Chapter 114 - Minute Of Life

"Mother?!" Gohan found it hard to take in. Kneeling at his bedside, looking slightly older than he remembered her - in addition to another quality he couldn't place at all - was his mother. She was holding a damp towel in her hand, clearly just removed from his face. Her eyes, as prematurely lined as her face, bored into his, and Gohan realised what was missing about this woman who so resembled his mother. There was no light in her eyes, and she seemed to be looking past him as much as at him. "Gohan! It's...really you!" Chi-Chi flung her arms around Gohan's neck, immediately beginning to cry uncontrollably.

Awkwardly, Gohan placed his arms - on which he noticed were bare, and bandaged aplenty - on his mother's back, patting her awkwardly. "I..." Words failed Gohan. He knew this woman was his mother, but also that she wasn't his mother. This was the mother of the Gohan he just met, a woman who hadn't seen her son in many, many years. "It's me, Mother," said Gohan lamely. He knew he couldn't make her think he was the Gohan of this timeline - cruel mercy would hurt only that much more then the illusion was shattered - so he continued, "...but it isn't me."

Chi-Chi broke away slowly, taking her seat back across the bed and cry8ing her eyes. Gohan waited in silence for his mother to finish - what could he even say here that wouldn't make the encounter worse? Truthfully, he'd hoped to avoid meeting any old family or friends in the future, but Gohan had been so determined to avoid Chi-Chi that it hadn't ever crossed his mind this could happen.

What am I supposed to say? I didn't want yo give her this sort of false hope... The Saiyan-half waited in silence, Chi-Chi's shoulders gradually steadying, and her hiccuping slowing until they only audible due to his Saiyan hearing.

"...what do you mean?" Chi-Chi asked at least. "You aren't you? You're my son, I know his voice, I know how he looks. You're my Gohan!"

"Mother, I'm not," said Gohan earnestly. He placed both hands on her shoulders, holding back all of his strength- a feat made much easier due to his weakened state - and staring directly into Chi-Chi's eyes. "I am Gohan, but I'm not from this timeline. Don't you know what Bulma's accomplished?"

"I...no," Chi-Chi replied shamefully. "The last time I spoke with Bulma...she'd told me what happened. I haven't spoken with anyone in the capital in years. How was I supposed to handle it! I lost not only my Gokū, but you too!" Tears began to well up in her eyes again. "But you're back! Bulma was wrong, right?!"

Gohan heaved a heavy sigh. He'd already explained all of this to himself of all people, and it felt very strange having to do it again to his own mother. Prefacing an even longer explanation with a long exhale, Gohan started with the Time Machine. He went theough all of it with Chi-Chi, from Trunks' arrival in the future, to his father's death on the past, up to this moment which had brought him here.

"...in short, Mother, I'm from the past," said Gohan delicately. "By a measure of twenty or so years. You're my mother, but... I'm not the Gohan you knew."

Chi-Chi sat in stunned silence. Whether Gohan's words made any sense wasn't relevant to the matter at hand. All of this had happened, and in another timeline no less. "There's...no saving my Gokū then, was there? Bulma went through all of that and he still died, even in another timeline." Her eyes, so empty, stared off into blank space.

Gohan didn't know what to say. Perhaps because Chi-Chi seemed to have nothing left to give, but she wasn't crying anymore. She simply sat there, blankly. Gohan, placing a hand on his ribs, checked to see if he could move. When he realised he could, even it it ached, the Saiyan-half stood up. "Let's make you something to eat, Mother."

"What?"

Western Forest, Earth

"Why are we taking our time this way?"

At the edge of a forest, located close to the Western Capital, a wooden cabin, consisting of two floors, had been erected. Sitting at a white table, drinking casually from a cup of tea, was Gokū Black. He drank deeply, waiting to answer the question from his counterpart. Gohan Black rested on the railing, his face worked in discontent.

"Even if we don't pursue the Saiyans, Earthlings still live," he said. "We should finish them off now."

Gokū Black indulged in another swig, before finally looking back at his counterpart. He balanced lightly, leaning the chair back. "These Saiyans respond best when fighting to protect something. We will kill Trunks, but not before we have perfected these bodies." Black stood up, clenching both fists. A shout gave rise to a powerful surge of golden ki. "There's more to Saiyan power than Super Saiyan. Son Gohan is hiding it - as was Gokū."

Gohan Black frowned. "If we had gone with my own suggestion, we wouldn't need to play this long game."

Gokū Black grinned. "Patience. No flower ever blossomed without slow, methodical care. Trunks will pay for his sins, with humanity's blood paying his dues. And we will emerge as the strongest entities in creation. Believe in me."

Gohan Black nodded, and walked over to take a seat in front of Gokū Black. "Please, pour me a cup."

The teapot was lifted from the table, and tipped over into the nearby teacup. A rush of streaming liquid filled the container.

"The eve of victory makes it all the sweeter," Gokū Black said, raising a cup to his cohort.

A delicious smell filled the kitchen of the East Mountain District 439. Gohan was busying himself over the stove, a skillet with a healthy portion of egg bubbling atop the range. In one hand, he held the pan handle, in another, a large set of cooking chopsticks. Chi-Chi watched in some amazement as Gohan hefted fried rice - which he had finished preparing earlier - from a mould into the pan, before folding the egg over the rice and ladling it into a plate.

He repeated the process once more, before setting the table with two steaming plates of omurice, and sliding into one of the seats at the familiar kitchen table. Chi-Chi kept staring, before she finally spoke.

"Sweetie, when did you learn to cook?"

Gohan grinned sheepishly. "I picked up a thing or two. I'm usually the one who prepares dinner when I get home - Erasa generally is going over lesson plans for the dōjō by the time I arrive back from the college. I got pretty good at it by the time our daughter was born."

Chi-Chi picked up her chopsticks, gently cutting into the egg roll and scooping the portion into her mouth. To her surprise, it tasted delicious - much like her own cooking, in fact. At this thought, her eyes began to leak tears yet again, and her shoulders shook.

"M-Mother, what's wrong? Is it not to your taste?!" Gohan asked in a panic.

"No, its delicious," replied Chi-Chi slowly, wip9ng her eyes with the hem of her sleeve. "Its just...this kitchen hasn't been used for a home cooked meal in a long time, Gohan." She heaved a sigh. "I must look a mess...I can't even eat with my own son without breaking down."

"You don't need to apolgise," replied Gohan. "You've been through a lot here. I can't even imagine... though Trunks has told me something about it." Gohan frowned. Part of him almost felt guilty, for a multitude of reasons. Here he was, sitting at a table down to a late breakfast, entertaining an illusion he'd have to shatter...meanwhile, Black still lived, and Bulma was dead. His frown set deeper, yet as he looked towards Chi-Chi, his mood softened.

"Sweetie, you're looking serious..." Chi-Chi looked at him quizzically. "Should I—"

"Don't worry about it," replied Gohan, forcing a smile. "Come on Mother, the food is getting cold. We can chat as we eat."

"Then why don't you tell me about your family?" asked Chi-Chi, slowly picking up another portion and smiling weakly. "I have a granddaughter?"

Smiling genuinely this time, Gohan launched into a story. A tale all about the blonde girl he'd met when he was nine, how they'd met again years later, and every adventure and moment that had come thereafter. It felt like enough to keep them there for several years, but it might at least keep them occupied through the meal.

Northern Mountains, Earth

Where am I?

The thought surged through Trunks' mind, the lavender-haired young man sitting bolt upright. His head worked furiously, trying to piece everything together. Black had defeated him soundly, and everything had gone dark. He didn't remember a thing after that. Glancing around, Trunks could not recognise where he was. It was dark, rough, and hewn from rock. Yet his Saiyan sense of smell picked up the smell of something...metallic, in addition to traces of crude oil.

"ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʙᴇ ꜱᴏ Qᴜɪᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴏᴠᴇ."

A voice, slow, mechanical, and familiar, sounded from Trunks' left. The young Saiyan peered through the darkness, and his eyes, with seconds of focusing, properly adjusted. What came into focus was an individual he last remembered blown to pieces. Worse than dead for an artificial individual. A tall, muscled individual, dressed in green and black, with piercing blue eyes, and a reddish mohawk.

"I know you...!" Trunks gasped. "You're another Android!"

"ᴀꜰꜰɪʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ. ɪ ᴀᴍ ᴀɴᴅʀᴏɪᴅ 16."

A/N:
Hello, hello! As always, thank you all for your patience while I put out other chapters and just deal with work and the like. This was an interesting chapter to write, as it was a very slow paced, very casual one, which isn't something you get to see a lot of in a Dragon Ball story, but it was very refreshing. I think, in my opinion, the biggest crime of the Black arc in the anime and manga - well the manga one was horrid but we'll deal with that later - was not using the other future characters more. Gokū was in the future, but didn't meet up with his wife, his teacher, or anyone, which honestly kind of bothered me. I had a chance to take it here, and I took it; I very much enjoyed writing this section with future Chi-Chi, but I think the most unexpected will be future 16. My co-author for Heart and Sky Maiden appears to be busy again, so I may be taking on the next chapters on my own. While I work on those, I hope to see you all again soon, in the next exciting chapter of the Erased Chronicles.