to shield him. Gohan does not want to be protected. He is an adult.

…Not that they know.

He groans, pressing his forehead against the mirror, staring into faux mortal eyes not truly his own.

Gohan hates being babied, whether it's by Quell or Rixas, or even by his dad. Here, however, he has little argument to refute attempts at it. Gohan Son is seventeen.

But if they – Piccolo and Vegeta – also see me as a child then why do they begrudge me?

This is also a quieter reason as to why Gohan hadn't visited Krillin earlier. The fear of judgement is real. Who else will look at him differently because of the suicide? He's already lost Piccolo.

What a mess…

He pulls away from the glass and stares hard, willing himself to smile like Gohan Son would.

I shouldn't be nervous. They're friends.

When Gohan arrives at Capsule Corp his suspicions are founded when Vegeta makes no attempt to show face. On the other hand, Dr. and Mrs. Briefs are rather delighted to see him. They've got on a bit now, especially Dr. Briefs, who now needs to be wheeled around by his wife in a particularly sci-fi-styled wheelchair. He's high-spirited, however, his moustache bouncing as he directs him and Dad to where his daughter is waiting for them.

The door opens and Bulma, much like Krillin had, bursts into tears the moment she sees him. The occasion is followed by her berating him for not coming earlier, followed by repeating over and over how much she's missed him. A most dangerous question is asked next.

"Have I gotten old?"

"You look the same," Gohan says safely and she preens.

But she doesn't look exactly the same. Bulma has aged a little if Gohan has to be honest. She has pronounced crow's feet and elongated smile lines now, much like Krillin. It doesn't mar her beauty at all. If anything, the changes suit her. Her short hair has grown out long again and it makes her look youthful and lively; not at all like the mother of a teenager.

And a baby.

Bulla is soon stuffed into his arms and he's forced to admit how cute she is even though all babies look alike to him.

"You look frightened," Trunks teases from the sofa.

"I held you as a baby, you know," Gohan returns, bobbing up little Bulla like he used to do with Goten. "I'm not scared of kids."

"The difference is that if you'd dropped me, Dad wouldn't have given a shit. Drop Bulla and he'll kick your ass."

"Trunks," Bulma snaps, "Watch your language!"

The teenager snorts, leaning back. "Oh yeah, my language is the most worrying part of what I just said..."

It's Dad who poses the important questions. "Hmm, I wonder who would win in a fight now. Vegeta or Gohan…"

"Definitely Dad. His mistress is the Gravity Room."

Bulma shrugs, nodding as she lights up a cigarette. "I can't argue with that."

"I'm not fighting Vegeta. No, I'm not, am I, Bulla? Nope. I'm not gonna' fight your daddy."

Bulla giggles and Gohan laughs with her, blowing his cheeks wide when she reaches to pat them. She definitely has the saiyan strength. Her slaps are enough to be felt.

Now that he's looking properly, she's kind of cute; she's a chipper baby, bright-eyed and quick to smile; very much unlike Goten and Trunks, who Gohan remembers to be especially grumpy.

"Feel free to take her when you go," Bulma jests when Bulla falls asleep in his arms after a time. Her cigarette ash is flicked outside as she leans by the door, watching the odd duo with a level of amusement. She blows the smoke out and away from the baby. "It's quite a sight to behold, don't you think, Goku?"

"Huh? Bulla?"

"No. Gohan holding Bulla."

"Uh, is holding Bulla weird? Is it because she's a girl saiyan?"

"No, you dolt. I mean…" She glances back up at Gohan, smiling as she finishes the last of her smoke. "You know what. It doesn't matter. I'm just being a sentimental old lady."

"You'll never be old," Gohan says so very nicely as he passes Bulma back her daughter.

He grins when she laughs, obviously charmed. "Still as smart as ever, I see. You know exactly what to – Oh, oh no. Shh, shh, no, don't wake up now. Your mama has a conference in an hour. Shh."

They don't stay much longer due to said conference, and because Bulla is starting to fuss. Gohan has a feeling that both he and Dad share a dislike of hollering babies so they both make moves to leave. Trunks leads them out, passing the Gravity Room as they go and giving opportunity for Gohan to try and spot Vegeta. From the glass panel in the door, he sees the saiyan's back face them from under dim lighting. No mind is paid by him whatsoever. He doesn't even look up from the computer panel as they leave.

They've never been close by any means but there had been a level of respect between them. If it had been Vegeta who had died and returned, Gohan would have at least greeted him.

Do you have an issue with me, Vegeta?

How about you, Piccolo?

Once outside, Trunks gives them a single wave to send them on their way.

"As always, good seeing you, Trunks!" Dad says as he kicks up into the sky, "I'll tell Goten you said hi!"

Gohan realises that this might be as good time as any to reaffirm his lack of a grudge with the teenager. His casual slip-up about the suicide the other day had actually saved Gohan a lot of time. "Hey," he says, "About the Lookout, we're okay, right? I know you didn't mean anything by what you said."

Trunks immediately understands, the tip of nose turning rosy. "Yeah, we're good. Uh, I… still feel stupid; I know that I shouldn't have blurted out what I did."

"It's fine. I'm glad you said something." He means it. "I really appreciated your honesty."

"Y-Yeah, well." The rosiness has evolved into cherry-red cheeks. "Mum says 'honesty is more than not lying'. I think I just take it to another level. My mouth, uh…"

"Gets you into trouble?"

"It sure does."

"I bet that doesn't do you well in school."

"I'll have you know that I'm a straight 'A' student."

"Who never gets detentions?"

"Well, I wouldn't go that far."

Gohan chuckles and reaches out to ruffle at Trunks' hair. Old habits die hard and Trunks most definitely doesn't appreciate the action. "Hey. Watch the hair, man."

But Gohan doesn't like to be told what to do and he messes up the lilac mop regardless. "I'll come by and visit soon, yeah?"

"Yes, right," Trunks slaps his hand away, glowing like a stop light. "Yes! Sure, I said sure!"

And Gohan does visit, with Goten at one point and alone at another. The days fold over and soon enough, two weeks have found him. Yamcha drops by on an expressly sunny day with tickets to a baseball game. Even Tien and Chiaotzu arrive to offer well wishes.

Neither Piccolo nor Videl contact him.

Goten Son has school in the morning. The summer break has been… interesting to say the least, especially the last couple of weeks. It's all been an intense blur of happenings. Just when he thinks the day is normal, the phantom image of his brother wonders into the kitchen and makes himself a sandwich. To say that it's been a bit of an adjustment in finding Gohan pop up all over the castle would be an understatement.

Several of the nights had been just the two of them hanging together watching TV together; a very brotherly exercise once only dreamed about. Another night had Gohan, at the boring suggestion from their mother, sit him down to go over some of Goten's homework with him. The guy is every bit the giant brain everyone made him out to be, and had been startlingly quick at dissecting physics Goten's assignment and feeding it back to him. It's as if he'd been born a practiced teacher.

"Mum said that you're in the Science club," Gohan had said as more of an accusation than anything else. He'd not been fooled for more than a moment.

"Don't tell her I'm not."

Gohan hadn't said anything in response, instead smiling that weird little smile of his and shaking his head.

What are you thinking?

Goten can never get a solid reading on him. Had that always been the case?

It's easy for everyone else to acclimate to Gohan's return compared to him, and that's because they likely hadn't made up elaborate reasons as to why Gohan's suicide had ruined their lives like Goten had. And as a result, he just feels stupid. Had it even been suicide? The person spending their nights with Goten doesn't seem the sort. Gohan seems… happy, sometimes distracted, but otherwise happy. Goten knows that he's not supposed to judge off of a person's surface level but, really, could Dad have been right all along? Had Gohan been murdered?

"After school tomorrow, you've gotta' come to the family house," Gohan insists. "No arguing."

Goten groans as he packs his bag ready for the morning. "I don't wanna'."

"I want you to see it."

"Ugh—"

"I'll get you from school tomorrow and we'll go together. How does that sound?"

"Terrible. You're supposed to be dead."

"I'll be your cousin from out of town."

Goten shakes his (somehow) complete physics essay in disapproval. "Gohan, they have your picture up on a wall somewhere; a memoriam to the school's highest scorer or whatever. You can't just turn up at the school gate on Nimbus."

Gohan laughs awkwardly, even making that sound charming. "I mean, I can."

"Mum will be real angry if you make front page for coming back from the dead."

Now that's a lie. Anything Gohan does has Mum swoon and sing his praises. Between her and Grandpa, they could have their own very dedicated duet on how everything Gohan touches turns to gold and how he defecates rainbows.

That was mean.

As a direct return attack, Gohan offers what Goten has come to think of as the puppy-smile; syrupy like honey and all for him. The effect is startling.

"…Do I really need to go?" Goten asks, weighted by emergent guilt.

And like that, Gohan brightens. He's won. "Yes."

"I'll meet you there at five."

Returning to school is a shock to the system and not just because Goten already misses his lie-ins. The happenings at the World Martial Art Tournament are still a hot topic and a lot of the student body – to Goten's horror – actually recognized him as being one of very few jumping into the fray of it. He's accosted right at the gates, ambushed by a sea of unrecognizable faces asking him for all the details. Several of them are students from higher grades who follow Goten all the way to his homeroom, only disappearing when a passing faculty member shoos them away.

The others in class aren't much better. Goten has friends in his homeroom but he isn't the most popular guy by any stretch, particularly with the girls, but now, everyone wants to know him. Before the bell sounds, a flock of his peers are shooting all sorts of questions at him, trailing after him as he makes his way up to the back seat.

"What was that black smoke?"

"Was that really you out there?"

"Who was that guy that hurt Mr. Satan?"

"Did Capsule Corp really stage the whole thing? That's what my uncle said."

"Your dad is Goku Son?"

The last one has him react. "Well, I never hid that!" he snaps, setting his bag down, "It's in my name. Son."

"There's a rumour that your dad was at the Cell Games, did you know?" dares one student, "I saw it on an online forum. Is it true?"

Goten grits his teeth. "I'm not a search engine."

"No way," scoffs a girl Goten cannot for the life of him remember the name of, "Unless he was one of those weirdo pretenders."

"They weren't pretenders," defends the first student, "Only sheeple believe what they print in the papers."

"Oh, God, you're one of those. Goten, tell this idiot that your dad wasn't there."

But Goten's had about enough of this already. It's not even 9am yet. "I'm not your performing monkey," he snaps, "Get outta' my face! All of you GET LOST!"

They do but only because the teacher chooses that moment to walk in. He's the same one from last semester, a bitter man who takes an unhealthy amount of gratification in making Goten's existence just the worst, hence Goten's glee in making him the prime target of his pranks. However, today, he seems to feel sorry for Goten, even going as far to warn the class not to pester him.

Somehow, the pity makes it worse.

At lunch time, Goten has to make for the roof, running and hiding for the first ten minutes and then making sure to lock the door behind him, fire safety be damned. Trunks is already up here with his capsule-packed lunch deployed into a small banquet, face like he'd just received a smacked ass.

"You too?" Goten asks, sitting opposite the feast.

"Yup."

Goten opens his own capsule-packed dinner and breathes out, tragic. "I'm missing those dragon balls right about now."

"Yup."

He tears at his unsuspecting sandwich. "I cannot get over today."

"You know, I didn't even think about the fallout from—"

"Same." There's a pause. "How great would a mind-erasing wish be? I feel like we've been taking the dragon balls for granted."

"Oh, don't," Trunks groans, "Mum's been saying the same thing all week. She's pissed about having to sort all this crap herself. I'd feel sorry for her but she's been such a bitch this week, always flipping out over the smallest stuff because she's stressed. I think she's doing another interview tonight with some tabloid rag about it all again."

"Dad had to help lost reporters who'd tried to hike up to the family house for an exposé."

Trunks makes a scathing sound before stuffing in bread. "I'd haff' left 'em."

"I said that." From Goten's jacket, his phone buzzes. He reads the notification screen and snorts. "Videl just messaged me. Heh, she's such an asshole. She just offered me her publicist."

Trunks laughs. "Tell her that I'll hire her to be my lawyer when I lose my shit and blow up the school."

"You'll need more than a lawyer for that." But he types as told anyway, grinning. When the reply comes, it's just a GIF of raining money.

"She spoke to Gohan yet?"

And like that, the mood dies. Goten puts the phone away, brow scrunched in displeasure. "We don't talk about it."

"She's said nothing at all about him?"

"Nope."

Trunks hums, stabbing at his drink with a bendy straw. "Mum said that Videl'd reacted… quite... uh, a lot when she'd called and told her. I'm kind of surprised Videl hasn't spoken to him. Has Gohan tried to...?"

Goten doesn't mean to snap but the words leave him like an ugly torrent. "I don't know. I don't ask him. That's between them. I don't wanna' know."

Trunks' mouth falls into an 'o' shape as his eyes roll. "Okaaay, then."

"Videl's engaged."

"Yeah, I'm aware."

"So they're not going to date again."

"I never said they were. Sheesh. Don't take your shit out on me. I'm just asking."

The ugly beast Goten has been trying to suppress rolls around in his belly, only settling when Trunks pulls out his own phone to scroll through to ignore the tantrum, making Goten feel all the more silly for getting worked up. It's been a sore topic. Goten doesn't understand it, not properly. His feelings for Videl still run reasonably deep, but since they had it out at that restaurant, Goten thought they were good, thought that he was moving past the rejection.

I'm such a loser.

And now, on top of the guilt of feeling something deplorable for his dead brother's girlfriend, he has to contend with watching Videl and Gohan dance around each other. For Gohan, it must be raw. He's still the same age he'd been when he'd died. Really, he and Videl could have been dating a month ago in terms of how he remembers things – and now, what? She's engaged?

God, on top of that, his brother likes her too.

Goten's face burns from the shame of it.

"I'm a bad person," he mumbles.

Trunks doesn't like to feed self-pity. He continues scrolling. "Yup."

The dismissive tone makes Goten want to argue back. Gohan isn't her boyfriend now, he wants to say. She's engaged. Videl doesn't like teenagers; that's what she'd said to him. Gohan can't be with her. He shouldn't be with her.

He doesn't deserve her. He made his choice.

He killed himself.

Goten groans, raking his fingers down over his cheeks.

Nooo…

He slaps his hand down against the rooftop.

"Gohan is so nice!" he tells Trunks as manic absolution. "It's like he's not even real. Like, who is even this lovely and good and… and…? Eugh. You know, I bet I could tell him what's bothering me with Videl and he wouldn't even care. He'd just be really nice and let me be a total asshole."

The phone doesn't lower. "Probably."

"Everyone at Fire Mountain loves him."

"He's a friendly guy."

"Grandpa is obsessed. He keeps showing him all this old-timey war stuff."

"Ew."

"And then there's Dad."

Finally, Trunks puts down the phone and gives that signifying scowl, the one that tells Goten that he is about to get a lecture. "Gohan just got back. What do you expect? Everyone is still excited about it. The guy has been dead for six years and nobody thought he was coming home yet here he is. I know it's gotta' be weird but, man, you're just coming off as a bit of a dick to me. Why aren't you more buzzed about this? Gohan returning has been your biggest fantasy since you were like eight."

Goten groans, the guilt over-powering the frustration. "I know."

"And it's not like he's awful to you. You guys hang out a lot, right?"

"I know."

"And you just said that he's nice."

"I know."

"Your dad can be an asshole," Trunks continues, "My dad is always an asshole. I'd kill to have an older brother suddenly appear from the heavens, one who actually gives a shit about me."

Goten buries his head. "I don't get why I'm like this. Gohan's great."

"He is," Trunks says, surprisingly straightforward. Goten feels his friend's hand slap down on top of his head and give an affectionate pat. "So stop setting yourself up to fail."

The rest of the school day drags on painfully slow. At one point, both he and Trunks are pulled into the principal's office in an effort to curb the rumour mill. He asks them both about their involvement in the situation at the tournament, but before Goten can open his big mouth and ruin it all, Trunks tells the nosey geezer to speak to the Briefs family solicitor.

Goten doesn't even enquire about the after school printmaking club he'd considered joining this semester. After hearing Videl stand up for him to his mother about wanting to go into graphic design, he'd been tempted to branch out and venture down new artsy avenues.

But after a day like this he doesn't want to do much of anything.

And that extends to going to the old family house as promised.

"Just go," Trunks says, shoving him through the crowds of their peers.

"Can't you come?"

"I have student council."

"Lame."

Many of the other students try and reach out towards them but Trunks is even brasher than Goten. He actually trips one boy who shoves his phone in their faces, the recording likely having caught the entire interaction. Whether or not that makes the internet, they'll have to see, not that Trunks ever cares. He grew up in the spotlight, unlike Goten of who is struggling with the attention.

Goten never hated attention. In fact, he's always gotten a kick out of being the class clown and pulling his pranks. Whilst the girls never thought much of him, that's not why he did the things he did and so he never minded. Goten just likes to laugh, and he likes those around him to laugh, not at him but with him.

But this is different. This unwanted attention is making nobody laugh.

He ducks behind the bike shed to avoid lingering eyes, waiting there for nearly ten minutes before having enough privacy to take flight.

The one good thing about flying to 439 Mountain Area is how much closer it is compared to Fire Mountain. He'd often ride Nimbus to and from school because he could sit and do forgotten homework during the journey; it'd take that long. The flight to the house feels like a breeze in contrast. He arrives early in fact.

As he lands, Gohan is already in the garden waiting and sweating under the unusually hot September sun.

"How was school?" he immediately asks.

"It was school. Why are you so…?" Goten coughs, not wanting to be rude. His expression must say it all however.

Gohan grins. "Slimy? Disgusting? I've been weeding since lunch. I didn't think you'd get here this soon. I had planned on a bathing first but Dad's in there now. He snuck in when I wasn't looking. Nothing new there."

Now that Goten's properly looking, he notices that the garden appears remarkably less deranged than usual. It's no longer its very own jungle paradise, but instead a managed version of what it once was. The grass isn't wild and high, fallen rocks have been moved, and there is a pile of weeds plucked near the door, strewn over the gardening utensils Gohan's likely been using throughout the day; his weapons used to tame the beast.

"There's a lot to do, still," Gohan comments, wiping the sweat from his brow, "You wouldn't believe it but Dad's actually pretty good at gardening. He's done most of it."

"Maybe he should take it up then."

Gohan clicks his fingers. "I said that. I suggested that he start a plot; maybe get some vegetables on the go or something. By the Almighty, don't we know that he eats enough fish."

"By the… Almighty?"

"Ahh, my brain is fuzzy today. Ignore me. Too much sun." He fans himself, still sweating. "Anyway, take your shoes off, I'll show you inside."

The request has him recoil. "I'll wipe me feet on the way out, thanks."

"I promise that you'll be amazed."

And he is.

Seeing Gohan stand there, lopsided grin and all, in the perfectly clean rendition of the shack Goten knows it as, has him believe he's in a time warp. There are no bandages, no splotches of blood – the smell is gone – Goten can't see trash anywhere. It's exactly as Goten remembers from his childhood. And this is just the hallway!

He pushes past his brother and charges into the kitchen and the living room, finding them both equally spotless and smelling of lemons. Upstairs was never that bad but Gohan's cleaned there, too. Goten's room has remained untouched, likely out of respect, but otherwise, Gohan's taken a crack at everything. It's all exactly how it should be and so uncanny to see, as though Goten has been plunged back six years.

"You don't want to know what I pulled out of kitchen," Gohan teases.

Goten doesn't know what to say.

His brother has been back barely two weeks and he's managed to completely renovate the house.

In a more self-conscious tone, Gohan's voice drops. He nudges at Goten's shoulder. "Like it?"

No.

Yes.

I don't know.

Goten nods, numb, hoping Gohan will take it as shock. "It's amazing."

His brother's disposition changes completely, prospering at the praise. "I'm glad you approve! I know you're not enamoured with Fire Mountain so I think having somewhere clean to escape to will be great for you. I understood why you didn't like coming out here before. The smell was bad enough. But you don't have to worry about that now. I've spoken with Dad and warned him not to let it get gross again."

"Will be great for you…"

Goten swallows the glass in his throat. For him? Is that why Gohan did it? Him?

He's such a nice person.

He trails his hands down across his face, grunting and ignoring Gohan's questioning; Gohan's concern. Why is he so nice? Is it so strange? Why is Goten struggling with it? Is it because, like Trunks, Goten isn't used to it? Dad is a good person but he's not considerate. Mum is good person but she's not always nice.

Gohan is just…

Well, Gohan is just making him feel bad.

He's returned from the dead, pulled up his sleeves and bothered to put effort into something Goten has never wanted to.

God, I really am a loser.

"Hey, hey…" That paternal voice from memories buried returns. "What's wrong, Squirt?"

"You're just so nice," Goten eventually says, staring around his family home and feeling even less for it than usual. The smile is strained. "You're just really, really nice."

The laugh sounds weird. "Nice?"

"Yeah."

"I… Yeah, thanks."

It's like emerging from icy waters. After years of drowning in the unknown, Goku can breathe, he has his son home. Gohan is safe, and has been for weeks, cleaning the house and lovingly giving Goku a hard time about it. Whilst the cleaning itself has been tedious and time consuming, the company has been great.

Gohan is as kind, strong and wilful as he remembers, and so having him home has marked the best time of Goku's life, bar none. There's a relaxed comfort to being around Gohan. They've always had an easy-going relationship. It's never been difficult or turbulent like it has been recently with Goten; not that Goku compares, but it's hard not to notice. Gohan is not at all a moody teenager. A fact that Goku has recently learned is that teenagers have mood swings, and it's a normal part of the process in growing up. It had made a lot of sense when Bulma had told him a few months back. But Gohan shows none of this.

Goten boggles him with how quickly he can flip the switch and go into a mood. It gives him whiplash! In contrast, Gohan is calm and happy-go-lucky. He is the yin to Goten's yang.

My boys...

Knowing that they're both under his watch once more comforts him. The ice has melted and Goku now floats atop a warm ocean, breathing soundly.

There are still a few bubbles he needs to pop however. Piccolo and Vegeta are proving to be most stubborn. Gohan isn't stupid. He'll be sure to notice that the two have their issues with him.

When they realise it wasn't suicide then they'll see.

Shutting the door behind him, Goku steps back into his newly impeccable home, taking off his boots and putting them in the cubby before Gohan can lecture him about it. He's just been to collect more firewood as their stash of old furniture has been depleted now. Even if Gohan doesn't want to stay the night, they can use it whenever he next chooses to. They'd been spending most of their time back at Fire Mountain but Goku recognizes that Gohan isn't comfortable there. He's not keen either. It's a bit much for him and the people aren't always the friendliest. Nope, the next logical step would be to try and entice Chi-Chi back to the house, and then they could be a family again.

"I don't get it," Goku hears Gohan say from the living room.

"It's not difficult," Goten responds. "It's what it says on the tin."

"Goten—"

"Trust me. Just watch."

The door opens and Goku is faced with the uncommon sight of both of his boys lounging. Goten is sprawled over the armchair and Gohan is hunkered down at the coffee table with a foreboding book spread across it. He still has a towel around his neck from his bath, water dripping from it and onto the pages of his book. But he doesn't notice. They're both staring at the TV as though they'd never seen one before.

"So it's just slippery stairs?" Gohan asks, baffled. "I don't understand the point. Why?"

"Don't overthink it," Goten says, "It's in the name "Slippery Stairs". The contestants just need to get the treasure at the top."

"This isn't real."

"It is and it's awesome."

Gohan's head tilts so far left it looks ready to tumble free. "It's really…"

"Dumb, yes."

Goku has never understood the pleasure of watching TV and none so much as today. The people on the screen are running (more like falling) up the stairs over and over again after failing to get even a quarter of the way up. He wonders why they don't just fly, and then remembers that isn't how most people work. After watching for a minute, equally transfixed by the obscurity as his sons are, Goku pulls free of the bewitching program and sits on the sofa.

"How was school, Goten? Didn't you go back today?"

"School was school."

Gohan chuckles but doesn't look away from the TV. "Oh, it says there that they use Propylene Glycol for the stairs. I was wondering if it was oil."

"Don't overthink. Enjoy."

Goku tries to break through again. It's a surprise to have his youngest optionally hanging around here. "You staying for dinner, Goten?"

"Is it fish?"

"Do you want fish?" Both Goten and Gohan laugh and Goku feels like he's missing something. "Is that a… no?"

"Sorry," Gohan says, "How about I cook some of those vegetables we got in the village yesterday? They need eating. I think we have some pork, too."

It's a nice offer but Gohan's already done so much. "I can cook."

"It's okay, Dad, you can wash the dishes."

Oh, that's how it is. "Uwahh, no, no, no, I'll cook. I'll do it. I—"

The gentle rapping at the door is just enough to be heard over the unified chanting from the TV. Gohan lowers the volume and the knocking sounds once again, prompting him to turn and answer. It's strange to have callers this late, not that Goku gets many visitors. Perhaps it's the postman again, he thinks as he reaches the door. The old timer gets lost every other week and Goku has had to help him back to the main road more than once.

It's not.

It's Shin.

"Good evening," he greets evenly, "Your garden is very neat today. May I come in?"

It's not every day that a kai is knocking at his door so what can he say to that? Right away, Goku moves aside and allows passage, gesturing to the kitchen as he always does. The Supreme Kai has ventured by a good few times so it's not entirely startling to see him. When he does come he's usually equipped with either bad news or a task. Goku doubts today is an exception.

They move to the kitchen, where Shin takes a seat at the table. His eyes loiter around the room. The expression is one of approval. "Very tidy. Did you hire a cleaner?"

"Do I count?" Gohan asks from the doorway, Goten lingering behind much like a puppy on guard, "Hello, Supreme Kai."

Shin clasps his hands. "Gohan! I see you wasted no time in putting your foot down around here. What a lovely thing you've done."

There's an awkward, humble laugh and Gohan scratches at the base of his neck, just as Goku would. It makes Goku proud. Gohan's always been a nice, good person. It's good that he'd get praised for it.

"And good evening to you, Goten," Shin greets next, "I hope you're well. You managed extraordinarily the other week against the Zealites, but I know it took a lot out of you. Have you had a nice rest?"

Goten's gaze grows sturdy. "I'm fine."

No dummy; Goten is equally aware what Shin's presence means. He's always hated the stopovers.

Shin clears his throat. "Well, let's get to it then. By nature, we kais are busy people and have many a matter to attend to so I will try to keep it short. Actually, I have to say that it's relief that you're here too, Gohan, if only to spare me relaying the message once more. I've already visited with Vegeta and Piccolo earlier today about the topic at hand."

"What?" Goku's words leave as a waspish heave. "Is it to do with Gohan?"

Shin startles. "No, well, not in sense you are concerned about. I am only involving Gohan because I believe it would be fair to recognize him as one of Earth's foremost warriors."

"He just got back," Goten states, vehement. "You don't expect him to—"

"That would be up to Gohan, wouldn't it? Oh, and up to you, too, Goku, and his mother; whatever respective parent he would need authority from, really."

Goku looks between both his sons. There isn't as much a difference in height as Goku imagined there to be. How can he allow one and not the other? "Err… Why don't you just tell me what's going on first?"

"I suppose that's fair. Piccolo had been equally cautious when I first found him. I cannot begrudge your anxiety considering this planet's history."

The seat opposite is taken and Gohan's straight to the point. "Is this about the Zealites?"

"Yes, it is."

"Are they here?" Goku looks towards the window and the night sky. He can't feel anything but that doesn't mean much these days. "I don't think I'd have a problem taking the main Zealite guy this time, not after achieving Super Saiyan God."

"It's not always about a battle of power, Goku. And no, they are not here, at least to our current knowledge."

"Those guys were super underhanded," Goten adds lowly, "I've never seen anyone fight like they did."

Gohan's head springs up. "They didn't hurt you, right?"

"No, they didn't… That Lord Beerus guy, though… That's a different story. He's a monster."

There's a swoop of guilt at Goten's words. He hadn't done enough that day, Goku knows. So much was going on but he had still allowed for Goten to be hurt in the way that he was, and he feels like there isn't any excuse for that. Goten is a kid and shouldn't have been there, period. Next time, Goku'll do better, for both of them. Neither will be hurt again.

The frustration in Gohan's eyes says otherwise, however. Dissuading him from the fight looks like it will be a battle all its own.

"Lord Beerus is not atypical of his type," Shin then says, carefully at that. "Destroyers in general have a temperamental personality, and a bit of an ego if I'm going to be entirely honest, though you didn't hear that from me."

"Destroyers?"

"A type of god."

"A type? Uh, how many are there?"

"Enough to keep me on my toes," Shin says, amused by something unsaid. He sobers. "And maybe you, too, for that matter. That's why I'm here in part. It looks like this Zealite business extends far beyond the scope of Earth, as we have come to realize. It has ascended into the realm of politicized agendas."

"Eh? I don't get you."

"It means that the Zealites have a benefactor," Gohan tells him.

"That's right. We are unsure of their leader as of yet."

Goku isn't. "It's the guy I fought at the tournament! He has the ability to split his form many times over at no cost of his own power. Most of the Zealites on that day had been copies, copies at full strength but copies; I'm sure of it."

"Yes," Shin hums, dubious, "I have heard similar reports of such a technique. We are still researching the issue. Though, in doing so, the status quo on Earth may become challenged." Three blank faces stare back at him and so he elaborates. "We will be posting two of the kai champions here at all times, for Earth's safety of course."

"Champions?"

"Of course," Gohan parrots slowly. Goku can see the cogs in that big brain working but no additional comment is made.

"That's what you came to tell us?" queries Goten. "No big monster for Dad to fight?"

Shin chuckles. "Not right now, no. I am simply here to relay the news that you should expect the champions, that and perhaps the odd unfamiliar face around here. The kais are becoming increasingly more interested in the situation, and I'm glad for it. I have been trying to get this concern recognized by them over the last few years. It's just unfortunate that, once again, it has fallen back to Earth and for that should the time come, Goku, I will need you to step up. And Gohan, you too should your parents permit it."

"But not me?"

"You're fourteen," Gohan nippily tells him, ironically, even Goku realises.

"Oh yeah and Cell graciously waited for you to hit puberty, right?"

Gohan nearly slips off his chair. "Goten."

"You're seventeen, barely older."

"My apologies, I did not mean to cause strife!" Shin raises a hand in a bid for peace, "Forget I mentioned anything. I feel like it will make hardly the difference anyway. Lord Beerus had only mentioned you, Goku, by name. Despite what he said the other week, I think you left quite the impression on him."

Somehow Goku doesn't think that's a good thing.

"Yes, in fact, he said to make you the official named defender of the planet."

"That doesn't change much," Goten snipes, "That's been his role since forever."

Gohan isn't pleased either. His brow furrows. "What do you mean by official, Supreme Kai?"

"It gives your father a level of accountability when it comes to the decisions made regarding the planet. I would wager that it is more of a reward than a punishment. Because of the newly achieved divinity, Goku's voice can now reach important ears; he's valued, respected, at least enough to be levied with decision over a planet."

Again, Gohan doesn't look exactly thrilled by the news. "So he's Earth's representative?"

"Yes."

Realization strikes and the dull thud of dread hits. "Do I have to go to meetings and wear fancy—?"

"Oh, no, heavens, no." Shin actually laughs. "No. But wouldn't that be rather funny?"

"It's all about face, Dad," Gohan says, "I can't imagine they'll want someone pottering around with godly status and doing nothing with it."

"Oh." That's all right, then.

"That is on the nose, unfortunately. The system is not benevolent enough to—" Shin's words are quickly swallowed by the roar of mechanical life ripping overhead. "Good… Good heavens, what is that?"

Goku reaches the garden before the others, just in time to be caught in the eyes by set of white beams shining down. It courses past him and over his garden, soon to be joined by billowing wind. The piled up weeds are long gone, sprawled wherever the wind carried them and probably rooting down once more.

The Supreme Kai does not look impressed. "What is that? An Earth creature?"

"Heh-heh, no. It's a helicopter."

"No," Gohan steps out next. "That's… a jetcopter."

The black in the trees ripple green under the light until dyeing black once the engine gives its final cry. The wind settles, the parking lights flash and the door opens, revealing one very awkward looking Videl Satan.

She trips as she tumbles out of the copter. Goku expects it to be Gohan who catches her, but his feet have rooted much like the weeds and he remains as still as the strongest of them. No, it's Goten who helps her out, setting her down nicely as Gohan watches, face unreadable.

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This is a bit later than planned! Sorry! It's longer than planned but that's hardly unusual. KaguriAsuha made sure it made my fingers bleed by the time I was done. Tbf, her eyes probably bled just as much with the first rendition of the chapter, as it didn't hold up, ya see, and needed a bloody good bout of tweaking. She's good to me like that. Thank you, Kags!

Also, I want to take a moment of your day as to pray with you. EmeraldSaiyan has not updated since the dawn of time but I feel the time is drawing nearer. I need that bloody fic updated. Let us hope. Missy ES, I'm looking at you. The DBZ well of fic is drying. I need'ja.

I really don't have much to say, especially on the chapter really. It speaks for itself. Gohan is nice and that's that, I guess.

Oh, I'll tell you what though, back when Gohan first came to Earth and he woke up (the nasty cliffy), I had to be RESTRAINED in updating the next day with "I'm Never Gonna' Give You Up" lyrics. Rick Rolling would have breathed new life into this fic I swear. Perhaps by next chapter, I'll have some more art or something to share. I need to show Roarg.

As always, thanks to all your fab reviews. I can't reply to guest ones but I think they're uber neato too. Follows and favs are also appreciated and greatly so. Just so you know, when I get my little email blip from FF, a fairy somewhere comes to life and dances around the fanfiction totem, sending me angsty nerd vibes to write.