Chapter 2 : Sparks of life
There was a profound calm in this sparsely frequented hospital. With the rise of superpowers, there had been a wave of brawls among individuals globally. Consequently, this once-significant hospital, bustling with numerous patients, found itself below average. It was for the better, yet a few days ago, a hero named EraserHead had brought in a young man, barely ten years old.
The doctors were dismayed to see such a case; so many potentially fatal injuries on such a young person... The diagnosis was alarming: multiple fractures, a massive wound on the shoulder, and a head trauma, according to EraserHead, who was the only one to speak with the so-called "Gohan".
According to him, he suffered from memory loss, likely due to his injuries. Specialists confirmed that this was possible, and that he needed to be kept as long as possible to best assess the situation's severity.
And it had only been six days since he was in the hospital, in a deep sleep. A doctor had used his quirk (alter) to induce a longer sleep than expected so that his wounds could be treated and he could get the necessary rest. The chief surgeon, one of the most renowned in Asia, took care of his case and managed to treat him, leaving him with only a long scar on his right shoulder and other smaller ones on the rest of the body. However, the doctor found a way to recover an appendage in the lower back, thanks to his quirk specialized in muscle and bone reconstruction.
On the morning of the seventh day, the medical team decided to wake him up as his sleep was no longer a priority. Everyone in the team was eager to have answers about his case, which had been reported by the media as a minor incident but didn't make much noise.
The surgeon who operated on him then entered the room, accompanied by a handful of colleagues, to bring him out of his artificial coma…
The first thing he felt upon waking was an excruciating pain in the shoulder, primarily, but also throughout the rest of his body, though to a lesser extent. When he opened his eyes, he had to acclimate to the omnipresent whiteness; once accustomed, he made out the architecture of the place. It was a room, with two beds, a few armchairs, and a television on the wall. However, what surprised him most was not the room's setting; there were four people in white coats to his left, looking a bit stressed but also relieved. This puzzled the lost young man's mind, who couldn't find a reason for his presence there.
He didn't quite remember how he ended up here, but he knew something wasn't right. What was he doing here, without his parents and friends? They would never have left him alone in such a place.
Then, it all came back to him in a flash, and the pain was unbearable, as if a blade had pierced his guts. Despite his body's state, he immediately got up from the bed and stared at the people in front of him – he was in the hospital. A man had brought him here for treatment.
"Easy, we're your doctors," one of the group said gently. They all looked at him in surprise to see him get up so quickly, but in a world with superpowers, it wasn't that shocking.
Gohan stared at them for a few seconds, assessing any potential danger, but he didn't sense any. These people didn't possess great powers, at least not like his, and they seemed peaceful. Perhaps they would have answers to his questions?
"My name is Son Gohan. Excuse me, but where exactly am I?" he asked simply, truly curious and a bit anxious.
"We are in a hospital on the outskirts of Kyoto, one of Japan's largest cities…" began the chief surgeon, before pausing upon seeing his patient's crestfallen face. He could read in his eyes a real sense of fear and incomprehension, the two always seemed to go hand in hand.
"Kyo...to? Japan? But... but where am I? I... You... may I have a world map?" he managed to ask, albeit with difficulty. He felt genuinely troubled and didn't know what to do or say to get an answer. He doubted he was on Earth; he knew world geography precisely, and a city of this size shouldn't be unknown to him.
The doctors exchanged glances, then the one in the middle finally spoke:
"Of course. EraserHead, the hero who came to your aid, warned us; it seems you are suffering from a head trauma, and possibly amnesia. However, we will need to talk more about you, your power, and your injuries on arrival. We managed to treat you, and thanks to my power, I succeeded in regrowing a lost appendage, apparently long-lost."
In all this stress, the young half-breed hadn't found the time to examine his condition. He was in pain, but nothing unbearable, and most of the visible wounds were dressed. The one on his shoulder, which had shielded Vegeta, wasn't fully healed yet, but it would heal in time. He would have to be patient until he found a senzu bean.
His eyes dropped to his back, and he spotted a furry appendage lost for many years. His monkey tail, a sign of his Saiyan race, had been ripped off during his fight against the Saiyans in his youth. If there was one thing he didn't expect to see again, it was this. Gohan wasn't sure what to think; was this a good thing?
Yes and no. He regained a part of his anatomy, maybe a part of his power, but the full moon... he might transform involuntarily and harm or even kill, and he could never forgive himself for that.
Keeping this tail entailed significant responsibilities, but he had other questions to ask at this moment. He shifted his focus to the doctor holding a small device in his hand; Goku's son had no idea what it could be.
The man in front of him coughed and handed him the device. "Here is a world map," he added before turning to his group as the young man furrowed his brows at the glass screen.
What was this strange object? He wondered internally as he tried to use it. In front of him was a map with disparate continents and several seas, quite different from what he knew. His planet consisted of one vast and diverse continent and a single ocean surrounding it. This was not his planet, so where was he? How had he landed here?
Then suddenly, he remembered the strange portal that had engulfed him. The shock was such that he couldn't tell if his energy wave had ended Cell; his memories were blurry, so blurry…
"I don't recognize this place. I don't know where we are, where I live, or where my parents are... I am alone," he finally said, fear rising within him.
"That's what we feared… You are amnesic. The injuries you sustained could have killed most men, no matter how tenacious, yet you walked miles alone in the forest before finding our town and hospital. You are a miracle. A survivor. You will likely recover your memories in the near future, don't worry. Let's sit down and talk, it will be better."
Gohan sat on the bed, extremely uncomfortable, holding back his tears and fear with difficulty, but he did not want to shame his parents. He was going to resolve the crisis alone and return home, whatever obstacles he might face!
"What do you remember last? Don't be afraid, I'm here to help, you can talk to me without fear," the doctor tried to reassure him, placing a hand on the young man's shoulder and smiling kindly at him.
"I... remember my father's death... that monster killed him. He tortured my friends..." he declared before bursting into tears. The physical pain he felt was nothing compared to his wounded spirit. It was too much to bear all at once, and the memory of his fight against Cell did not help him regain his calm. The memories came back in a blur: the death of Android 16, his transformation, his arrogance, and finally his father's heroic sacrifice. "All my fault, if I had been quicker and less arrogant…"
The man in front of him placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and gave him time to regain control of himself; he was horrified to hear such news.
A supervillain had killed this teenager's parents and was very likely planning to do the same to him. How had Son Gohan escaped death? Perhaps the villain thought he had killed him, but how could they be sure? All this was really worrying.
Many tears and minutes passed before the young man calmed down, then the doctor spoke. "I am sincerely sorry, it's horrible. Take the time you need to talk to us about it."
For the first time since his awakening, young Son felt overwhelmed by regret. If he had been smarter in fighting Cell and killed him as soon as he had the chance, none of this would have happened.
But beyond this immense sense of pain was confusion; what was he doing here? How and why had a 'portal' sent him to this world? What was he supposed to do to get back home? Was it even possible?
He had no idea what to do, and that was what worried him the most. What should he do now? Stay here and heal? And then what, where to start his search?
"Enough, Gohan, stop being afraid. Rationalize, look for a solution," Piccolo would have said to him in his stern yet comforting way.
He was scared. He was hurting. Yet, he would fight to return home, to find a solution; he must not lose hope.
Alright, he needed to find a quiet place, learn more about his environment, and find answers. Once he had the important information, he could start planning his return. The smiling images of his loved ones came to his mind, hurting him deeply. How was he going to do this alone?
His father and Piccolo had trained him to be a fighter, a survivor, but not an investigator. These people didn't seem bad, but where would he live in the meantime? Eating wouldn't be a problem; hunting would suffice.
A terrifying thought struck the back of his consciousness: Could he be stuck here? No...no, he would return home, but when?
"Young man, I need to tell you something important. If… if you are truly alone, and I believe you, you'll need to find a new home. The hospital isn't one."
"But where, where will I go?"
The surgeon grimaced. "Well, there are several options: An orphanage or adoption. You're too young for the third option."
Although curious about this third option, he didn't ask any questions. What misfortune, already alone without his parents, and now he was being asked to mourn and live with someone else. How could he accept it? He couldn't see anyone else as his parents. He would return and find his father and mother.
The other option was the orphanage. The thought made him shiver, and he looked at the doctor with fear; he might well end up there. He didn't want to go, not to such a sad place. He would find a way to return home soon.
"Don't be afraid, we will keep you here for several days to check your recovery. You need at least two or three weeks of rest to fully recover. The state will pay for the care since you are too young. Then, the families wishing to adopt will come to see you at the orphanage. A government reform helps adoptive parents with the expenses; it's terrible to see how beings corrupted by their power can destroy lives."
Gohan nodded; he had witnessed more than enough of the violence that power could bring. All the monsters he had fought alongside his friends and father had shown him how inhuman it was to be so strong, and how a man could turn into a monster. Trunks' stories immediately came to mind; the cyborgs were humans, not just machines programmed to obey.
To ensure peace lasts, it must be protected from wicked beings, corrupted by their vile desires for destruction. Frieza and Cell had no real reason, only a desire to destroy, to profit from people's misery. They fed on the source of misery; they thrived on the evil they caused. This is how monsters live.
This reality will find no end, Gohan simply noted with a sigh. He looked out the window, leaned back against his pillow, and faced the doctor. So be it, the young man would go through these trials to return home. He had to recover first and foremost; no senzu beans or Dende would be there to heal him. He was in a foreign world, so he needed to find information about the current situation. Clarity was absolutely necessary.
"Fine," he reluctantly accepted, seeing it as the only solution. Once at the orphanage, he could start his search and hopefully find a way back. The doctor gave him that pity-tinged smile that hurt Gohan. He was no longer a child, he never really had been, so seeing people treat him like this was uncomfortable.
Goku's son looked out the window for a long time while the doctor maintained silence, which was just as well. They remained like this for some time, maybe ten, fifteen minutes, but it didn't matter.
"I'll leave you now. Don't hesitate to call us, we'll never be far away from you."
So the young man stayed in bed, watching the rich city of Kyoto and its beautiful urban landscapes. He felt empty and so alone... sometimes, he turned his head, expecting to see a familiar, friendly face. Anything to reassure him and tell him everything would be alright, but this place was so cold that nothing could warm him up. The blankets weren't cold, they were icy.
The boy shivered and held back his feelings and emotions; he had to be strong if he wanted to return home.
The days passed slowly, and he was recovering from his injuries, although he learned that he would have a scar for life on his shoulder and some less significant ones on the rest of his body. He was recovering quite well, and a week had already passed.
He was making slight progress in his investigation; this world was bewildering, and he didn't know how to react to what he had seen and heard. His doctor, with whom he had filled out official documents about himself, then told him about quirks. The powers that many people were born with, which was fascinating. If he was better, he wouldn't hesitate to research this topic.
When the doctor left, after spending an hour or two with him, he watched television and the broadcasted programs. If there was one that was recurrent, it was about All Might, the greatest of all heroes. Gohan readily admitted that the man had charisma to spare and seemed rather strong, even if his fighting style was horribly sloppy in the eyes of a martial arts expert.
If this All Might ever encountered someone with the same physical strength but superior technique, it was likely he would lose the duel within a minute. This was concerning since he was supposed to protect the world from the greatest threats. Moreover, according to the media, the man was nowhere to be found, rumored to be either on vacation or with a mistress.
Honestly, all the programs were dreadfully boring, and it was a struggle to extract any valuable information, but it was all he had. He couldn't realistically leave the hospital, so he had to make do with what was available. Even if he could leave, where would he go? What would it change about his situation?
Today wouldn't be more exciting, but the doctor had warned him that he would have a visitor. The hero who had 'saved' him was coming to check on him, which, of course, made Gohan uncomfortable. Barely understanding where he was, now a man was coming to question him about himself.
But if this man was like his doctor, then he didn't have much to fear. Goku's son had only vague memories of his 'savior'; he remembered walking a long distance, injured and alone, nothing more.
Hours passed with no remarkable signs other than the inevitable setting of the sun and the rising of the moon. The moon terrified the Saiyan. Any mistake on his part could result in the deaths of hundreds, thousands of innocents, causing him bouts of anxiety every nightfall.
The doctor noticed it and he lied, saying it was about his terrible memories, which was only a half-truth. His memories kept returning to his mind, and his guilt was dragging him down, but the thought of losing control and killing innocent people was simply abominable.
Yet, he couldn't find the strength to remove the appendage; it was symbolic. It signified his Saiyan heritage and displayed his past; removing it would be like admitting he was giving up all hope. This monkey tail was the only link to his past, along with the scar on his shoulder. Without it, he felt like he would no longer be the same.
It was a strange feeling, but as much as he hated the tail, he also cherished it and learned to control it. Complicated, but a good distraction to forget the passing time.
Every time he closed his eyes, a small voice inside him whispered: "You cannot win this conflict." "You will turn into a monster, like Cell or Frieza. You are no different from them, you who are responsible for your father's death."
So he cried for a long time, unable to sleep. At times, he wanted to give up, remembering his poor condition. Although he tried to motivate himself by saying he was no longer a child, it was false; he was the son of Goku and Chi-Chi, and without them, he felt so alone.
Nothing felt familiar to him, and it was in this cold hospital that he was healing, surrounded by complete strangers. Suddenly, a visitor announced themselves. It must have been around eighteen or nineteen o'clock; the meal service wouldn't pass for a while, and the doctor must have gone home. Who could it be?
"Come in," he said, vigilant and ready for any confrontation.
The door opened, revealing a tall man dressed all in black, with dry eyes and a pallid complexion. He wore a long white scarf that covered the lower part of his face, but Gohan could see a thin smile forming on his exhausted features. It was Shota Aizawa, also known as EraserHead, the man who had come to his aid and brought him here.
"Hello," the hero said politely. "Do you remember me? I'm Shota Aizawa, but my hero name is EraserHead."
"I remember you, my memories are a bit vague about that specific day, but yes I haven't forgotten your face or the fact that you helped me. Thank you," Gohan said, sitting up slightly, then pointed to a wooden chair near the bed for the hero to sit on. The discussion could last a while.
"My pleasure. I came to talk to you about the state I found you in; I want you to tell me everything you know so that I can conduct an investigation and find the villain who injured you so badly. I can help you if you tell me everything you know," Aizawa declared slowly, analyzing each gesture of the young man in front of him, thinking it would not be easy when he noticed his hard and cold gaze.
The half-blood wasn't sure what to say; he hadn't said much to the doctor and had hoped things would stay where he left them. It was apparently not the case, so how could he tell this man that an investigation would be pointless because he didn't even come from this world? Sharing this information would make him look crazy; he had to keep quiet and move forward alone. He could do it; it's not like Aizawa could help him in any way.
Cell had injured him, killed his father, and tortured his friends. It was simple for him, but in this world, his worst enemy never existed, at least to his knowledge. The world seemed to be in a very prosperous peace, and people did not seem to have experienced any significant crises for a long time, as a man robbing a convenience store was considered a supervillain according to the news he had seen earlier in the day. He would have definitely heard about it if Cell had existed in this... place.
"You can talk, whatever you did, you have nothing to fear from the law. The doctor told me a villain hurt you."
Gohan sighed and glanced at the window, wishing so much to leave, and he could, but it would be so cowardly and vain, leading him nowhere. What could he say to this 'hero' to be left alone?
He stared into the pallid man's eyes, and a rather heavy atmosphere set in. He didn't want to give an answer, but the other wanted one; they were stuck until one of them gave up. Goku's son didn't want to talk about what he had lived and the immense loss that was eating him up inside. As long as he didn't think about it, he felt like he was under medication; nothing really touched him, but he felt nothing, time passed in a strange blur, and that was all he asked for in exchange for not having to think about it. Yet his nightmares, every night, harshly reminded him that he couldn't escape his past and all he had experienced.
Aizawa would never be able to help him as he hoped; never could this man help him find his parents and friends... if they were still alive. He hadn't seen Cell being taken by the portal that brought him here, but he couldn't be sure. If Cell was alive, wherever he might be, it terrified him.
"I..." he began with dim eyes and a tone containing his burgeoning emotions. "I don't want to talk about it, it's too hard."
The hero said nothing and stared at the young man, not knowing what he had been through, but it was serious. The boy seemed psychologically scarred by his experiences, and it was likely he wouldn't open up for a long time. Yet, Aizawa needed answers as soon as possible; if the villain who had injured Son Gohan was still active, he needed information for his investigation. "Take your time. Start with what seems most important to you."
Goku's son couldn't tell the exact truth, but he couldn't lie either. If he told the truth, he would be perceived as a madman, a patient needing treatment. And if he needed treatment, he wouldn't be able to move around to gather information, and therefore, know why he was here. He would have to... manage on his own. He inhaled, and an image of his smiling parents appeared in his mind.
"The villain's name was Cell; he wanted to kill my father and our friends, seeking to fight the planet's strongest warriors," he said softly, with little confidence.
Aizawa raised an eyebrow but didn't seem particularly shocked. Villains could be very violent and didn't necessarily act with well-established reasons. Several heroes died simply because a villain wanted to massacre civilians. However, Aizawa noticed that the young man used the imperfect tense, which meant certain things. "What happened?"
Gohan trembled, which didn't go unnoticed; the memory was still very fresh. Perhaps another hero would have been more compassionate, but EraserHead had to get information quickly to prevent other tragedies like Gohan's and his family's. The hero didn't move from his seat, feeling slightly guilty for having to pressure the boy.
"He… Cell and my father fought, but my father couldn't defeat him. He passed the baton to me because he knew I could defeat him."
Surprise, disgust, and finally incomprehension were Shouta's first impressions, as he began to carefully note down the information in his notebook. He had obtained a lot of key information for his investigation, but he wasn't sure if he should continue to question Gohan; he might close up.
However, the half-blood inhaled deeply and looked his interlocutor in the eyes. His eyes filled with suffering and regret. Shouta had witnessed several tragedies throughout his life and career, but this gaze would mark him for life. He couldn't abandon the boy, not if he was so deeply hurt.
"I... I couldn't find the strength to fight Cell, I was too scared. But... but he hurt my friends and my father in front of my eyes. He even killed one of my friends..."
The pieces were falling into place for the hero. A villain with a grudge against the young man's family, wanting to sow chaos, had attacked Gohan and his family, along with friends. This meant he had deliberately attacked during a gathering. He even killed in front of the boy: psychological torture. A shiver ran through his tired body and soul. It was absolutely horrific.
"I... I fought Cell and gained the upper hand. I was angry, and I wanted to make him suffer as he had made those I love suffer. I was too arrogant, and it's because of me that my father is dead," Gohan whispered, completely opening up to the stranger, perhaps because he had no other choice, perhaps because he couldn't bear the loneliness anymore.
Aizawa placed a hand on the boy's shoulder, not knowing much yet, but he was sure it couldn't be the son's fault that the father had died. The certainty in the victim's voice silently frightened him; what could he possibly do?
Son gathered all his courage and looked at the hero in front of him, who no longer seemed as intimidating as when he first arrived. A silence settled for several minutes, and Eraserhead began to move, thinking he wouldn't get any more information for the time being. He already knew much more than at the beginning.
However, after a few steps, the boy stood up and grabbed the back of his costume, surprising Shouta. He did not expect Gohan to move again, let alone speak to him. He turned around and saw him analyzing him with his gaze.
"Cell killed my father. And I killed Cell."
Involuntarily, Aizawa gasped, shocked by the revelation. He had understood from the beginning that the father had died in combat, but that the son had killed the villain surprised him. He didn't know what to think and remained deathly silent for about ten seconds before gathering his breath.
The boy had killed, and he had seen death. Far too much for a child of his age, too much for most people to bear. And he had been alone for days in this hospital, surely recalling the terrible events. "It's going to be okay," he murmured with more determination than he thought he had.
All the pieces of the puzzle were gathered, only one was missing: how had the boy reached the city, and how had the battle not been detected by any hero?
"You're safe here; you're not in danger."
Son released his grip and sighed heavily, the last words seemed to calm him, or at least give him a minimum of rest. The boy looked out the window, then he cried, suddenly, the facade broke. The strength and will were impressive, the fact that he had told everything despite the pain showed an unusual determination for a ten-year-old. Shouta didn't move, not knowing if physical contact would help alleviate the suffering. Only time would ease the pain.
Aizawa had hated villains since his youth, even more so when he became a hero, but some of them acted according to codes, values, albeit misguided, but they were understandable. This Cell was not understandable; he was a monster who had made a child suffer and turned him into an orphan.
He had so many questions to ask the child, but he couldn't articulate them. The incredibly heavy atmosphere prevented him, yet he wanted to help the boy. On the other hand, the villain was considered dead, according to the only witness, and digging deeper could be extremely dangerous for the young man's mental health. The case would likely be closed after his report, but the boy's future seemed uncertain.
"What's going to happen now?" asked Gohan, wiping away his tears and forcing his face to appear confident and sure of himself.
Despite the suffering and the interrogation, he showed strength, confirming Shouta's earlier thoughts. This boy had an extraordinary childhood; he had certainly known other battles than against this Cell. He had likely been raised to become a future fighter.
"Don't worry, I will conduct my investigation and file my report. You're not in any danger."
A new silence fell, lighter this time. The young man seemed relieved and more serene. Pain and fear were still visible in his eyes, but they were diminished compared to his arrival. Aizawa smiled weakly at the boy and vowed to return to see how he was doing later, after making some progress. He still needed a few more details, but the most important was now known.
Gohan returned to his bed, wincing as he sat down. The wound on his shoulder still seemed painful. He looked at the hero, unsure of what to say.
"Thank you, Gohan," Shouta began kindly before asking, "Do you want me to visit you again later?"
The boy seemed uncertain, he didn't show it directly, but as a hero trained at UA, Eraserhead could notice the slightest micro-expression. "For the investigation?"
Clearly, he was not at all comfortable talking about his past again, which was understandable given the significant trauma. Indeed, he wanted to return for some additional information, but perhaps also just to get to know the boy better.
Society was cruel, and the young man risked ending up alone in an orphanage, who knows for how long? Perhaps months, years? He needed someone to count on. Aizawa couldn't completely lie, he would come back to learn more, but that wasn't all. "Not only for that."
Son judged him with a look but quickly stopped doubting. "Okay."
"Goodbye, Gohan," he declared, moving towards the entrance door.
"Goodbye."
Aizawa left the room, thoughtful.
Gohan allowed himself to sigh when he left the room. At first, he didn't know what to do or say. But he had decided to trust the hero, he didn't know exactly why, but he just did. Something about him was reminiscent of Piccolo, his energy emitted the same waves, hard but friendly at heart.
Quickly, he found himself declaring most of his story; he couldn't really do otherwise, after all, he had already told the doctor a part of his story. He couldn't lie, at least not completely. Of course, he kept silent about the strange portal that had brought him to this world. He would have been taken for a madman.
During the conversation, Gohan understood that it was better to confess everything so that Aizawa would take note and not seek to learn more. He would obviously try to learn more about the identity of his parents and friends, but it was inevitable at this point. He would have to manage when the time came; he had no other choice.
Admitting to killing Cell was complicated, partly because he wasn't convinced it was really the case. It was possible that Dr. Gero's creation wasn't dead since their Kamehameha duel hadn't ended when the portal took him away.
On the other hand, because he didn't know what Eraserhead would think of him, he might see him as a monster. He had been extremely afraid, but he had to say it so the hero would consider the story closed. Gohan hoped that if there was no more villain, there would be no more investigation. It was naive, but he was a disoriented child surrounded by strangers.
Gohan lay in his bed and stared at the ceiling for a long time. He didn't know what the future held for him, he didn't know when he would be free, when he could get information about this world. He didn't know when he could go back home.
Could he even return home?
Needless to say, Gohan didn't sleep a single minute that night.
On the other side of the city, in the middle of the night.
Viewing the city from the heights was a rare pleasure, one that Eraserhead cherished. He watched for any crime in this part of the city, but his mind was elsewhere. Several hours had passed since his interview with Goku's son, yet he couldn't fully come to terms with the tragedy.
He felt pity for the boy; what he had experienced was monstrous, and there wasn't much he could do to help. He couldn't even bring the villain to justice to provide Gohan with some peace of mind because he was already dead. The young man's family had been exterminated, simply put, and he was left alone in the hospital, mourning his losses. Shouta hoped that the young man would one day be able to move on in his life, grieve, and find happiness. But that wouldn't happen for a long time.
At least a decade or two might be necessary for such a thing, and that with significant support. The boy needed a family, people to rely on, at the very least; otherwise, he might turn out badly. At best, he would isolate himself from society and live unhappily. At worst, he could become violent and hunt down all villains to seek vengeance.
The young man seemed relatively calm despite his tragedy and seemed to be holding up. Of course, he was suffering, a lot even, but the fact was that he had managed to talk to Eraserhead and confide a large part of his story, enough to fill the gaps in his investigation.
Yet, he didn't think this was the end of it all. This was just the beginning. Now, it was necessary to take care of him, watch over his safety. Aizawa could no longer close his eyes to the young man's condition; it was his duty to keep an eye on him. That was why he had asked Gohan if he could visit him later, to ensure he would be okay.
To ensure he would have a viable future because it wasn't too late to make sure of that.
Shouta sighed and watched the nightlife from the rooftop. A distant scream caught his attention; he had to act.
"Everything is fine now! Because I am here!" boomed the powerful voice of All Might from the television. Gohan watched the documentary about the greatest of heroes, the Symbol of Peace, with fascination. He had no doubt that his father and this man would have gotten along like brothers, which was enough for him to love and respect the man.
Even though Goku might not have been the sharpest pencil in the box, he embodied the most beautiful values. His father was an example to follow, at least in that regard. He would have loved this world and its heroes, protecting the innocent.
Gohan was very curious about the heroic system in place in Japan; he found it wonderful that people were protecting those in need. They were good people, and Gohan hoped deep down that people could see him in the same way if he helped them. For now, it was impossible.
The hospital prevented any departure, considering that his condition did not yet allow it, and that he needed to rest. Yet, he felt in perfect shape, if anyone asked him. He still had pain in his shoulder, and according to the doctor, he was recovering faster than expected, but he still had two weeks before he could use it normally with minimal pain.
Regarding his other injuries, nothing was really serious, although they would remain for life as marks of his battle against Cell. Apart from the one on his shoulder, he counted sixteen cuts and healing wounds, most of them on his chest and back, and a pair on his legs. Most of them no longer caused him much pain.
However, his monkey tail worried him. It was nice to live with it, but he couldn't control it well yet; it was still too wild. Fortunately, he went to bed very early and never looked at the moon; he feared losing control and transforming into an Ozaru. Nevertheless, he was hopeful that he would manage and gain control with a little time.
"For over twenty years, All Might has protected and watched over us. Since that day, he has been considered the symbol of peace and justice, protecting Japan from villains," declared the female journalist's voice. It was soothing to Gohan's ears to hear that a man was protecting all these people, and he held great respect for the hero.
It was especially soothing not to think about Cell and his family. The man's smile allowed him momentarily to forget his pain and focus only on his bright smile.
Time passed like this for him; he woke up early in the morning, watched TV, ate a bit, chatted with the doctor, and then went to bed. Things were rhythmic, simple, and unchanging. It was welcome for him. He had trouble sleeping, his memories constantly haunting him, Cell's cruel smile, and his father's death... sometimes he saw his mother, saw himself telling her she would never see her husband again. Then he would wake up in tears, painfully staring at the strange white and uniform walls, foreign to his world.
A few hours passed, it was around three o'clock. Someone knocked on the door. It wasn't the doctor's schedule. Gohan got up with difficulty, turned off the TV, and walked to the door. He looked at the doorknob with dismay; whoever it was, he really wished they would leave quickly. He opened it abruptly, meeting Aizawa's jaded eyes.
"Hello, Gohan. May I come in?" he asked after a few seconds of silence.
"Yes, of course," he stammered before remembering his manners. He bowed politely and greeted the man. He didn't really want to see him; the memory of their conversation instantly resurfaced.
"I talked to your doctor when I arrived. He told me you'd be released in two weeks. Is that right?" he asked, sitting on the wooden chair next to his bed.
"Yes, he thinks I'm in too much pain to move around," Son replied simply, sitting down on his bed.
Aizawa quickly assessed his physical condition and shrugged. "What do you think?"
It was an odd question, considering he hadn't come to discuss his investigation. Gohan took the change of topic with great relief, as he had no desire to talk about it. He casually responded, "I'm still in pain, but I'm eager to get out. I think I can walk, even run, without much trouble. It's just my shoulder that hurts."
"Ah, interesting. You see, I start my patrol at 11 p.m. Would you like to go out, just for a walk?"
The offer was unexpected, but he couldn't refuse. Finally, he had a chance to see the city, to wander a bit. Leaving this place seemed liberating. "Yes!" he exclaimed joyfully, before realizing a slightly awkward detail. "Uh… I don't have any clothes to wear."
To that, Shouta just gave a faint smile and pulled out some discreet clothes from his unnoticed bag. The outfit was basic, but the gesture was appreciated. Such a kind and selfless act made Gohan smile. "Take these. Get dressed, and we'll go. I have permission, as long as we're back before 9 p.m., we're good."
Today was turning out to be an excellent day. He could finally change into a decent outfit. He didn't know why Shouta was doing this, but it was certainly something Goku's son would not forget anytime soon.
Gohan took the clothes and headed to the bathroom. The shirt was simple, a short-sleeve black one. The pants were sky blue, made of a strange texture he later learned was jeans. The shoes were white and red sneakers with simple but rather elegant patterns.
Looking at himself in the mirror, he didn't think he looked too bad. The clothes were a bit loose, but that way, they didn't touch his injured shoulder, which was very pleasant. His hair had grown since his arrival here, making him look even more like his father. The same features, hair, and eyes. The sight was almost painful. Fortunately, he wasn't wearing an orange outfit…
He quickly left the bathroom, not dwelling on his reflection any longer. Eraserhead seemed to have dressed for the occasion too, always in black, but without his white bandages around his neck. A civilian outfit, then. Gohan had questions about the costumes, but he kept them to himself for now, not wanting to bother the man.
They found the exit of the hospital quickly, but Gohan detailed the path and every detail, getting a clear overview of the building. It was always good to know. Aizawa kept an eye on him, which he quickly realized, but it was a kind gaze. The man's energy was friendly, though he could detect a certain pressure. He couldn't put his finger on it.
No matter, not seeing the same white walls was a real blessing in his eyes. As they passed through the sliding door, leading to a small park and then to the hospital exit, Gohan decided to break the comfortable yet silent atmosphere.
"So, where are we going?"
Shouta turned to him and pulled out keys from his pocket. "We're going to take a drive around the city, then we'll grab a bite at a restaurant. It will give you a break from here and let you see the city."
Wonderful, fantastic! Gohan thought joyfully, staying close to the man, admiring the parking lot and the cars. It was odd, the cars had wheels, which meant they didn't float...
Finally, they reached a black car, evidently the hero's favorite color, and Aizawa gestured for him to get in. Gohan quickly got into the car, controlling his strength to not rip off the handle, which required considerable effort. A memory surfaced, of his father and mother sitting in the front seat of the family car, shortly before the Cell Games. As comforting as it was, he pushed the memory away, not wanting his kind, he hoped, friend to notice.
They drove for several dozen minutes, discussing the city and its infrastructure. Gohan found the city of Kyoto magnificent, although very different from a megalopolis of his world, he recognized some common patterns. This city resembled the West Capital, which he had visited a couple of times in the past with his father.
Huge buildings were clustered in certain districts, "commercial," Aizawa quickly responded when he asked. The roads were wide, and hundreds of people were using them, seemingly rushing to get home. Their bustle contrasted with the apparent tranquility of the city.
After a quick visit to a historical district from the car, they stopped on the outskirts of the city. Aizawa parked his car and pointed to a restaurant in front of them. "It's an all-you-can-eat buffet. My treat," he said simply, smiling slightly. Detecting no deceit, Gohan jumped at the chance to stuff himself, though he showed some decency at the doorstep.
"Are you sure? I mean… I eat a lot," he admitted, scratching the back of his head, remembering remarks from the nursing staff. He had explained, a bit awkwardly, that he needed a lot of food.
The adult raised an eyebrow, clearly unconcerned. He had no idea how big his surprise was going to be... "Yes, order whatever you want."
He wasn't a very popular hero, so his salary wasn't as immense as the star heroes, but it was enough to live comfortably, especially since he had worked a lot this month to clear his mind. He wasn't worried about his wallet.
The beaming smile the young man gave him brightened him up, making him a little happy to see him smile. He had only seen sadness, regret, and a bit of anger, during their first interview. He was glad to see him pleased at the prospect of a good meal. Pushing open the front door, he found himself smiling a bit more than usual.
"Awesome!" Gohan almost shouted with joy, following him into the restaurant. They sat a little away from the other customers, which was a good thing, as Gohan wasn't too fond of crowds at the moment, and... it was Aizawa's everyday life.
They casually discussed topics mundane for one, but incredible and refreshing for the other. During those few minutes before eating, Shouta noticed that the boy seemed happy, a more childish smile etching his overly mature features. The boy talked and exclaimed about every building, wondering about each car brand he had seen in the parking lot. The reserve he had at the beginning of the outing seemed to be fading, and Shouta took it as a good sign.
It was clear the boy needed to see something other than the hospital; it was as if everything he saw was new, surprising, and original. He even marveled at the appearance of some clients, wondering why they were oddly tall or muscular (more than he thought possible).
"Let's go get some food," he said with feigned weariness, not wanting to show that he found the enthusiasm pleasant.
They headed towards the buffet, and to everyone's amazement, Gohan grabbed seven plates and filled them entirely with everything he could find. In just twenty seconds, he made his selections and brought everything back to the table at the other end of the restaurant. Shouta was shocked both by the amount of food he would have to pay for later and, more importantly, by the young man's speed of movement.
The worst part was seeing him seemingly restrain himself from going too fast. Without delay, Aizawa took his portion and returned to the table, not showing his surprise. What he saw made his eyes widen – he had never seen a human eat so much in such a short time!
Gohan, with admirable dexterity, was stuffing everything he could into his mouth, mastering the chopsticks effortlessly. Shouta sat down, and only thanks to years of training, managed to keep his composure. He acted as if nothing was amiss, not wanting to hurt the young man, and ate his portion.
Other customers stared, mouths agape, at the incredible (and loud) spectacle, which Shouta tried his best to ignore. Gohan, for his part, was having a great time, savoring everything he could. The hospital food wasn't something he considered enjoyable, just adequate at best. These dishes were good, new, and delicious, though nothing could match his mother's recipes and his father's barbecues.
After two minutes of feasting, during which flavors mingled on his palate, he stacked the seventh and final plate on an impressive pile, to the amazement of the onlookers. The boy patted his stomach contentedly, then looked at Aizawa with a smile that lit up the room. "Thank you!"
The pro hero had watched the scene, not daring to touch his plate. In his twenty-five years, and even seven years as a professional, he had never been accustomed to such a sight. He returned a thin smile to Gohan's expression, clutching his wallet with sadness. It might be an all-you-can-eat buffet, but there was still an extra charge if a certain quantity was exceeded. It was clearly the case here.
"You're welcome..." he muttered before starting on his meal, much more calmly than Gohan.
The boy jumped up, surprising the pro, and headed towards the buffet again, a smile etched on his features. Before Aizawa could react, his guest was already stacking up what he hadn't been able to enjoy on his previous trip. The crowd burst into laughter, unable to contain themselves. The scene was indeed quite funny, but not for the hero's wallet.
Before Aizawa could finish his modest plate, Gohan came back with ten more, smiling so broadly that Shouta couldn't bring himself to reprimand him.
"Wow, I can't wait to try what's left after these!" Gohan joked joyfully before devouring everything. It was a true culinary massacre, and although the boy behaved very well in society, when it came to eating, he was a different person. Remarkably, he didn't get a single stain throughout the meal.
As Shouta served himself a second plate, he noticed Gohan accidentally dropped a meatball, and before it could fall ten centimeters, the young man caught it with his chopsticks. "What reflexes!" he thought, shocked by such rapid reaction.
He didn't know the true level of the young man's skills, but it was clear he had undergone intensive training, as he had suspected. Gohan kept nothing out of his sight, always ready to react and take matters into his own hands. Especially with his food – not a single crumb was to be wasted...
After twenty minutes, thirty plates, ten bowls, and four ice creams later, Aizawa found himself paying 11,000 yen! Although financially dented but with a happy guest, they left the restaurant in silence. Gohan seemed not to have gained a gram but was clearly sated.
"Thank you very much for the meal, Mr. Eraserhead," Gohan politely thanked, before getting back into the car, settling down calmly in the passenger seat.
Aizawa realized the kid was calling him by his hero name. "Call me Aizawa, no need to be so formal."
The young man smiled and nodded joyfully, the mere sight of a smile on the young man's lips was enough to satisfy Shouta. His primary goal was achieved.
The return journey was made in a restful calm, and they reached the hospital around 8 p.m., so they still had a good hour before they had to be back inside. "Do you want to walk around the park before going back in?"
"Yeah!"
Their interactions were brief but clear. The boy didn't talk much since the meal, clearly digesting according to Aizawa, but perhaps it was the sight of the hospital that suddenly made him so calm. He had been much more energetic and happy during their car ride and, needless to say, at the restaurant.
They walked in the small park reserved for patients and visitors, the boy observing every little variety of plant as if he had never seen them before, even the most common ones, which left Aizawa thoughtful. The boy knew nothing about the country, neither the cities, plants, nor culture, but he spoke the language perfectly.
He wouldn't say anything for now, content with the silence, although he had to admit that his young friend's enthusiasm reminded him of his best friend, Hizashi Yamada, alias Present Mic. Only during this brief moment, he found the same zest, the same natural smile as his friend.
Despite everything the boy had gone through, Shouta was convinced that there was a way to help him achieve a bright future. He just wanted to know the boy a little better, and he believed it was his duty, as a hero and as a person, to look after him, since he was the one who brought him to the hospital in the first place.
"Which one is this? And that one?" Gohan wondered, looking at the plants attentively, hoping to get answers from the hero.
"I don't know," Aizawa replied wearily for the umpteenth time, his eyes falling limply on the plant in question. It was a purple flower; he didn't know the name, but he couldn't help but find it rather beautiful, though he kept that to himself.
Half an hour passed like this, and Aizawa, though grumpy, had to admit he found Gohan endearing, both for his past and his behavior. At the beginning of the outing, he was closed and silent, then as they encountered elements of the outside world, he gradually became more energetic and smiling. It was, according to Aizawa, a much more pleasant sight than his sad eyes.
Finally, it was time that ended their moment. It was 8:45 p.m., and the young man needed to be in his room in fifteen minutes. "It's time to go."
Gohan bit his lip, unhappy, not wanting to return. He didn't struggle in any way, too civilized for that, but also because it wouldn't do any good to embarrass the man who had taken time for him, disinterestedly. Aizawa noticed behind the external facade that the young man did not want to return to his room.
This was even more evident when they reached the door. Gohan looked at the handle sadly, knowing inwardly that if he wished to escape, he easily could, but to what end? Where would he go? He had no clues on how to return home. All he had figured out was that he was definitely not on his planet; he couldn't deny the truth, even if he tried very hard.
"Hey, Mr. Aizawa?" he said softly, gripping the handle, his raven-black eyes fixing on the adult with a hint of hidden sadness.
"What is it?"
"Can we... go out like this again sometime?" he asked kindly, his hand trembling.
Aizawa looked at the young man in front of him, his expression calm and thoughtful. Yes, definitely, he wanted to see the boy again. He hadn't made up his mind yet, but he wouldn't abandon a child who asked him tremblingly if they were going to meet again. He wouldn't abandon a boy so alone, not knowing his story.
He sighed and gently placed his right hand on the boy's uninjured shoulder, allowing himself a smile that was meant to be reassuring, to the best of his modest ability.
"Yeah, that works for me," he declared softly, eliciting a genuine smile from the boy, who, once his fears were dispelled, didn't feel so alone anymore. Of course, he still felt lonely, but the mere fact that Aizawa cared for him brought him unfeigned joy. Finally, he wouldn't spend all his days staring at the wall, rehashing his painful memories, unable to change them. Maybe with Aizawa, he could understand a little better why he was here?
Gohan nodded vigorously, then opened the door. "Goodbye, Mr. Aizawa."
"Goodbye, Gohan," he said quickly before leaving the place.
Seeing that the man had left, Goku's son opened the door, the place of his healing suddenly less intimidating and frightening. He went into the bathroom to splash some water on his face, and in the mirror, he saw himself smiling, his reflection similar to his father's.
The boy stopped smiling, turned away from the mirror, and looked at the ceiling. "Can you see me, Dad?"
After a minute of trying to hold back his tears, he returned to his bed, but finding no desire to settle in it, he opened the window and observed the city with newfound attention and knowledge. The slightest of smiles crept back on his face as the night lights illuminated the nocturnal landscape.
Finally, Gohan slept a dreamless sleep, free from nightmares, eager to see what tomorrow would bring.
Exiting the hospital.
The parking lot was deserted as Shouta walked calmly toward his black car. The hero took out his phone from his pocket and looked at it for a few seconds, hesitating. After a weary sigh, he turned on the device and went to his contacts. He made a call to one of the only people he could ask for help.
There were two rings before it was answered. "Shouta, man, how's it going?"
"Hello Hizashi, are you free tonight?"
The voice at the other end of the line took a few seconds to respond, bubbling with excitement. "Finally! You agree to go for a beer! I thought you'd never come out!"
"Very funny. I'll meet you at the bar you talk about so much at 10 p.m." He said quickly before ending the call.
Quickly, he got into his car, thoughtful. He needed advice, which was rare. Hizashi was the one who usually talked and sometimes confided, but tonight would be different. Shouta inserted the key and heard the engine purr. These last few days had been exhausting, but tonight he would finally get answers to all his questions.
Hizashi might be the loudest and most cheerful man he knew, but he always cared for his hidden, cold heart. After all they had been through, they trusted each other like brothers.
The drive to the bar took some time, as Gohan's hospital was quite far from the city center. Parking with difficulty about a hundred meters from the bar, Shouta mulled over his thoughts, uncertain about what to do. He had never thought he'd one day have such questions with himself, but the unusual had become daily life since he became a hero.
Pushing open the doors of the bar, he entered the building. It was a Cuban-style bar, with a rather warm and cheerful atmosphere, pulling Aizawa out of his thoughts. Scanning the area with his eyes, he finally spotted his old friend, sitting a bit apart. He knew he didn't like being too close to others if possible, especially since he wanted to talk...
Aizawa sat down across from Yamada, who was nodding his head in time with the music but stopped as soon as he saw his friend. He then showed his concern in his own way, by hugging him and shaking him with more strength than he seemed to have.
"I see you've already ordered my drink," he said, pointing to the glass in front of him. It looked like whiskey, but it had been a long time since he had drunk. Not since that event when they were still students at UA.
"Of course!" exclaimed Hizashi, appearing joyful, but with a hint of concern in his eyes hidden behind his pair of sunglasses. "So, what's new? Is it about your application to UA?"
Aizawa took his glass and brought it to his lips. "No, it was accepted. Like yours, I believe," he said before taking a small sip, savoring the drink.
This response caught Yamada off guard, although he did not show it. He grabbed his friend by the shoulders again. "Great! Best friends for life, I told you! Nezu would take us both!"
Indeed, it was Hizashi who had pushed him to apply. But that wasn't why he was in this bar. "Yeah. Do you remember the investigation I told you about? The one with the injured child on the streets."
Present Mic grabbed his glass and drank it in one gulp, then nodded. "Yep, what about it?"
"I need advice," Aizawa simply replied, taking another sip, setting his glass on the table with an unusual silence.
It was the first time since the end of their schooling at UA that Shouta had asked him for advice, which was incredible but very worrying. His 'Aizawa my buddy' sense alarmed him even more than before. He felt like making a joke about it, but he caught the extremely serious look of his friend. He nodded his head, signaling to continue.
"It's about this kid, Gohan. He told me his story. It's not pretty," he began, finishing his drink. There was a brief silence. "He's an orphan, so he'll go to the orphanage if no one decides to take care of him."
Yamada raised an eyebrow; this story was affecting his friend more than usual. It was uncommon for an emotion to touch him since what had happened all those years ago. He had so much trouble opening his heart, too afraid of getting hurt again.
"I... think I've gotten attached to him since I heard his story. Today, he went out of the hospital for the first time, I showed him the city, then we went to a restaurant."
"The all-you-can-eat one?"
"Yes. He ate more than thirty plates, and I don't know how many bowls of noodles. It was quite surprising. It was the first time I saw him smile, you know."
Yamada was even more surprised when he saw his best friend smile in return, a real smile, not his usual grimace. "If I didn't know you better, I'd say you really like this kid."
Aizawa remained silent for a good ten seconds, then nodded faintly. He had only seen the child twice, yet he found him strangely endearing. He had spent a very good afternoon with him, and this question kept coming back to him.
"As I told you, in two weeks, he'll be healed and will go to the orphanage."
Hizashi felt strange, as if Shouta was beating around the bush, seeming to have trouble getting to the heart of the matter. He quickly noticed a flicker of fear in his eyes. "And?"
His friend seemed very uncomfortable and uncertain. Normally, nothing affected him...
"I wonder if I shouldn't take care of him."
"LIKE ADOPTING HIM?" Hizashi exclaimed loudly, attracting the attention of the people around them. His sunglasses fell off his nose as he stupidly stared at his friend, mouth agape. It was so out of character!
Aizawa sighed and signaled the waiter, ordering two strong alcoholic drinks. Then he turned back to his best friend, still in the same position for about thirty seconds. He seemed paralyzed with shock.
"Yes. But I'm not sure."
"Man…" said Yamada quite calmly, still staring at his friend, incredulous. "I want to meet this kid."
It was going to be a long conversation...
As the two men engaged in their tumultuous discussion, their drinks arrived. What they didn't realize was that neither of them would be able to get out of bed the next morning, so much alcohol had flowed.
To be continued!
A/N : Good morning/Good evening! I'm glad to see that you like the story and I hope you enjoyed this little chapter. The next chapter will be released around the 9th or 10th of February. If you have anything to say in the comments, please don't hesitate, it would make me very happy. Otherwise, I wish you a good day and see you next week!
