Reviews :
Some1call4MR-E : I understand your perspective; it's true that it can be frustrating to see the same story beginning over and over again. However, for my fic, it's a story that's now over four years old and, you might be surprised to find, was among the first to use this type of introduction. The fact that Gohan and Cell end up in a draw has a crucial importance in the narrative, which you will surely notice in the coming weeks. Regarding his place in the class, no, I will not remove any characters; he will just be an addition.
crazzybeebee: Thanks ! I'm happy to see that you like the translation.
Bosh Joeman : Hello and thanks for your support, i hope you will like the translation.
Maximum Rhapsody : Hi ! The story will stay the same, nothing will change, or really a little bit to improve the quality of translation.
Chapter 4 : On the road !
Hospital. 2 PM, a few days after the amusement park outing...
Within the sterile confines of his hospital room, Gohan was a whirlwind of motion, pushing his physical limits with a series of exercises designed to reclaim his strength. Time was ticking away; Aizawa's arrival was imminent, signaling the moment Gohan could finally break free from these white-washed walls. The tranquil meditations under Piccolo's tutelage no longer sufficed to drain his overflowing energy reservoir. Movement was imperative.
His wounds were nearly relics of the past, all but his shoulder knitting back together under the diligent care of his Saiyan genetics, tirelessly working to mend the final vestiges of damage. Completing his 3,000th push-up, Gohan collapsed to the ground, a light sheen of sweat adorning his brow. He cast a disgruntled glance at the clock – another thirty minutes in this purgatory of waiting.
Today marked a turning point; Aizawa and Yamada were setting off for Tokyo to commence their roles as educators at UA. From whispers and fragments gathered from doctors, the television, and the heroes themselves, Gohan understood UA to be a bastion of hero training, a prestigious academy molding the defenders of tomorrow.
The notion of heroism ignited a fire within him, a yearning to join the ranks of those who stood on the front lines. His life had been steeped in battle, his hands already stained with the weight of countless lives saved. He felt ready to embrace this path, yet this world demanded a formal education in heroics, a rule he was prepared to follow.
Yet, this resolve was shadowed by a growing acceptance of his prolonged stay in this foreign land. Days turned into weeks with no clue as to his arrival in this world. Aizawa and his fiery companion were just as clueless, and the medical staff, the internet, and the media offered no insights.
His investigation was at a standstill, leaving him to ponder his next move amidst uncertainty. His efforts to meditate on a solution proved fruitless. Now, facing relocation to Tokyo, Gohan resolved to keep a vigilant eye for any sign that might illuminate his path, though paranoia was not an option – a lesson drilled into him by Piccolo.
With a groan, Gohan launched into another set of crunches, determined to exhaust every possibility. Today's move to Tokyo might open new doors, offering fresh opportunities to seek answers. His mentor's wisdom echoed in his mind, guiding him through this tumult of thoughts.
Exhausted yet invigorated, Gohan lay sprawled on the floor, catching his breath. His body yearned for the rigor of training, now fully recovered and stronger than ever, a testament to the legendary Saiyan resilience – the Zenkai boost that flourished in the face of near-death experiences.
After twenty minutes, he decided to work on controlling his tail. It was challenging; the appendage didn't always obey his commands, acting more on instinct and reflex than on his deliberate instructions. He hoped this unpredictability wouldn't jeopardize him in future battles.
Gohan wasn't naive; he knew a day would come when he'd have to fight again, the tranquility of peace a fragile veneer that could shatter at any moment, leaving people in desperate need of his strength. He couldn't afford to grow complacent. While he was aware of his superior strength compared to most, evil knew no bounds or limitations.
Had Cell truly been vanquished and Gohan remained in his own world, surrounded by friends, maybe he could have savored peace. Yet, in this society, he felt an obligation to be prepared, thus opting for a light training regimen he planned to intensify later.
Training wasn't something he detested; in fact, he quite enjoyed it. What he truly loathed was the aftermath—every session inevitably leading to a confrontation that would determine the fate of his family and the universe.
But this world wasn't his, possibly not even his galaxy. He harbored hope that certain universal laws wouldn't apply and that his worries were unfounded.
His tail lashed out fiercely, slicing through the air with energy. He chuckled momentarily before the weight of his thoughts dampened his spirits. The pressure was unbearable, a feeling he never managed well. Goku always advised tackling things one at a time, assuring that everything would work out if he lived in the moment and maintained a smile. It was an overwhelmingly positive outlook, one that made it impossible to dwell on sadness or darkness on this particular day.
Today marked his departure from the accursed hospital, a genuinely positive development. He harbored a deep-seated loathing for the place, too many suppressed fears and bad memories. Since Aizawa's offer to accompany him, he managed to bear his stay, but the detachment wasn't complete. He understood why his father also despised hospitals; Goku's aversion to needles and inactivity made such places akin to the antechamber of hell.
Shota was a good man, and Gohan was relieved to be leaving with him. He held the utmost trust in this hero alone. While he appreciated and respected other heroes, the issue was his lack of familiarity with them and the fear that a villain could defeat them. Eraserhead, however, was a man he believed in.
Five minutes later, the door swung open, snapping Gohan back to reality. It was the renowned hero, their eyes meeting.
"Ready to leave?"
"Yes."
Aizawa scanned the room. "Got all your stuff?"
Gohan glanced at his modest bag, cradling just a spare set of clothes and an All Might figurine—a prize from a game he'd conquered days earlier. "I believe that's everything. Let's depart."
The man nodded, ushering him through the door towards liberation. They treaded through the corridors in a silence that wasn't just bearable but comforting, eventually passing the hospital's garden.
"This is the only place in the hospital that feels right," Gohan confessed, his voice a whisper, as he cast one final longing look at the flowers, enchanted by their subtle fragrance.
The hero nodded, allowing him a moment to linger. "I'm sure you're eager to leave, so let's go. Hizashi is waiting for us in Tokyo."
"Oh, that's great. Will I be seeing him often?" Gohan inquired, his tone carrying a hint of excitement. The radio show host's vibrant personality was like a breath of fresh air to him.
Reaching the car, Aizawa finally responded, "Yes, he'll be spending a few days with us. His apartment won't have running water for a week."
Content with the answer, Gohan buckled his seatbelt—not out of necessity, but to silence the incessant beeping that grated on his nerves. He wasn't fond of the constraint it imposed on his movements, but he shrugged it off, bracing himself for the long journey ahead.
Shota dialed the music to a soothing mix of jazz and classical, though, curiously, a few rock'n'roll tracks found their way into his playlist. His musical tastes seemed to mirror his personality, offering Gohan an auditory pleasure. With his Saiyan hearing far surpassing that of an average human, he easily picked up on the subtlest nuances in the music.
The first hour of the journey unfolded as a serene musical odyssey, with Gohan soaking in the swiftly changing scenery, the world outside moving as if in slow motion. He peppered his "legal guardian" with questions, quenching his thirst for knowledge as best as the man could.
After drinking in enough of the landscape, Gohan initiated an engaging conversation about Tokyo. "What's the city like?"
Aizawa shrugged, searching for the right words. "Bigger than Kyoto, but with more crime."
That remark alone was enough to make Son's son wince. It didn't sound like good news at all. The mere thought of people suffering without his ability to intervene troubled him deeply. He wanted to help. And he wanted to do it as soon as possible.
Noticing the gleam of curiosity in the boy's eyes, he sighed before speaking in a softer, more reassuring tone. "Don't worry, everything will be fine. There are many professional heroes patrolling the area."
This sparked several questions in Gohan, who looked at him curiously. "Will you be working as a hero too?" He knew the man was to be a teacher, but wondered if he could continue his hero work as well…
Turning the wheel to overtake a sluggish driver, he took a few seconds before responding. "Much less than before, I'll be working at UA," and taking care of you, he added silently in his thoughts. Educating the boy would require considerable time and effort, but he had already committed to it. Thus, he wouldn't have as much time for his hero work, but he didn't want the young one to feel any guilt.
Son understood and gazed eagerly into the distance. "I'm looking forward to seeing the city and exploring the country."
Again, it was a notable trait of the boy's personality, a desire to travel and meet new people; he couldn't stay still. Staying in the hospital for so long must have been a test of his patience. Perhaps during future vacations, they could travel around the country. He would never have done it alone because it didn't interest him, but if it could make the kid happy, then why not. With his new salary, it wouldn't be a problem.
"We still have two hours of driving left," he informed, focusing more on the road ahead.
Gohan sighed and settled deeper into his seat, careful not to damage it, then let sleep take him. Shota glanced at him for a moment, and a smile crept onto his features; he was pleased with how things were going so far.
He had grown quite fond of the boy and could, albeit not fully, understand his pain. The young one's courage was quite extraordinary; he had already fought villains, multiple times he suspected, and yet he smiled and got excited about every little thing he saw. His gentleness and joviality contrasted with his past, but it was reassuring, a sign that things could get better.
He wasn't blind to the traumas present in the child either. During their few outings, he had spotted some, ranging from simple nervous tics to a methodical scrutiny of every unfamiliar place, as if expecting a threat around every corner. The boy didn't trust heroes to ensure his safety; he had said, and it seemed sincere, that he found Aizawa admirable, but his actions showed he was always ready to ensure his own safety at any moment.
This was less reassuring, but with time, perhaps it would diminish a bit more. It wasn't so bad for him to be prepared and confident towards any threats that might cross his path, but he would make it clear, when the time came, that he must fully trust the professionals to maintain society's proper functioning. So that he could finally enjoy a proper childhood, a childhood he was determined to provide.
Fatherhood was an uncharted territory for him; he had seldom interacted with children his age. Moreover, at twenty-five, he had never been in a stable enough relationship to contemplate having children. This was a first, yet he genuinely hoped to be a good father and provide the happiness this child deserved.
He knew the boy had once been part of a happy family, and wouldn't regard him as his biological father. He merely aspired to be a viable paternal figure. Regardless, he was determined to fulfill this role to the best of his ability.
Shota Aizawa was a man of laid-back demeanor, but once he made a decision, he committed fully with unwavering resolve. He was certain he would support Gohan.
The sight of Tokyo interrupted his thoughts; entering the city, he took out his phone to follow the GPS directions. They would reside in a well-regarded neighborhood, a mere fifteen-minute walk from his workplace. Had he been living alone, he might have opted for a much smaller house, but that was no longer the case.
He let the boy sleep and drove peacefully, occasionally observing the youngster's voluminous hair sway with the journey. He pondered how his hair managed to maintain such a palm tree-like shape, contemplating a potential visit to the barber.
More importantly, he continued towards their new home. He had visited it several times to ensure it was a decent living space and to move in some belongings. He had bought a bed for Gohan but would leave the room's decoration to him later.
The neighborhood was quiet, typical for a weekday. He parked in the small garage next to the house, pleased to be there. The rent would cost a significant sum, but it was fair. After turning off the car, he allowed the adolescent to sleep a bit longer, noting the boy's recent lack of rest.
Opening the window, he took out a cigarette from his pack. His smoking was infrequent, and he had been cutting down for months, still allowing himself one or two a day. He wondered if he could ever quit entirely, especially since smoking in front of his future students at UA was prohibited for good reasons.
After taking a final drag, he discarded the cigarette butt and decided it was time to wake the youngster. His initial call went unanswered, so he tried again with more vigor. Still no response. Touching the boy's shoulder, Gohan finally opened his eyes, looking at him with a flash of alarm. His left hand trembled, fingers unfolding.
Surprised at first, Aizawa should have known better; the boy had immediately assessed his surroundings, ready to react in less than a second. He relaxed, but Aizawa noted that touching the young man or invading his personal space without permission could end badly. It was a heavy indication.
"We've arrived," he stated simply, stepping out of the car.
"Oh, cool," he yawned before darting out in a flash, scanning his surroundings with a strategist's eye. He visibly relaxed once done. "It's a beautiful house," he simply stated, taking a step forward.
Indeed, the Aizawa residence was of a respectable size, boasting one floor and a basement. It housed three bedrooms, one on the ground floor and two upstairs, along with two toilets and two bathrooms—a logical setup. Like any house, it featured a kitchen and living room. However, a garden of about thirty square meters lay beyond the living area, a significant reason for its price.
Shota had thought it wise to include a green space for the boy, knowing his appreciation for nature and allowing him the opportunity to cultivate some plants if he wished. As long as he managed it himself without involving Shota, there was no issue.
"I'll show you inside."
Thus, they spent the next thirty minutes exploring the edifice, eventually reaching Gohan's room. Spanning twenty square meters, its size felt even more substantial due to the lack of furniture and decor.
Son lingered in silence for a moment, it was more than he had expected. Back home, his room was easily half this size, yet, furniture and his bed consumed all the space. Here, there was plenty. Only a small built-in wardrobe and a bed occupied the room. The walls were white, and he planned to change the color as soon as possible; white reminded him too much of the hospital.
There was much work to be done to bring it to life, but it meant a lot—a place where he could rest and find comfort. He turned to Aizawa with a natural smile and nodded. "Thank you," he simply breathed as they exited the room.
Gently placing his hand on his shoulder, they continued their tour. Shota's room was… exactly like him: dark and strangely untidy. He didn't understand how it was possible, but there was already a nameless clutter scattered throughout. The walls were painted light gray, and the curtains were deep black.
A bed, a wardrobe, and a dresser were present, atop which rested an old photo featuring Aizawa, Yamada, and another young man. Gohan suppressed his curiosity and finished his survey of the premises. Opposite the bed, a small TV and a gaming console were set up on a little cabinet.
"There you go. If you ever have a problem and can't find me elsewhere, I'll be here. Well, let's go greet the neighbors before Hizashi arrives."
Neighbors… now there was a strange prospect. His family was isolated from most villages surrounding Mount Paozu, rarely making contact with others nearby. Thus, he had never had neighbors. His mother had taught him that if he ever did, he should be polite and respectful, as with any type of relationship, except with "bad boys." He was curious to meet his neighbors.
"It's six o'clock, so they should already be here. Once this chore is done, we can relax," Shota declared wearily as he opened the front door, seemingly eager to get it over with.
Son raised an eyebrow, thoughtful. Why did he consider it a 'chore'? To him, meeting new people was rather exciting, and he hoped to get along with them. It might be a social obligation, but it presented an opportunity to integrate.
Aizawa, for his part, hoped to wrap it up quickly, and if it were up to him, he wouldn't even bother in the first place, as he wouldn't often meet his neighbors. But Hizashi had pointed out that since Gohan was young, perhaps he could make friends in the neighborhood and integrate more easily.
First house, the Togatas. Shota knocked on the door, and it wasn't long before a smiling man opened it. His eyes were peculiarly round, but his smile and expression made him feel warm and welcoming.
"Hello!" he exclaimed joyously, looking at his visitors. "What can I do for you?"
"Hello," Aizawa began much more faintly. "We're your new neighbors; I just wanted to say hello." Then he extended his hand.
The man grasped it firmly and smiled at his taciturn neighbor. "Pleased to meet you! I see you have a son; mine is about the same age."
Mentioned for the first time, the boy stepped forward and bowed slightly, smiling at the man. He thought to deny the previous statement, but it was better to introduce himself first. "Hello, my name is Gohan, pleased to meet you," he introduced himself, preferring to be referred by his first name, more out of habit than anything else.
The neighbor kept his smile and turned towards the inside of his house. "Mirio, come here!"
Quickly, an energetic boy rushed to the front door, wearing an All Might T-shirt and blue shorts. He looked a lot like his father, same face but his blond hair was longer and almost fell to his shoulders. He exchanged a few words with his father and turned to the newcomers.
"Hi! My name is Mirio Togata!"
"My name is Son Gohan, but I prefer to be called Gohan."
The young man raised an eyebrow, curious. "Funny name! Pleased to meet you too, Mr. Son!"
Aizawa decided to clear up the misunderstanding as soon as possible. "My name is Aizawa; I'm his legal guardian."
"Ah, no matter!" Mirio quickly replied, turning back to Gohan. "So, who's your favorite hero?"
Pondering swiftly, he hesitated then gave an answer, still smiling. He hadn't had contact with people around his age for a long time. "I like All Might, but my favorite is Eraserhead!"
"Who?" the blonde quickly asked, familiar with All Might like everyone else, but not the latter, and he was keen to know more heroes.
Shota sighed, already weary from the journey and conversation. "Me."
Realizing the situation, he turned towards the now recognized pro hero. "Wow, you're a pro hero?!"
Then the father decided to intervene, his son could be overly enthusiastic at times, but that was why he shone like a beacon in the night, radiant. "Go on, son. Slip on some shoes and show young Gohan around the neighborhood. Do you mind?" he asked Aizawa, who, seeing the curious and joyful expression of the boy, nodded in agreement.
"Gohan, be back by eight o'clock. Mr. Togata, until next time," he said, turning towards his house, dreading the arrival of his best friend's garish yellow car. He turned once or twice to check on the youths, but they seemed to get along well, so he let them be.
Mirio took no more than a couple of minutes to come out, it was a welcome distraction for him, he was quite bored during the summer holidays. Amakiji was vacationing further north of the country, and none of his middle school friends were available, so he spent his time training on his own.
"So, there's a park that way!" he began, heading up the street. "If you turn left, there's a bakery and a restaurant. If you turn right, there's a library and an adjacent bookstore."
Gohan followed his new friend, observing the surroundings with a small smile, finding the neighborhood quite nice. He would explore it in more detail later; he first wanted to get to know the blonde.
"It's nice here. So you like heroes?" Gohan asked, totally unprepared for what was to come.
Mirio jumped to his feet and gave him a look filled with determination. "Of course! I'll be one later, and I'll save as many people as I can, like All Might!" he exclaimed, a huge smile on his face.
Gohan stared at him, momentarily stunned by the sudden burst, the will to succeed shining like the sun, sending pleasant sensations. The solemnity in his gaze gave young Son a shiver; he had someone in front of him who truly wanted to become an altruistic hero. His own smile widened, always very happy to meet people who cared about the welfare of the innocent.
"That's awesome! I also want to be a hero to help people!"
Togata laughed as they continued walking. "We're going to be good friends!"
Indeed, that was what would happen, due to their similar characters and motivations, the two were bound to get along well.
After exploring the nearby streets, they stopped at the park, which was much larger and more diverse than the hospital's. "Wow, this one is beautiful!" He said, looking at a yellow flower he had never seen before.
"Do you like flowers?" Mirio inquired, joining him. Noticing Gohan's uncertain look at his question, he brightened. "I like them too, it always relaxes me to spend time in parks."
Gohan nodded and continued walking, observing the park's plants. This world had such a variety of flora and fauna... he encountered new flowers at every step. "Nature is beautiful," he affirmed, sitting on a wooden bench nearby, while Mirio whistled calmly.
He was very kind and communicative, and he had even spent time with him, introducing him to the surroundings, for which Gohan was grateful. His company was enjoyable, and he hoped they could become good friends, despite the blonde being slightly older.
They talked about heroes, especially All Might, and he took the opportunity to learn a lot about how they were perceived in Japan. He wondered what the rest of the world was like, but he would have time for that later. Mirio proved to be full of resources and humor during their discussion, and he seemed to mimic, quite convincingly, some poses of the Symbol of Peace.
Gohan discovered that for his new friend, All Might was more than just a hero he liked; he was his role model, a man he wanted to equal to become the greatest hero. He spoke of him with so much vigor and admiration that Gohan got caught up in the game. He only knew the hero through the media, but he hoped to meet him one day.
One thing was certain, he had marked his entire country with his strength and kindness, and just for that, he had the complete sympathy of young Son.
"Ah! It's half-past seven, we better head back!" Mirio exclaimed, jumping off the bench.
Gohan nodded seriously and followed him, not that he feared punishment if he returned late, but he did not want to annoy the man who had already done so much for him. He walked with Togata, and they continued their conversation.
"To become a hero, there's no better place than UA."
"That's the high school where Mr. Aizawa will be teaching starting this term," he informed simply, pleased to see that the hero academy was as reputed as his legal guardian had said.
Mirio seemed surprised, and not just a bit. "Really?! He must be incredible then! All the teachers at UA are well-known heroes!"
Gohan had quickly understood that Aizawa didn't like media and public attention, mainly because he needed to keep his power relatively secret so villains couldn't get the upper hand on him. Losing the element of surprise could prove quite dangerous. But he was a very competent hero, according to Mr. Yamada, and Gohan hoped to see him fight one day.
"He's very strong, I'm sure of it!"
Mirio seemed eager to continue the conversation but decided it was better to cut it short when he glanced at the time on his mobile phone. He spotted his house a little further down. Smiling, he gave his neighbor a pat on the back, who looked quite surprised by the physical contact.
"That was fun! See you soon!" He declared before heading home, waving his hand.
He's really a good guy, Gohan thought as he entered his home. He opened the front door and noticed Present Mic sitting on the couch, a beer in hand. Shota was sitting next to him configuring the living room television.
The young man removed his shoes and walked up to the living room. "Hello, Mr. Yamada."
"Yo Gohan!" He greeted before taking a sip. "So, you made a friend? Shota told me the neighbor's son showed you around."
Said Shota didn't show it, but he pricked up his ears, curious about how the boy's first solo outing had gone. Gohan sat on the dark brown couch, to the right of Present Mic, a small smile on his lips. "Yeah! Mirio is really nice. He showed me around the neighborhood, and we stopped at the park to talk a bit. He's a huge fan of All Might and wants to become a hero like him."
"That's a good goal," said Hizashi simply, finishing his drink. "I hope he makes it! But tell me, how's the neighborhood?"
He thought for a moment before answering, a gleam passing through his eyes. "There's a library and a bookstore; I can't wait to go there!"
The radio presenter put his bottle on the coffee table and glanced at the youth; indeed, he seemed to love discovering, so it made sense he liked reading. "Books? Do you have a favorite genre?"
Then they talked all evening, Aizawa prepared a substantial meal, hoping it would be enough for the Saiyan with a gargantuan appetite. It turned out to be slightly too little, but the boy said nothing about it, preferring to discuss his favorite types of books, though never mentioning any specific works. Seeing that the young one was in a good mood and enjoyed reading and studying, he decided to inform him about some things during the meal.
"Gohan, I need to talk to you about your education."
He raised an eyebrow, curious. "Yes?"
"Do you remember the test you took at the hospital?" He asked while taking a bite of his pasta.
"Ah yes, that." Son exhaled, recalling the strange test that had been given to him out of the blue to assess his knowledge. He had found it extremely easy, and had finished it very quickly, but it had nonetheless been a good distraction. They had given him more over time, increasingly challenging, but nothing he couldn't answer. But why was this subject coming up again?
"That was a test to estimate your educational level, as you had told us that you were homeschooled before. At the start of the term, you will be admitted to sixth grade, middle school. Normally, at ten years old, it's still elementary, but your skills are more than sufficient for middle school. But that's no reason not to try to improve even more, but I must admit to being impressed."
Middle school? A public school? It was a first for him, to imagine himself in contact with more people his age, but if they were all good people like Mirio, then there would be no problems. He wasn't so displeased, so he smiled. "Thank you, Mr. Aizawa, I will do my best. When does the year start?"
"It already started a quarter ago, but you will be transferred at the end of the summer vacation, in three weeks."
Gohan seemed pensive, and he continued to dig in his plate, scraping what he had left. He glanced inside the dish but found it, to his greatest regret, empty. He would have liked to eat a little more. He returned to his wooden seat and sat down, masking his hunger as best he could. He didn't want to inconvenience the two men because of his appetite.
Shouta noted to make more food, or to choose more caloric items, but he wasn't sure if his wallet could handle it much longer.
In any case, the trio enjoyed pleasant conversation, and then the dark night soon fell. It was midnight when Yamada lay down on the couch to sleep, and the two residents weren't far behind. Aizawa wished a good night and then retired to his room, already feeling tired from all the work done since the early morning.
Gohan withdrew to his room and stretched out on his bed, comfortable. It had been a good day, and he truly felt at home in this house, the people were warm, and he had had a good day. Fortunately, he would never have to return to the hospital, and just that thought comforted him.
He undressed and went to bed without delay, eager for the next day. Perhaps he could ask Mirio if he wanted to go out for a walk and talk about heroes as they did today, or maybe he would take a trip to the bookstore. What if he did both?!
His sleep was short-lived, only a couple of hours before he woke up, hunger gnawing at him. He descended the stairs and opened the fridge, finding not much to eat. There wasn't even any bread left for a meal. When it was like this, he had to go out and hunt something to satisfy his hunger.
Disheartened, he went back to his room and put on the same clothes as the day before, then he opened his window. However, before leaving, he scanned the surrounding energies. Aizawa and Yamada were sleeping deeply, so he had a clear field. It was the first time he was going out alone to explore the world a bit, but he was no longer worried at all. He had a place to return to and people who liked him.
He took off quickly, his energy surrounding him like a thin cloak, protecting him from the warm summer breeze. He flew as high as he could and contemplated the city below, the millions of lights delivering a blazing and vibrant spectacle, of a city that never found rest. He remained silent for several minutes, observing it almost with admiration, but the call of his stomach urged him to move.
He flew north for a few minutes, at a rather slow pace, and found a small forest, dozens of kilometers away from the city. He wandered around for about ten minutes, then spotted prey, a deer quenching its thirst at the watercourse, a moonbeam illuminating the animal with a soft light. He even hesitated to end its existence, but hunger was too strong.
He threw a small energy sphere at the animal and ended it in a second, it was painless. Deciding he didn't have time to cook the meat with fire, he used his energy and devoured his prey greedily in a few minutes, watching the water flow.
Fortunately, it wasn't a full moon, which he was extremely careful about, so he could enjoy the beauty of the forest a little longer. Satiated, he thought it would be a good idea to explore the country more now that such an opportunity was within reach.
He flew off towards Japan's natural beauties, which he knew thanks to the internet, and spent several tens of minutes observing them, finding great calm and great rest. The temples were magnificent, and what about Mount Fuji? He landed at the top of the mountain and could appreciate the city of Tokyo in all its splendor.
He would have liked to explore the rest of the world, but it was already late, and he didn't want Mr. Aizawa to worry about him if he woke up to find him missing. It would not be respectful to the man who was taking care of him. The sun was rising in the distance, he noticed, so he decided to return home, smiling, happy to have been able to explore the surroundings.
He landed a few hundred meters from his home, calmly surveying his surroundings, after all, he still had a bit of time left. As he turned the corner towards his home, a distant scream brought him to a sudden halt.
"NO! HELP ME!" a female voice cried out in horror, the terror palpable in that simple cry. Alarmed, the young man quickly headed towards the source of the noise, arriving in less than a second, leaving a strong gust of wind behind him. He spotted two energies in that alley, one of which radiated immense terror.
The scene that unfolded before his eyes shocked him; a woman in her twenties was being forced to the ground, a man attempting to overpower her with his physical strength. It didn't take long to understand what was about to happen, and the young man's eyes widened in disgust.
He knew he couldn't act without a license, Aizawa had made that clear one day, saying it was up to the heroes to handle. But there were no heroes here, only him, and this woman in danger. If he did nothing...
An image of his family and friends appeared in his mind, compelling him to act, reminding him of what his inaction had already cost him. He had nothing to conceal his face, no outfit, but regardless, he charged forward and pushed the man ahead, trying not to kill him outright.
He had underestimated his strength, and the man, built like a wardrobe, was hurled to the ground and skidded about fifteen meters before stopping, hitting the wall of a house. His back took the brunt of the damage, and the smell of burning filled his nostrils, making him grimace. The man groaned initially then screamed in pain, tears streaming from his eyes.
Moving as fast as lightning, Gohan rushed towards him, and before the man could even see him, he knocked him out with a quick blow to the neck. He stepped back two paces, observing his work. The criminal would survive without serious injury, and although Gohan knew he shouldn't play judge in the streets, he couldn't suppress a small smile. Seeing men like him get punished was a good thing.
He knew his father would have acted, all his friends would have acted, and even Piccolo would have ended this repugnant act, because that was what they fought for: peace and security.
The son of Goku turned towards the woman who had stopped sobbing, to say she was relieved was an understatement. She looked at him with wide eyes, and he gave her a small smile, suddenly embarrassed. He approached her, but kept a reasonable distance, not wanting to scare her.
"Are you okay?" he asked gently, offering his hand to help her stand. Anyway, she had already seen his face when he had confronted the villain; running away would have been futile.
She grabbed his hand and stood up. "Yes, thanks to you," she finally said, still in shock that a teenager had saved her. She was returning from a night out, and her apartment was only a few blocks away, until that man grabbed her and pulled her into this alley. It all lasted only about ten seconds before he was thrown to the ground like old trash.
She thought a hero would save her but a child...
Gohan released the woman's hand and approached the villain on the ground, picking him up to move him to the side of the road. He coughed, then spoke. "Could you... keep what I did a secret?"
She nodded promptly, she owed him that much. "What should I do with the villain?"
He shrugged, watching the sunrise. He needed to get back home quickly; he didn't want to have to explain his nocturnal outing to Aizawa. "I'm not really sure. Maybe you could call the police? That way, he'll be behind bars."
She agreed and took out her phone. Gohan decided it was time to leave, and without delay! He stammered a quick series of goodbyes and took off without looking back. He didn't want to attract the attention of any passersby, so he walked at a brisk pace until he reached the house.
He had left his window open, just in case something like this happened. He jumped discreetly inside and entered his room, very pleased with himself. He did not regret acting to save that woman, but he hoped no one would learn what he had done because it was technically forbidden. He wasn't at much risk, but he didn't want to disappoint and break the trust Aizawa had in him.
He had welcomed him, offered him a place to sleep, and a chance to fully understand what had happened to him. He had pulled him from his darkness and offered him a kindness he thought he'd never see again while he was still healing in the hospital. For that, he was his hero.
Suddenly tired, the half-Saiyan quickly undressed and lay down, knowing the night of sleep would be dreadfully short, but he had already managed much worse than a night in the sack. He fell asleep quickly.
One week later:
Gohan devoured his breakfast in one go, consisting of two liters of milk and a box of cereal. It was very light, but it would suffice until mealtime. He was eager to go out with his new friend Mirio.
He glanced at the couch and spotted Aizawa sprawled out in full length, having succumbed to the sweet embrace of sleep during last night's movie. An interesting film about All Might in Texas, and boy was it cheesy, but at least it was fun, and it gave Gohan an idea of how the symbol of peace was perceived by the media.
Son quietly got up from his chair, grabbed a piece of paper, and scribbled down where he was going, letting his grumpy hero sleep. Coexistence was going very well, in fact, Shota talked to him about a bit of everything, and they were still getting to know each other. He was a tough man, despite his apparent lethargy, but he was very kind and cared for him.
In fact, from a certain point of view, Aizawa resembled his first mentor, Piccolo; both had many common points, including the austere appearance and their frank language, while deep down, they were very pleasant.
Since Mr. Yamada had left two days ago, conversations were a bit less lively, which was due to, well, the bubbly character of the radio presenter.
Gohan placed the note on the table, then opened the front door, lifting it slightly so it wouldn't creak. He had woken the man once, and the look he received had chilled his blood; he could not make a mistake a second time!
Once outside, he headed to the park, where Mirio was waiting for him. They were going to play soccer; there was a small stadium not far away, then in the early afternoon, they would go to pick someone up. A certain Tamaki Amajiki, the blond's best friend, and therefore inevitably a jovial person for Gohan.
He soon arrived at the spot, dressed in a simple sports outfit he had bought the other day with his legal guardian. He had been uncomfortable with the man buying him clothes and food, but he later swore to repay him in some way. They hadn't found a GI, the outfit the young man preferred to wear, but he would eventually find one.
"Hi Mirio!" he exclaimed, joining him in the middle of the stadium, where other teenagers from his friend's school were. Which would presumably soon be his school too.
"Hi Gohan. Come on, I'll introduce you to the guys, you'll see, they're really nice!"
Indeed, Mirio's friends were cheerful people, all polite, and they didn't bother Gohan during their hour of soccer. Perhaps because Gohan had kicked the ball so hard he set the net on fire, then extinguished the flames in less than two seconds. Possibly...
They had fun like this, and it was a refreshing activity for him, before he saw no one, mainly because he lived in a house away from everything on Mount Paozu, but now he lived in a big city.
His great strength and build drew the attention of Mirio's friends, especially when they noticed some scars on his arms. Gohan internally cursed himself for wearing such a tight short-sleeved outfit, he would wear a longer one in the future. He didn't want to draw more attention to himself than necessary.
Otherwise, the rest of the morning passed in a pleasant blur, punctuated by Togata's jokes and ridiculous All Might-style celebrations with every goal. Mirio's imitations were hilarious, and although some mocked him, Son found it hilarious and encouraged his friend. If he loved All Might, then he had the right to show it to everyone!
Once mealtime came, all the friends left, and Mirio and Gohan returned to the park a bit higher up, joking around. Despite their two-year difference, they got along very well and had several things in common.
"Starting this fall, I'm going to start a training program to get into UA!"
This determination to become a hero worthy of protecting people warmed Gohan's heart, and showed him the kindness, the soul of a hero, the essence of a protector in his friend. He wasn't pretending, being a hero meant a lot to him. He would train so hard to achieve his dreams and protect those who would need his help...
This sparked a twinge of guilt in Gohan, knowing that he could easily become a hero with his strength, and that he could surpass all others... So he took a deep breath and gave Togata a look filled with new determination.
"Then, let me train with you, and let's become heroes together!"
Mirio smiled and placed his hand on his shoulder. "Of course!"
Thus, they promised to become heroes together, to save those who would need it. The foundation of their friendship!
They discussed for about ten minutes, then it was time to head back home, grab a meal, and then pick up Tamaki at his place. He had returned from vacation the day before, if he understood correctly. Son was looking forward to meeting his friend's best friend!
Opening the door, he noticed Aizawa working at the table, a flicker of nervousness in his eyes, which disappeared as soon as the young man entered the house. He questioned him with a look.
"It was great, I played soccer with Mirio and his friends. I'm going out this afternoon too!"
Shota sighed, glad to see him forming bonds with other people. Son seemed to have a friendly nature but was slightly introverted; perhaps being friends with Mirio would help him socialize. Anyway, for Aizawa, it was complicated to talk about this subject; he only had one friend and wasn't looking to make more.
"Alright. As long as you return on time, I'm fine with it. By the way, I bought you five pizzas; they're in the fridge."
"Thanks," he replied quietly, opening the fridge and heating the oven. It would be a light meal, like all meals, but it wasn't a big deal; he would go hunting like every night. However, he was very careful about the full moon and hadn't gone out the other day because of it; losing control and causing harm horrified him.
Once he savored his meal, he went back to his room. He had some time to kill before meeting Mirio, so he decided to read. "Encyclopedia of Different Types of Quirks."
He had borrowed a considerable number of books from the library, where he had already made friends with the manager, a man in his forties, with graying and unkempt hair, but whose literary knowledge was more than impressive. He was quite kind, and as he appreciated a young man's interest in scholarly literature, Gohan could borrow a bit more books. It was really nice.
Thus, he learned a little more about the world around him every day, discovering technical details about the different types of Quirks. He was most interested in mutant types because they were out of the ordinary, not that emitter types weren't, but there was a significant visual difference.
Since his outing and surprise fight the other week, he had encountered a second villain, a thief who had attacked an elderly man. Gohan had caught up with him after about ten meters, without using his power, and returned the wallet to the gentleman. In fact, Gohan's helpful and protective nature was already earning him a reputation, of which he was absolutely unaware.
What he didn't know was that Aizawa would soon hear about it if he continued like this, but, according to the laws, he hadn't done anything illegal so far. No doubt if he had to defy the law to save people, he would do it.
Finishing his reading after an hour, he placed the book on his dresser. Analyzing his room, he had painted the walls in blue and orange, and some of his clothes were purple, Piccolo's favorite color. Having it in his room was like having a part of him nearby. It might have been silly, but it was important to him.
He stepped out of the house, only to meet again with the sweltering heat of summer, which he particularly enjoyed. He loved all seasons, but the heavy warmth reminded him of Mount Paozu and swimming with his family, so it was a season he held dear.
"Gohan, over here!" he heard, then noticed the calming energy of Mirio, shining throughout the area yet soothing. Gohan wondered how his friend could always be so cheerful, but it must be in his very nature. The young Saiyan hoped to one day smile as much as him.
He walked with him, and they headed down the avenue, towards the Amakiji household.
"I gotta tell you," began Togata, with an oddly serious tone. "Tamaki is... sometimes a bit pessimistic and shy, but he's really a good guy! You too, I know, but you gotta be kind to him!"
Naturally, Gohan nodded; it was clear he would be kind to the other teenager, being mean wasn't in his nature. They eventually arrived in front of the house, Mirio stepped forward and knocked on the door.
No one answered, nor made a sound for a good thirty seconds, but the blonde didn't knock again, something Gohan would have done. After a minute, the door weakly opened, allowing Gohan to see who Mirio's famous friend was.
The teenager seemed a bit tired, and his back was slightly hunched, indicating a clear lack of physical confidence, which undoubtedly referred to the "pessimism." His eyes immediately connected with Mirio, and a brief joy appeared in them. The two must have known each other for a long time.
After about ten seconds, he acknowledged his presence and looked at him with marked curiosity, more than that even, timidity; he seemed almost to back away from the newcomer. "Who's this, Mirio?"
The blonde pulled Gohan towards him, grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him forward, to the greatest surprise of all three. "This is my new neighbor! His name is Son Gohan! I'm sure you two will get along great!"
"Hello," Gohan said more calmly, sending a peaceful wave towards the other boy, who... after gathering his courage for a long time, nodded.
"My name is... Tamaki Amajiki."
"Awesome!" Mirio exclaimed loudly. "How about we take a walk? I can't stay still!"
Mirio's boundless energy brought a faint smile to his best friend's face, who quickly put on a pair of shoes before stepping out. The trio of boys casually headed towards Mirio's "surprise."
The journey didn't last more than twenty minutes, but it was clear that Amajiki wasn't the most talkative, or at least, he thought too much before giving a response. He seemed unsure, but Gohan spotted a determined look in his eyes several times when he focused on Togata.
Son did his best to make Tamaki comfortable, but each attempt ended in semi-failures. It was evident that it would take time for harmony to develop between him and the brunette. Unperturbed, he continued to converse with Mirio, occasionally trying to include the shy boy.
Eventually, they arrived at Mirio's destination: an arcade. "Taaaada! I brought some of my pocket money so we could all have fun together!"
Amajiki allowed a small smile to slip onto his features, but it soon faded. "You're too kind, Mirio..."
The blonde responded with a thumbs-up and a bright white smile, classic Togata. Gohan hadn't known him for long, but his new friend always acted like this, with a big smile and always in a good mood. He would have gotten along very well with Son Goku.
After wandering around the arcade for a bit, the blonde pointed to an arcade machine, a gleam of challenge flashing in his deep blue eyes. "You owe me a rematch on this game!"
Amajiki resigned himself and joined Mirio, sitting on the fake seat and taking the fake steering wheel in his hands. Gohan stayed a bit behind, trying to understand how video games in the room worked because, if he had to be honest with himself, he knew nothing about them. His life had been entirely focused on combat and studies, and as the years passed, entertainment became less of an option.
Now, he just enjoyed discovering so many things and watched with a strategic eye the friendly match between the two, which seemed to have taken place dozens of times before. Contrary to what Goku's son might have bet, the match was fiercely contested, Mirio's reflexes against Tamaki's perfectly mastered technique. It turned out to be particularly intense and exciting, captivating his attention for many minutes.
But in the end, it was Amajiki who emerged victorious, with a slight smile. "I got lucky."
Mirio leapt from his seat and waved Gohan over, then he turned to his friend. "Nah! You're just really good. Now, let's see how you fare against a new challenger!"
Gohan thus took his seat and clumsily grasped the steering wheel, mimicking how Aizawa drove. He took a deep breath in and out, calming his breath and minimizing his energy level; he didn't want to damage the machine.
Match 2: Start!
Gohan pressed the pedal and accelerated as much as he could, overtaking the lagging AIs, leaving him in second position against his now rival, who had a slight lead on him. A glance at the mini-map indicated a tight right turn ahead, so he prepared for it.
He took the turn almost perfectly, slightly overtaking his opponent, then continued to follow the track. He quickly noticed Mirio's astonished look as he placed a hand on both seats, playing the commentator's role. He was almost the spitting image of a junior Present Mic.
Encouraged by the commentary, he continued to be guided by his instinct, and he took the next two turns with a certain elegance, however, Tamaki was hot on his heels.
"A race is never finished!" Togata commented confidently, "will a miracle happen, or will the undisputed race champion continue his streak?!"
Gohan completed the first lap, out of three, in the first position, with only a half-second lead. Any small mistake... he risked losing the race! He was really enjoying himself, but he continued to focus on the race.
The second lap was similar to the first, but the turning point of the race came on the third and final lap. Gohan, to his great surprise, missed the second turn, losing a precious second to his opponent, who missed no turns, giving him no chance.
Such was the harsh law of racing! One should not lose focus on the last lap, but regardless, Son was surprised by Amajiki's mastery, his precision, and concentration. It was just a game, but it meant something nonetheless.
"Incredible! Our challenger fails at the end of the race, and it's the unbeatable champion who crosses the finish line first!"
Match 2: End!
Gohan stood up laughing a little; he had spent a quite intense few minutes in this video game, and he hoped to have another match later. Mirio patted him on the back, impressed that he had kept up with the "mega champion" on his first race, while it took Togata fifteen tries to get there.
Amajiki seemed almost to melt under the positive comments, and they laughed about it. They then moved on to a second game, this time much more brutal.
"I like this one!" Mirio said as he inserted a coin into the machine. A ball suspended by a metal rod fell right in front of his eyes. "Okay, Gohan, the goal is simple. You have to hit the ball as hard as possible, and your score will be evaluated out of 1,000."
To demonstrate, he stepped back slightly and hit the ball hard. His movement was simple, quick, and efficient, a solid right hook. A series of beeps sounded, and a number in deep red appeared, with an image of a boxer in the background. "819! Bravo!"
"Not bad, close to my record!" He said with a satisfied smile. "Alright, Tamaki, your turn!"
The shy boy stepped forward and looked at the ball despondently for a few seconds before sighing. He stepped back a bit and hit with all his might; it was much weaker than Mirio, but faster. However, his movement was too sloppy... The score climbed up to "499! Not bad!" and a crude image of an old man walking with his cane in hand mocked the score.
"Ah, I knew it…" The boy said weakly, stepping back to make way for Gohan. Mirio comforted his best friend but watched Son's attempt intently. Curious to see his real strength.
The half-Saiyan eyed the machine apprehensively, knowing he'd have to seriously restrain himself if he didn't want to shatter it into a thousand pieces. He didn't have the money to reimburse it, and he didn't want to embarrass himself in front of his friends... He breathed calmly, minimizing his energy to the strict minimum, and hit the ball with control. The ball and machine trembled fiercely but ultimately held up.
Gohan let out a sigh of contentment, happy to have held back enough, as the number climbed unceasingly. "1,000 out of 1,000! We have a new champion!" The machine declared as epic music played in the background.
"Wow, that's a lot..." Amajiki gasped in surprise, astonished to see Mirio's score toppled before his eyes. The new neighbor seemed incredibly strong, and for the first time, he lingered on his physique, which was strangely muscular for a kid his age...
"Incredible!" Mirio exclaimed, approaching the machine, then glanced at Gohan, still as surprised. "You've got to teach me how to hit like you!"
Son scratched his neck, embarrassed by the attention as many people stared at the score with wide eyes. "Sure." He agreed before turning to fetch the water bottle the blond had brought with him.
After that... episode, the magical trio continued their adventures in the arcade for about an hour until Mirio was out of coins, but with a big smile on his face. Conversations and topics flowed easily as the group made their way back to their neighborhood, all happy with the outing.
Amajiki was the first to head home, awkwardly waving goodbye to his friends, who one after another returned to their homes.
When Gohan closed the door behind him, he glanced at Aizawa, happy. It had been a really good day.
What Son didn't know was that really good days were about to become his new norm.
To be continued…
A/N : Thank you for reading and for the feedback you've been giving me lately. The next chapter will be released on February 22nd. If you enjoyed your read, please feel free to leave a review and add the fic to your favorites.