AN: Hello everyone! I didn't think I would be back in this fandom, but I came across so many tributes after Akira Toriyama passed away, and they all reminded me of how much I love Dragon Ball Z, and how influential it was to my childhood and my writing in general. I realized how evergreen an OTP Gh/Vi (or Hanvi, as it's now more popularly called) is, and to this day, I love the premise of their friendship and romance. Fortunately I was already taking a break from other writing, so I've decided to take a plunge back into fanfiction for the time being.
I wanted to write something that helped me get a better sense of Videl and Gohan's dynamic. I also wanted to see if I could get a handle on their characterization again, so this is more of an exercise than anything.
I haven't read or seen Dragon Ball Super, and from what I've heard of it, I'm not really interested. That said, I'm glad that it exists and that it's helping pull in new fans into the franchise and keeping the love for the series alive.
I've been reading the DBZ manga for the first time (I only saw the anime previously), so this fic is mostly based on the manga.
Stars dusted the black sky by the time Videl landed on the building's rooftop. Her flight here would have made a more romantic individual wax poetic, but she'd never been one of those, and the persistent agitation itching in her chest rendered any opportunity for poetry null and void. As it was, the sky only reminded her of the glazed and powdered donuts that Buu had turned much of their furniture into during the last ten days.
Videl snatched a capsule from her pocket, and with a quick press on the button at the top, a small duffel bag emerged in front of her. She opened it and grabbed the scrubs that would be her disguise inside the building. Slipping into the shadow of a ventilation, she pulled the dull green smock over her shirt, donned on the rubber gloves, and fitted a cleaning mask over her face. Inside the multi-storied office of the biggest investment brokerage in Coriander City, there were only two ways she could be inconspicuous. And with her youth and distinctly unrefined fashion choices - at least according to Erasa - it wasn't as one of the professional brokers, especially not at night.
She packed everything back into the capsule and approached the door to the building. It was a simple metallic affair, adorned with a basic lock that gave way with a twist of a hair pin. It wasn't that Tauro Brokers was negligent with their security; it was that the rooftop wasn't accessible from anywhere other than the inside of the building. At least for most people who couldn't fly.
Videl slipped inside, happy to see weak yellow lights lining the staircase. Junior Constable Lansat was correct that they'd be on. In that case, according to him, she wouldn't have any trouble finding the janitor's closet on the tenth floor two doors down from the staircase entry. She would grab a cleaner's cart, and the remaining trek down the hallway to Mr. Tauro's office should be a piece of cake. None of the guards on the way would bother her. That left only the two who were assigned to Mr. Tauro's office, but two wouldn't be a problem.
Junior Constable Lansat proved correct again when Videl acquired the cleaner's cart with no hint of trouble. As she strolled down the carpeted hall, the guards standing periodically at strategic intersections hardly paid her any attention beyond a nod.
"They're getting younger and younger these days," one of them whispered to his partner as she passed by.
"You know how Mr. Tauro is."
Videl's hands tightened on the cart's handles. Being a scammer was one thing. A lech, too? Oh, she'd enjoy bringing that greedy bovine down.
But this operation had been personal from the beginning.
In the days after the defeat of Majin Buu, several victims of fraud came forward to the police in Herculopolis. Their insurance providers were requesting they return the life insurance they'd claimed for family members who'd died during Buu's initial killing sprees. Now that they were all alive again, it was only fair that the life insurance be returned.
The weird thing was, none of the victims' families had ever collected those insurance.
But somebody had.
And the victims weren't isolated to Herculopolis. As the days passed, Videl and the officers heard similar cases across various cities.
Earlier that morning, Junior Constable Lansat had approached Videl with a lead. "I studied all the calls by the claimants. We first assumed they must have come from the same source, but whoever it is must be using some tunnel to obfuscate their trace. Y'know what worked, though? Analyzing the vocal patterns. They must have used some software to modify their voice, but all the calls had the same vocal signature."
A whiz with computers, it wasn't surprising at all that Lansat had been able to decipher this. It was what made him such a great asset to the police force even though he was only several years older than Videl herself. "Where does that leave us?" she'd asked him.
"I found a potential match in our database. Still, we have no concrete evidence. Insurance fraud is not very high up on the priorities of the Herculopolis force right now. But I received consent from Chief Squamos to pursue it if I use my own time and resources. The good thing is that if we can find documents or some kind of paper trail, it should be an easy shut and done case. Videl, if you're up for it, you can pursue my lead."
Lansat's lips had stretched into a shy smile, as he'd turned from his computer to look at her. His slicked-back brown hair and smattering of freckles made him look positively twelve. "We'll present the proof to the higher-ups and maybe I can finally scratch out that Junior in my name tag, eh? And of course, it'll be good for you too, right?"
Something about his tone had told Videl he wasn't just referring to the thrill of solving a white-collar crime, which rarely came her way. "Good for me, how?"
His smile had wavered, and she hadn't missed the half-second glance he'd cast towards the door of the briefing room. Nobody had been out in the hallway, but still Lansat had lowered his voice more. "I heard Chief Squamos and Chief Kasava talking the other day... about the tournament."
A sliver of foreboding had snaked down Videl's back.
"Look, most people don't really know what happened," Lansat had been quick to add. He'd fidgeted with the big green ring on his middle finger. It was a gaudy thing, the shape of a leaf bevelled in jade and set in silver. "The cameras all broke, and most of us had nothing to watch. But there's been talk from people who were there. They say... you... your match was... unfortunate. And well, the chiefs seem to have lost confidence. I heard they're considering discharging you from your voluntary role. Maybe making an offer to the Great Saiyaman instead. He's the Golden Warrior too, isn't he?"
Even a bucket of ice water wouldn't have compared to the frigid dread that had poured over Videl. It had numbed her mind, and the only thing she'd been able to think of at the time was how in the world she could possibly be discharged as a volunteer. She'd been helping the police since she'd been fourteen. One bad match, one moment of weakness, and three years' worth of work was suddenly nothing to them.
The sensation echoed through her now in the darkened hallway, accompanied by a pang in her chest that left her momentarily breathless. But no, she wouldn't think of Gohan now. This had nothing to do with him. It wasn't his fault. This was between her and the Herculopolis force, and the one thing that could set things straight between them.
Around a corner, Videl spotted the large wooden doors that announced Mr. Tauro's office, and the two broad men standing on either side of the entrance. She stopped the cart right in front of them. They wore matching black suits so stiff that she wondered how they could possibly move their limbs in them. Perhaps their position as guards were merely decorative. She decided to name the one on the left Decoration One, and the one on the right Decoration Two.
"Go right along, lass," Decoration One said, pointing his thumb down the other side of the hallway. "Mr. Tauro doesn't let midnight cleaners inside his office."
"First night?" Decoration Two asked.
Videl gave a demure little nod. "Ah yes, and it seems like the previous cleaner left this bottle of bleach closed way too tight. Mind giving me a hand with it before I head to the washrooms?"
Decoration Two adjusted his tie as if he was going to have a stern verbal spat with a cleaning agent, then crouched by the cart to reach the bottle on the bottom tray. Videl stepped lightly towards Decoration One who was watching his partner with mild interest, and gave him a quick jab to the neck. She rushed to balance his unconscious body before it toppled, leaning him back against the wall adjacent to the door. There was a perfect recess there to hold him up.
"All right, here you go." Decoration Two stood up, placing the bottle of bleach on the top tray, now free of its cap. He turned back to the door, and Videl allowed him a split-second to contemplate the sleeping face of his partner, before she side-stepped up to him and delivered the same blow. She dragged his standing body to the matching recess on the other side of the doorway.
It wasn't too difficult to find the key-card by their belts. She used Decoration One's card to open the door and slipped inside Mr. Tauro's office.
Moonlight streamed from the glass panels lining two walls of the room. Another wall was covered with shelves packed with books, while the remaining side sported an open cabinet of bottles of wine. A large wooden table occupied the middle of the room, piled with papers and folders on one side and a desktop computer on the other.
Videl got to work. She only had ten minutes before the guards would surely wake from their stupor. Junior Constable Lansat had surmised that whatever paper trail Mr. Tauro's scam had would likely be digital. He'd conducted all the false insurance claims over the phone or the net. Videl had wondered why Lansat couldn't just hack into Mr. Tauro's computer, but the young constable had said that would take at least a few days' of setup. They would somehow have to convince the president of the investing company to voluntarily - if unknowingly - install a spyware.
Well, there were faster ways to get digital assets. Videl pulled a capsule from her pocket, which poofed out a small toolbox. She selected a small screwdriver and began unscrewing the CPU case. Before long, one panel slid aside, and she released the hard drive from the motherboard. She eased back the panel, making sure it looked untampered, then set the case back to its original position. The toolbox and the hard drive went to separate capsules.
Heart thumping in her chest, Videl exited the office and didn't bother with the cart. It would only slow her down. She tried not to run down the hallway, lest the other guards became suspicious, but one did call out to her, "Done already?"
"Nah, I just forgot the mop," she answered, hoping that if her voice sounded shaky, they would assume it was because she was a young, new employee who wanted to do her job correctly the first night.
When she reached the stairway, she abandoned all pretenses. She took the steps two, sometimes three, at a time, sometimes flying over entire flights.
The door on the thirteenth floor landing slammed open. Videl pulled to a stop but not fast enough to avoid banging her head on it. Dizzy and with bright spots blinding her, she barely got an arm up to block a punch from the figure that emerged on the other side of the door. The impact sent her a few steps back, but her foot slid over a step. She grabbed the railing as she spun out of balance, and the awkward placement of her weight twisted her arm uncomfortably. A punch on her back broke her tenuous hold and she toppled down the stairs.
Still, Videl was fast enough in recovering that she managed to observe her assailant's descent down the steps. They were covered from head to toe in black, their face obscured by a mask and a visor, hands covered in leather gloves. Videl shot up to her feet, grabbing the person's wrist as their arm swung towards her again for another punch. This time, she kneed them in the stomach hard enough that they doubled over her waist, a guttural hack escaping from their mouth. She pushed the assailant back, made to grab for their visor, but they weaseled away.
Before Videl knew it, the masked figure dashed to the next landing, not bothering to give her another glance. They opened the door and escaped on the twelfth floor.
For a split moment, Videl wondered if she ought to pursue the person. Who was that? And what did they want? Why attack her, only to leave a minute later?
Then alarms blazed all over the building, and all thoughts other than getting away vanished from her mind. The two guards she'd knocked out must have woken.
Videl took the steps again, but this time it was guards that spilled out the door onto both landings. They did a double take on her, unsure of her uniform, but cleaner or not, her frazzled presence there was condemning.
Well, there was nothing else left to do. At least having recovered from a surprise attack and a bump to the head, she was better equipped to handle a fight this time around.
She launched into the air, making for the door to the thirteenth floor. The guards cried in surprise, as she parried the arms and batons that swung her way. One had the sense to block the door, but a snap of her leg sent him barrelling into the others down the stairs.
Videl entered the hallway, not at all surprised to see more guards rushing towards her. The softer, cooler light of the moon streamed through a full-length window at one end of the hall, contrasting with the dim yellow glow of the lamps lining the way there. She sprinted, doing little more than pushing, jabbing, and shoving the surge of guards and their weapons and she slithered through the throng. A woman up ahead, young and shaking, pulled out a gun and shot at Videl a couple of times, but did so with her eyes closed. Videl might be no Saiyaman, but it didn't take an alien to dodge poorly aimed bullets. She closed the distance to the terrified guard, smacked the gun from her hands, and kicked her in the knees.
The latch to the window wasn't locked - perhaps nobody expected someone to jump out of it, when they were over a dozen stories high. Videl opened it, squeezed through the aperture and rocketed to the inky black sky, leaving behind the cacophony of panic and shock simmering in the investment building.
Her incredible speed took her to the outskirts of the city in no time, the view below abruptly switching from concrete domes and towers to wild grass and snaking river and sparse copses of trees. Videl barely had time to catch her breath and reorient herself, when her energy winked out, head blanking, vision dimming. She plummeted through the air, tumbling through wisps of clouds, and she only managed one last burst of chi to fight off gravity and soften her landing on the fields below.
Still, she bounced ungracefully across the grass, each bump against the ground the promising start of a bruise. She slowed to a stop, ribs aching, lungs screaming. Videl gulped down mouthfuls of air, forcing clarity into her brain, focus into her vision.
When the sky finally had only one moon, she rose to a sitting position and inspected her body. What happened? Did she overestimate how much power it would take to fly that fast, that far?
Then she noticed it, before she felt it.
There was a growing red stain on her shoulder. The wet stickiness of it indicated it couldn't be anything else other than blood. And the growing sense of sharp pain deep in her flesh drove home exactly why she'd gone down in flight.
Videl didn't expect the bitter laugh that bubbled out of her. What had she thought of in that hallway? That it didn't take an alien to dodge poorly aimed bullets? Well, apparently it did.
She patted the pockets of her pants for the capsule containing her first-aid kit. She stilled, finding them flat. She leaned over, muscles protesting, to better look at the pockets in the silvery light of the moon.
They were empty.
Well, no, there was something there that hadn't been there before. Holes.
Videl pushed her fingers into both pockets and they slid right through slits at the bottom, poking out of her pants. No capsules.
She almost gasped but the air stuck in her throat. That masked fellow. The way they'd bent over her when she'd kneed them in the gut. They hadn't been trying to stop her or fight her. They'd been stealing from her. The sneaky bastard!
But who were they? And how did they know she had something worth stealing in a capsule?
Videl threw herself back on the grass and released an agonized groan. Getting shot by an amateur? Getting stolen from without her noticing? Damn it all, maybe she should get discharged from the Herculopolis force. Save Chief Squamos and Kasava the trouble, and just quit by herself.
A new wave of lightheadedness speared through her self-admonishment. Quickly losing blood, she tore off a piece of her cleaner's smock and wrapped it tight around her shoulder. It was not time yet for a pity party.
There were more places a girl could hide capsules. Wiping her bloody hands on her pants, Videl reached into her bra, a wide-banded sports brand with plenty of coverage, and pulled the two capsules she had tucked between her breasts. One was for a backup jet copter and the other was for the hard drive. She chuckled, wondering what that masked thief would do with her first-aid kit, toolbox, and empty disguise bag.
Videl popped the capsule for the copter and an old, rusty Windswimmer 14.0 emerged in front of her. The outside may not look like much, but the internals were all intact and up to date. She sometimes used this copter to avoid being spotted by the press.
Pushing herself off the ground, Videl glanced east, then south. She could head back to Herculopolis and check herself in the hospital. But word would quickly get out that she'd been injured. Her trust in Herculopolis Hospital's ability to keep patient information confidential had long been broken. And then what would this news do to the police's confidence in her? Diminish it more, most likely.
She grunted as she entered the copter. It would be a long drive to Pyropia Village.
Pyropia Village was nestled in a rocky outcropping by the sea. Its villagers depended mostly on fishing and the trading caravans that came once a month. It was also Videl's childhood home, back before her family had moved to Orange City, back when her father had been a no-name whose only major accomplishment was scaring away the local bears from the barrels of fish.
Not many people knew of their roots here, and she was glad for that. It meant that she could still have some semblance of privacy in Pyropia Village, something she availed herself more often than she'd admit.
Despite the darkness and her worsening condition, Videl made it to Old Sal's little hut with very little difficulty. The old surgeon showed no surprise when she opened the door and found Videl on the other side of it. She took one glance at the reddened sleeve, rubbed her eyes and sighed, then waved the young woman in.
The last time Videl had come here was while she'd been training for the tournament. There had been a day when her father had invited the press for an interview about how he'd been preparing for the event - she didn't know what he'd told them since he hadn't really been preparing all that much. But she didn't want to get caught up, so she'd taken off.
Nothing much had changed inside the hut since her last visit. The receiving room was a tidy little space with two benches for patients, a shelf filled with instruments and medicine, and a small table with a tea set. The farthest end of the room was sequestered by a white curtain, and Videl knew that behind it was a stretcher where Old Sal performed her operations.
"You know," Old Sal began, her voice thin and airy in the quiet of the night. "For someone who's so protective of his daughter that he forbade you to date anyone weaker than him, I'm surprised your Da lets you get into fights. I feel like one is more dangerous than the other, and it's not the option he closed off."
Videl chuckled. "It doesn't matter, I care more about the fights." She pulled aside the curtain and sat on the stretcher. The surgeon took a pair of shears and began snipping off Videl's sleeve. "Dads will be dads, I guess... half my classmates aren't allowed to date until they're married."
"Hah!" Old Sal clicked her tongue. "Well then, looks like your Da still has something in common with other parents. I didn't think there would be."
It was strange to hear a sincere criticism aimed at her father, one devoid of jealousy or spite or desire for scandal. Stranger to hear a criticism that Videl often had herself. Most of the time she believed she'd accepted the absurd metamorphosis her father had undergone after fame and grief suffused their lives, but there was a part of her that rankled that he wasn't a better father. A better person.
But she could say the same for herself.
Old Sal handed Videl a teacup filled to the brim with brown liquid. "You know the drill now, drink this."
It didn't take long for the anaesthesia to kick in. The last thing Videl was aware of was laying her head down on the stretcher as Old Sal continued to cut away at her shirt.
Two nights later, Videl was well enough to leave the surgeon's hut and keen watchfulness. Old Sal said other than the bullet wound and the blood loss, there wasn't much else that ought to concern her. Just a few scrapes and bruises, one of which apparently looked a little funny. "Someone must have been wearing one of those funky knuckle guards," the surgeon had surmised.
Videl couldn't tell, as the bruise was on her back, and craning her neck that far made her left shoulder twinge with pain.
She headed for a small bungalow fifteen minutes down the path from Old Sal's. It was on the outskirts of the main village, and Videl remembered how, as a small kid, she used to complain to her parents why she had to walk so far just to play with the other children, why they lived so far away from the fun neighbours.
Videl treasured its isolation now.
The house, abandoned though it was, still felt more like a home than her family's mansion in Herculopolis. A one-bedroom affair, it still bore her mother's touches in the cozy furniture they'd never sold, the idyllic paintings hanging on the walls, the pastel drapes over the windows.
Videl slumped on the sofa, sinking in its old cushions, as the muscles in her shoulder, neck and back throbbed with residual pain. She propped her school bag next to her, thanking her past self for packing it in the Windswimmer copter, along with her cellphone, a change of clothes, and a case of capsulized meals. She wouldn't be bored while planning her next step.
She had set up a workstation in the living room, for times exactly like this. Nursing injuries, staking out criminals, and finishing homework were staple activities every time she visited Pyropia. Now, Videl swapped the hard drive she'd stolen from Mr. Tauro's office with the one in her desktop. It was time to see what kind of evidence she had against the businessbull.
And perhaps, it might also give her a clue to that masked thief who'd accosted her.
She allowed the decrypting software to run on the hard drive. With the latest version from Capsule Corps - which cost her a fortune- it would take about half-an-hour to break open the disk for easy probing. In the meantime, she opened her cellphone, knowing she must have missed a few calls from her father, her school, and perhaps her friends.
As soon as her cellphone received a signal, a bubble of 8 waiting voice messages popped on the screen. Well, that was quite a bit more than Videl was expecting. She frowned, anxious that something awful must have happened that had required her attention. Maybe the city police finally decided to cut her loose. Maybe they've been trying to reach out to her to tell her not to come back to the station anymore.
Videl dialled the receiving number, fidgeting on the sofa as the messages rolled one after the other.
"Hey sweetpea!" The booming, saccharine voice of her father emanated from the speaker. Despite everything, Videl found herself smiling. "Heard you're working on an operation. Best of luck and be safe, okay? The press tour is going great! I'll come back with some of those chocolate-covered raspberries you like so much. Call me when you're home. Mwah!"
Next was Erasa's high-pitched bubbly tone. "Viddy! I know you asked me to keep tabs on homework, so here goes. Mrs. Keso assigned all the odd-number problems for Chapter 16, and we have to find five examples of similes and metaphors in our assigned book for lit. Uh, what else? Oh, Coach said to bring tennis shoes next week. But you'll be back tomorrow though, right? I have some juicy stuff to tell you. Sharpner's keeping his lips sealed about it, but as your bestie, I promise I'll spill all the tea."
"Hi, Videl." A deep voice, cool and soft, followed Erasa's chipper message. Gohan. "Erasa told me you were preparing for a case tonight, that's why you missed school. Is there anything I can help with? Let me know, okay? I don't think homework's going to take all night."
"Videl, hi, it's me again, Gohan. Uh, you weren't in class this morning. Did something go wrong with the operation? I, uh... don't get angry, but I watched out for your chi last night. You didn't return my call, so I... well, your chi disappeared some time past midnight and I haven't felt it since. Are you all right? Are you keeping low? Call me back, okay?"
"Hey, Videl, um it's me. I visited the police station and the hospital on my way home to check if maybe you showed up there. But the cops and the nurses said they haven't seen you. Are you okay? Please call me when you get a chance."
"Videl, it's me again, Gohan. I just realized that maybe you don't know where you are! Maybe you got stranded somewhere and can't find your way back. Look, I can help track you. Just spike your chi, and I'll be there right away. I'll keep my senses up for the rest of the night."
Gohan's messages were interrupted by Junior Constable Lansat, who sounded almost as distressed. "Videl, where are you? Did you get the hard drive? Listen, it's very important that we get to take a look at its contents as soon as possible. Mr. Tauro has already reported its disappearance and he's working with enforcers to capture the thief. You don't want to be caught with it. Call me as soon as you get this."
"Hey, it's Gohan. I... Videl, did I do something to upset you? Are you angry with me? I know I can be a bit of a dunce sometimes. Maybe I messed up somehow, but I would love to talk it out with you. You can yell at me if you want." He sighed, mumbling something that Videl couldn't quite make out. "But no, you wouldn't miss three days of school just because of me. You aren't that petty. You're responsible. Which means you must be hurt or in trouble. Videl, just one flare of your chi and I can find you. I promise I can help."
The roll of voice messages stopped, and the only sound in the living room was the whirring of the hard drive as it was being decrypted. Videl hunched lower in the sofa, only now realizing she'd clutched a hand over her chest. There was a sharp ache in it, so sweet it was bitter.
She had imagined finishing this mission with enough time for a five-hour sleep before making it to class on time the next day. She would have been quick, effective, slick and suave. Lansat would have brought the evidence to the chiefs, put in a good word for her, and her standing with the force would have gone back to normal. Gohan - The Great Saiyaman - wouldn't need to be involved.
But here he was, leaving five worried voice messages on her phone. Not her father, not Erasa, not Lansat. It seemed almost cruel to leave him uninformed at this point.
It was close to 11pm now. Would he still be awake at this time? She didn't want to disturb the Son family. Videl dialled his number anyway.
A jolly, gravelly voice answered the ring. "Hello, Son residence!"
"Oh, hello Mr. Ox King. This is Videl. Is Gohan still awake?"
"Videl! Gohan would be so happy to hear-"
"Videl?" A different voice shot through the phone, one she'd spent the last few minutes listening to. "Are you okay? Where are you? I've been calling so many times!"
"I'm sorry, Gohan." And she truly was. "I'm fine, I just got shot-"
"Shot?" His voice rose about half an octave and a handful of decibels.
"I'm safe now!" she hurried to reassure him. "It just took a while to recover. I'm in Pyropia village."
"Pyropia?"
"Here, can you feel me?" She forced a surge of energy to her center, the way Gohan had taught her during their first flying lesson.
"Yes, I can detect you!" he said with an almost childish glee. "I'll be there soon!"
"You don't have to come," she said, perhaps a bit too quickly. She had assumed he only wanted information. "It must be way past your bedtime."
"I want to see you. Wait right there." His voice dimmed a little. "Grandpa, can you tell Mom I'm stepping out for a bit? It's an emergency." Then the line cut.
Videl stared at her phone for a few more seconds, tummy fluttering.
The mirror across the room reflected back an image of her with clammy, pale skin, deep bags under her eyes, disarrayed hair, and a cut lip. It was a Videl that contrasted sharply with how she'd imagined a competent, admirable city protector would have executed this operation. It galled her to know that this was how Gohan would see her tonight. He'd wonder how stupid she could be for not asking him for help. How inconsiderate for worrying him. He'd said she wasn't petty, but that was wrong. She was in this exact situation, precisely because she'd been petty.
Videl postponed the call to Lansat, figuring it would be better to have a discussion after she'd poked around in the hard drive. She then sent a text message to Erasa, thanking her for the updates to their homework.
Last, she left a voice message for her father. "Hey Dad, glad to hear the tour's going well. There was a minor setback in my ops, but I'm still on top of it. Thanks for getting me those chocolates." And because she was surrounded by mementos of her mother, she couldn't help the giddy indignation that sliced through her. "And Dad? Lay off the ladies, okay? You're not allowed to take out anyone who isn't stronger than me." She chuckled and finished the call.
It wasn't that she hated her father. Hate was a strong word. When she'd died, she'd taken the opportunity to peek through King Yemma's verdicts on perished souls. And if she'd learned anything from that, it was that there were worse things a person could do than lie to his daughter for the better part of seven years.
Her father's radically comic persona had been bearable at first. He'd always been that way on stage, and there had even been a place for it in the sombre moments during her mother's illness, a desperate beam of light warding off approaching shadows. But time had passed, and it was like he'd forgotten it was a costume he could take off. The claims he'd made about himself had become more grandiose.
It didn't take a genius to poke holes in his stories. As a child, Videl had asked him how exactly he'd defeated Cell, what had actually happened during the games, who'd been there, who'd lost, who'd gotten killed - for years she'd asked, and every time her father's answer had been different. At thirteen she'd stopped asking.
Since then, Videl supposed she'd had plenty of opportunities to confront him. But she hadn't, because she loved him. At least that's what she'd told herself. He wasn't hurting people. Regardless of whether or not he'd actually killed Cell, he was still extremely strong.
But maybe she'd just been afraid. Afraid of what it would mean if he'd been a liar after all, afraid of what his lies had done to her. With her father so caught up in himself, there was nobody else who could care for her. Certainly not the rotating-door of servants in their otherwise empty household. So she'd raised herself, trained herself, told herself she was important and powerful, that she was needed, that she was respected. That she was as deserving of admiration and awe as he was.
Maybe all this time, she'd allowed her father to live his lie so she could live hers too.
An eager knock on the door startled Videl from her thoughts. She glanced at the clock on her workstation. It had only been five minutes since she'd gotten off the phone with Gohan. That couldn't be him yet, could it?
But it was. He stood outside the door, cheeks flushed from the cool night air, black hair dishevelled from his flight. He was in a plain white shirt and an unzipped hoodie. His bottoms were a pair of polka-dot pyjamas. He really did take off just like that from his place.
"Videl!" he cried, stepping into the house and placing his hands on her shoulders.
"Ah!" she flinched away, her wound throbbing with pain. Gohan snatched his hands away.
"I'm sorry! Where are you hurt?"
She indicated her left shoulder with a nod. "The bullet didn't lodge too deeply, but the anaesthesia's worn off." She closed the door behind him.
"I took a detour to Korin's tower to see if he has some senzu beans lying around, but he's out of it. I'll try again in a few days." Gohan glanced about the living room. Now that he was here, the pang in Videl's chest sprouted again. "What is this place?" he asked.
"It used to be my old house." She sat back on the couch, and patted the seat next to her. "This was where my family lived until I was five."
"I didn't know that." A soft smile crossed his face, a hint of fascination. Videl didn't know what to make of it. She'd always been rather protective of this piece of her past, bracing against jeers of her humbler roots or the invasion of the only remaining place where she could have some privacy.
"Not many people do."
"Videl, um..." Gohan's smile shrank and he fidgeted with his fingers. "The last time I sensed your chi, you were much further north."
"Coriander City, yes."
His fingers stilled. "Pyropia village is two hundred kilometers from Coriander City. But Mountain Area is only forty. That city is the closest to our foothills."
Videl sensed where he was going with this and her belly tightened in apprehension.
"Why didn't you come to me?" His voice was soft, but probing.
She had known Mountain Area was nearby. It just hadn't been an acceptable option where she could lick her wounds. "I have history here," she explained. "The surgeon, Old Sal, and I go way back. She knows me well." Which was true.
Gohan opened his mouth to respond, but the whirring of the hard drive suddenly stopped and the resulting silence pierced the room. Videl took advantage of the distraction almost too eagerly, and she hopped over to her workstation.
A quick grep for the names of the insurance companies who'd received claims pulled up exactly the files that Videl was after. Junior Constable Lansat's lead was spot on. It looked like Mr. Tauro truly was the scammer that had impersonated family members of the deceased. The claims were all right there. And the grep had brought up not only the signed claims, but also downloaded bank statements showing which accounts the funds had gone to.
This was a treasure trove. Warm relief infused Videl's limbs. She'd done it. She'd actually managed to get exactly what she and Lansat needed to complete this mission. Everything would be okay.
She promptly sent those files to the printer and made several backups of the entire disk.
"What happened in Coriander City?" Gohan asked. "Are you allowed to tell me?"
If he'd asked even a few minutes earlier, Videl might have hesitated. But there was no risk in telling him now. She was basically finished with her job. The only thing left to do was to contact Lansat and hand over the evidence to him.
"We found the culprit who fraudulently claimed the life insurance of some people who were killed by Buu," she explained as she grabbed the pile of pages from the printer tray. "You know Tauro Brokers? Apparently, it's the CEO. But we needed evidence, so I filched it from his office."
She sat back down on the couch, flipping through the papers. "Unfortunately, I had a run-in with another thief who was probably there to steal the same thing..." That's right, she still didn't know how that other thief had figured out that she would have the hard drive on her. More mysteries to unravel after this was all over. "And their presence alerted the guards. There was a fight, and I got shot while escaping, silly me."
In the light of the lamp by the couch, Videl inspected the contents of the claims more closely. Mr. Tauro didn't use his name, but she'd expected that. He'd targeted young married professionals and had posed as their spouse to claim the insurance. And he'd performed the scam rapidly. There were twenty-two claims, totalling over 11 million zennis, over just a handful of days.
The bank statements were even more interesting. Videl was able to pinpoint the deposits from the insurance based on the amount, but what caught her eye was that each of these deposits was then immediately followed by two withdrawals. One to an account nicknamed T. Brokers, and another to something more cryptic: L.X. Pay.
"Well, seems like we know what he was using the money for," she mumbled.
"He's injecting it into his business," Gohan observed, leaning close to her so he could also scan the papers. "Guess his investments aren't doing as well as he advertised."
"You're probably right about that. But he's only using up three-quarters of each claim. The remaining quarter he's giving to someone else."
"An accomplice, perhaps?"
Videl read to the last entry on the bank statements. Weirdly enough, the last three claims weren't split into two withdrawals. A hundred percent of those claims were funnelled to T. Brokers. But if Gohan's conjecture was correct, why would Mr. Tauro stop paying his accomplice? Could the accomplice have been fully paid off and no longer needed the latest funds?
"Does L.X. Pay mean anything to you?" Gohan asked.
Videl shook her head. She didn't know any companies with that name. Most likely they were initials of a person, but that could be just about anybody. It could even be Lansat. His last name was Xen, wasn't it?
A cold weight sunk in her belly, even before her mind had fully digested that thought. It could even be Lansat.
But it couldn't be him, could it? Junior Constable Lansat was one of the good guys. He'd tracked down the culprit by tracing and analyzing the calls to the insurance companies. He'd given Videl the blueprint to Tauro Brokers' offices. He'd clued her in to the building's security. He'd given her a hint where to find the paper trail in Tauro's room.
He'd asked her to put it in a capsule for safe delivery.
And now most of her capsules were stolen.
Videl's mind raced with all of the conversations they ever had about this mission, superimposed by the events that had transpired two nights ago. It halted on something that Old Sal had said just before Videl had left her little hut: there was a funny-looking bruise on her back. Possibly made by a knuckle guard.
Or... a ring.
"Gohan!" Videl gasped, and he jumped a little at her sudden intensity. "Can you do me a favour? Can you-"
She paused, unsure now how to proceed with her request. She hadn't been thinking clearly. Could she really ask Gohan to take a look at her bare back? She wasn't even wearing a bra tonight. That seemed a little forward, didn't it? She may be a practical and no-nonsense type of person, sometimes to the point of being a little impolite, but she never crossed the line into indecency.
"For sure, what is it?" Gohan said gently, perhaps sensing her hesitation.
"Uhm..." But this was not an indecent task. It's not like she was coercing him into feeling her up. She was not that kind of girl and never had been! This was about finding clues, gleaning information so she could solve a mystery, get true justice for those who were scammed during one of the most terrifying moments the Earth had experienced in the last seven years. Besides, this was Gohan she was talking to. He was no lech. He didn't even know if he liked girls with long hair or short. He was the last person in the world to view this favour through anything so much as a sensual lens.
"Can you look at my back?" Videl blurted before she could lose her resolve. "There's a bruise there, and I need to know what it looks like." Then she added, just to give him a choice. "But you don't have to if you're not comfortable."
Gohan's gaze trailed up and down her torso and a smattering of pink crept over his cheeks. Videl felt her own cheeks starting to warm, her request now feeling a little weightier than when she'd worded it. But Gohan nodded and said, "Sure, if it helps."
Videl turned away from him, and pulled the hem of her shirt up over her back, grimacing at the way the motion strained her bullet wound. She bit her lip, as the warm tips of Gohan's fingers roamed over a sensitive spot just below her left shoulder blade.
"Whoa, that's a big bruise," he whispered, and he must have edged closer to her body because she could feel his breath on her skin. "It's as big as half my palm. But, uh, there's a darker purple in the middle, kind of round. And... is that..." One of his hands pressed against her waist while the other's fingers flitted over the bruised area. "Strange, but I think I can see the outline of a leaf."
Videl's breath streamed from her lips, and her mind stilled, numbed. The next moment, only one thought managed to clamber through the thick nothingness and echoed in her head.
She'd been set up.
There was no benign interpretation to what had happened. It had been Lansat who'd accosted her on those stairs. He'd stolen her capsules, certain that one of the ones in her pocket would have been the container for the hard drive. This entire mission had probably never been about bringing justice to those who'd been scammed.
It was about clearing his name.
Lansat had been colluding with Mr. Tauro all along, getting remunerated for his part in the scam. How laughable that Videl had believed his whole shtick about analyzing voices so easily. He'd most likely been the one who'd masqueraded those voices in the first place.
But when Lansat didn't receive his portion of the last three insurance claims, he'd become upset and turned on Tauro. His plan for venegeance was probably to expose his ex-partner, but in order to do that, he needed to erase all evidence that could point to him as an accomplice. No wonder he was so desperate to get his hands on the hard drive.
Gooseflesh rose across her skin. Could she really believe that Junior Constable Lansat was capable of all that?
Then Videl felt feathery brushes lingering on her back, and suddenly the gooseflesh took on another meaning. Her position stormed back to her mind, and her skin heated. "Uhm, Gohan, is there anything else?"
"Ah, no, um, that's all!" He chuckled, and she felt his weight shift away from her on the couch.
Videl let go of her shirt, and peeked over her shoulder at Gohan. His cheeks were still red. "Sorry if I made things awkward," she said.
"Oh no, it's fine, it's more than fine. I mean, it's a normal amount of fine." He rubbed the back of his neck, glancing around at the living room.
Videl cleared her throat, eager to diffuse the discomfort. She shuffled the pages on her lap, and told Gohan her theory.
She didn't know if it was the shifting of the moonlight in the room, or some leftover haze brought on by exposing her back, but by the end of her explanation, Gohan was staring at her with a tender-eyed, half-smile expression. It was a look so unfamiliar to her, it took her mind much too long to find the word to describe it. He was staring at her like she was precious.
"What's wrong?" she asked, voice half stuck in her throat.
His smile stretched. "You figured all of that out from some initials and a bruise?" A laugh fell from his lips, but it wasn't mocking, wasn't amused. "Videl, that's incredible."
The ethereal atmosphere vanished, and she couldn't help but snort. "It's not. And I'm probably jumping to conclusions here."
"I could have never figured it out," he admitted.
"Which is only fair. You have to leave something for the rest of us. You are already brave and powerful and strong, with an intellect that could integrate to the nth dimension, and hands that can crush guns even while they help raise the most adorable seven-year-old buffoon I've ever had the luck to meet." A handsome face and sculpted body that rivalled stone gods in a museum. A generous heart so free of taint in spite of all the evil he'd witnessed, that even now he was able to ride that golden cloud. What would it be like to be so unjaded?
"Videl, I..." She glanced back at him, and to her horror, found that the look was back again, stronger this time. "That's the kindest thing anybody has ever said to me."
Her heart clenched. How was it possible to adore someone and be painfully envious of him at the same time? She wanted him. She wanted to be him. But being around him made her feel so small. These days it felt like it would be for the best if she could just put him up on his pedestal and admire him from afar. Maybe from that distance, she wouldn't always be reminded of falling short of the bar he'd set.
Whatever audacity Videl had had before when she'd demanded to be taught how to fly, when she'd strode up to Gohan's house unannounced, had fizzled away along with the certainty she'd had about the world and her place in it. Back then, flying had been just another shiny tool to be added to her toolbox, Gohan just another person to transact with. She had long learned that efficiency was the best way to deal with people. But Gohan and Goku and everyone else in their circle weren't people in the same way she and her father and Erasa and Sharpner were. They were... super beings. And she needed different rules.
"Is there anything I can do to help?" Gohan asked, because of course he would.
But this was good. It brought Videl's mind back to practical matters, things that she could actually do something about.
"Well, could you keep an eye on Lansat for the next day or so? Make sure he doesn't just disappear?"
"Sure, should be easy enough. What are you going to do?"
If her instincts were correct, Lansat had turned on Tauro, hoping to get away with his involvement. Perhaps she could get Tauro to return the favour and confirm her hunches once and for all. "I'll pay Mr. Tauro a visit first thing tomorrow morning."
"But they shot you!" Gohan protested.
"I was wearing a disguise. Look, I think I know a way to get a very welcome interview with Mr. Tauro. And if things go smoothly, he'll be turning himself in after our little chat."
"And if things don't?" His gaze was pinned to her shoulder, and Videl felt the gravity of her recklessness once again.
Maybe it was time for her to admit that this wasn't a job for her. That it was a job more suited for The Great Saiyaman. And if she took down her pride a notch and actually prioritized justice and safety for everybody, maybe she should give up her voluntary role in Herculopolis' force to Gohan. He was faster, stronger, smarter. Everything she could do, he could do better.
But it hurt to think of giving it all up. She loved what she did, even if she wasn't the best. She loved the gratitude and sense of well-being she could provide to the citizens of Herculopolis. But beyond that, she loved facing off criminals, not because of the violence, but because of the tactics, the machinations, the art. Loved toppling their dominoes, loved beating their kings with a single one of her pawns.
Couldn't she be selfish with the things she loved?
"I'd like a chance to try," Videl said. If things headed south again, she'd throw in the towel. But she believed she deserved one last opportunity. Lie to herself one last time. "What about this? If I need help, I'll pulse my chi three times to ask for your help."
To her relief, Gohan nodded determinedly. "I'll be there in a cinch."
She smiled. "Thank you."
It was one of the rare times that Videl used her surname to skip ahead of the line. Clad in a fresh loose blouse, designer denim shorts, and a jacket emblazoned with the brand name Z&Z, she strutted into Tauro Brokers five minutes before opening as if she hadn't wreaked havoc in the building three days earlier. She had called Mr. Tauro's personal assistant the night before, just after Gohan had left her in Pyropia, to schedule a special appointment indicating she would like to invest a portion of her father's money in a customized portfolio. She needed to play the part of a wealthy, financial-minded daughter, at least for the first few minutes of their meeting.
The two guards from her midnight escapade weren't guarding Mr. Tauro's office, but two other equally decorative guards stood in their place. Decorations Three and Four, she named them, as they opened the wooden doors and waved her in.
"Ah, Ms. Satan, what an honour to meet you." Mr. Tauro stepped from behind his desk and stretched out a hand in greeting. He towered over Videl, which was just as well, as both his horns protruded forward from his head before angling up to point to the ceiling.
Videl took the proffered hand, a human one but covered in grey-blue fur. "The pleasure is mine, Mr. Tauro. I'm very grateful you could squeeze me in your schedule in such a short notice."
"Not at all!" The bovine boomed, his golden septum ring glinting in the sunshine from the glass walls. "Twenty-four million zennis deserve a priority. Here at Tauro Brokers, we know how to manage both time and money well, as you will see."
"I don't doubt I will." Videl sat down on the plush seat across the large table.
"Now, you were inquiring about a custom portfolio?" With deft hands, Mr. Tauro laid out several folders in front of Videl, each one marked with a different description. "Gold and silver, of course, is a popular one due to their stability. Energy and technology, on the other hand, yield high returns. If you can handle a bit of risk, I highly suggest investing a significant allocation here. We also have vetted Green Companies, if your father has a mind for sustainability." He listed the others one by one, explaining in a nutshell their growth opportunities.
"These are all good," Videl began. "Though I might need a bit of time to look through each of these more closely. In the meantime, I also have an opportunity for you."
"Oh?" Mr. Tauro said, lips quirking. His mind was probably rolling in zenni signs.
Videl pulled up her handbag to her lap. It was a fancy bag that one of her father's dates had left behind in their house after Videl had influenced her into quickly leaving early. The only reason she hadn't had a younger sibling by this point was that she was better at selling the door to their driveway than her father was at selling the door to his bedroom.
From the sleek leather bag, she pulled out the hard drive. "I came by this. I heard you were looking for it." She placed it on top of the folders, but did not ease her palm from it.
Videl didn't miss the momentary flash of panic in Mr. Tauro's gaze, but it transformed quickly into relief.
"Incredible! You managed to find my stolen hard drive!" He reached for the hard drive, but Videl clamped it tighter.
"I'm afraid you misunderstand me. I'm not here to return this. I'm here to offer you clemency."
"Clemency?" Mr. Tauro's brows lowered, drawing closer together. His eyes took on a guarded look. Not the expression someone who had nothing to hide would make. They were on the same page now. He knew that she knew.
"I'm sure you're aware that I'm affiliated with the Herculopolis police force," Videl continued. "Unfortunately several of your victims are from my city, and we don't take kindly to fraudsters."
Mr. Tauro regarded her with growing understanding and deepening disdain. "Oh I see. You didn't just 'come by' this hard drive. You were the thief who stole it from my office three nights ago, weren't you?" He snorted. "Well, if it isn't the height of hypocrisy. What makes it all right for you to steal, little Missy?"
It wasn't the first time Videl had been confronted with the ironies of her position. Old ladies had reprimanded her on the street the first time she'd hauled in armed robbers, wagging their fingers at her violent kicks and punches that had disarmed the criminals. And Gohan wasn't even the first one she'd blackmailed; that tactic was surprisingly effective among white-collar troublemakers.
"I'm confident you can figure that out yourself, Mr. Tauro." She waved a hand dismissively. He was trying to sidetrack her. "But this isn't about me. It's about you. And the friend who helped you."
"He's not my friend!" Mr. Tauro spat, nostrils flaring. "He's a greedy little punk who tried to extort from me when my generosity was not enough for him."
"Good, then this will be easy for you. Tell us about your accomplice, and I'll see to it that you'll have a reduced sentence."
Mr. Tauro leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, putting on a smug smile. Criminals had a penchant for doing that when they wanted to save face, which meant Videl was edging closer to her goal.
"You might get a little sad if I tell you, and I hate making little girls cry," Mr. Tauro said. "The truth is that my ex-partner is part of the Herculopolis force. He's been pulling the wool over your eyes all along. Lansat Xen." He dropped the names like they were two heavy pebbles sinking into a still pool, his eyes trained on her face to watch the ripples they made.
Videl didn't give anything away. Her hunch had been strong enough that the confirmation did little to surprise her. "Thank you," she said, pulling out a pair of steel cuffs from her bag. "Now if you come quietly without any trouble, I'll be certain to relate your cooperation with the officer who will be handling your case."
Mr. Tauro didn't move from his chair. The subtle stiffening of his shoulders and his smile hinted that he might not be willing to continue being cooperative. Videl tapped into her chi, not quite gathering it, but making sure she could easily perform three successive bursts if she needed to. She didn't think she did, not yet. She was sure she was stronger than Tauro, but hey, she'd been sure she could dodge bullets shot by someone with closed eyes and look at how that one had turned out.
"Ms. Satan, your father and I aren't very different." He stared out of the glass windows, his eyes taking on a distant gaze. "He and I both built ourselves up from nothing."
His comparison was just a tad more apt than he probably thought; both he and Videl's father were also fraudsters.
"Did you know I never got past the sixth grade?" Mr. Tauro continued. "We were so poor, my parents had to sell our farm just to get me an apprenticeship with a bookkeeper. But I worked hard at that job. Learned how to do numbers in my head faster than anybody else, memorized the formulas, the taxes, the laws. The other apprentices laughed at the holes in my clothes, but when my knack for numbers started delivering returns in betting places and investments, they stopped laughing. What I'm getting at is this."
From a drawer in his desk, Mr. Tauro pulled out a sturdy, metal box and placed it in front of Videl, close enough to the hand that was keeping guard of the hard drive. He popped the lid open, and she barely suppressed the frown of incredulity when she saw what was inside: a detonator.
"My company is everything I have. Without it, I'd be nothing, and I would never be nothing ever again. Do you understand?"
Videl choked out her words. "What, you're going to blow the two of us up?"
"Oh, don't be silly. This will blow the entire building up."
Her heart began to race, but she willed herself to breathe. He was likely bluffing. "And Lansat? You're going to let him get away with his share of the money but none of the blame?"
"Nah, Lansat has something else coming for him. You really think I'd prepare this desperate measure but leave Lansat to be my blind spot? I've sent our correspondence to a private journalist who, should anything happen to me, would reveal not only his part in my operation, but all his other side hustles as well. Trust me, he isn't going to get away."
"I'm impressed. Looks like you've thought things through. At least, on this side of life." Videl infused her voice with a coolness that she didn't quite feel. But she had one more line of persuasion to pursue, and if that still didn't work, then it would be truly time for action.
Mr. Tauro's frown deepened. "What do you mean?"
"It wasn't that long ago when we all died. Didn't you..." Videl made a pointing gesture down to the floor.
"I was stuck in line."
"Ah, I see that one of us spent our time in the Other World a lot more productively than the other." She stuffed the hard drive back into her bag, then leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms, mimicking his nonchalant posture. "Let me enlighten you then. While I was waiting around, bored out of my mind," although she'd actually been just two steps away from having a nervous breakdown, "I snuck back to the sorting area and asked if I could browse through the records. King Yemma let me. Said my last name gave me a pass in knowing what's down there.
"Here's what's relevant for you. Planet Hantung at coordinates 17440XY: there was a creature of species Tarsin who went around collecting his fellow inhabitants' gold reserve while a warrior from their neighbouring planet was busy annihilating said fellow inhabitants. You know what happened when this Tarsin died? King Yemma sent him to an area in the far reaches of hell called the Bloody Pond.
"In Planet Wyng at coordinates 32332XY, a pilot named Sid went hopping through the floating islands to steal the remaining live plants for food as the islands rose higher to the sun. He stole them right from under the nose of helpless, starving Wyngen. When he died in a flying accident, King Yemma sent Sid to the Bloody Pond.
"The thing, Mr. Tauro, is that if you die now, you won't be tried for fraud. King Yemma would try you for exploiting a planetary catastrophe to line your pockets, which is a much more severe crime. And just like that Tarsin and that Wyngen who took advantage of disasters in their home planets like you did, you too will be sent to the Bloody Pond. So," Videl uncrossed her arms and shook the shackles. "Going back to being nothing isn't even one of your options. Your options are jail time with clemency and a chance to redeem yourself in the future, or an eternity in the dense, sticky depths of hell. Your choice."
Videl could tell that she'd struck a nerve by the way Mr. Tauro's smile had evaporated during her explanation. Veins in his neck were visible with the tension in his jaw. He stared her down as if King Yemma's verdicts would suddenly change or disappear if he managed to strike enough fear in her. But Videl hadn't lied. She'd read all those in King Yemma's records and more.
Two minutes of pressure-cooker silence went by. She had nothing more to say, and the next move was all Tauro's.
"Fine," he spat out. "I'll come."
He stood and rounded the side of his large wooden desk. The only indication of his feint was one last side glance at the detonator, but that was all Videl needed. Tauro's hand shot out to smash the button at the same time Videl hauled herself from her chair and kicked the metal box with just enough force that it slid to the edge of the table, out of reach of Tauro's hand.
He lowered his head, horns aiming for her, but she wove through them and delivered a hefty punch to his gut. She followed it through with a kick that sent him to his knees. His agonized grunt was loud enough that Decorations Three and Four opened the doors to check out what was happening.
"Hey, hold it right there!" one of them said, though she wasn't sure if it was Three or Four. She ignored him. While Tauro was yet doubled over, she snatched the metal box of the detonator from the other end of the table, shut it close, and tossed it into her bag. "A thief!"
"Wrong person," Videl said, making a show of her handcuffs and pulling Tauro's hands behind his back. Technically they would have been right if they'd caught her two nights ago. In hindsight, she felt a little ill that she'd unknowingly helped Lansat with his scheme. She'd almost been an accomplice too. But that ended here and now.
Decorations Three and Four hesitated by the doorway as she manhandled Tauro, securing his wrists. The humanoid bull was swinging his head to and fro, sending furniture and gadgets and decorations flying with his long horns. But Videl was behind him, safely out of reach of his sharp appendages.
"Don't just stand there! Get more security," she demanded as the cuffs clicked shut. "And call the police. I'm making an arrest."
Videl peered through the bars of the dimly lit cell. Back from Coriander City, she'd found that her report to the Herculopolis force had been well received and action had been swiftly taken. Sitting on the cot inside the cell, Lansat held his head in his hands, brown hair flopping over his fingers. She would have felt sorry for him. He was young and talented, but his betrayal stung too sharply.
"We are scratching out the Junior in your name tag," Videl said. Lansat startled, glancing up at her. "The Constable too."
"Look, Videl-"
"Save it for your lawyer."
Videl stepped away, shaking her head. What a promising young man, and he'd thrown everything away.
She passed the gates of the wing that held the cells in the police station and rounded the hallway to the offices. A large room housed most of the constables and inspectors, each with their own little cubicle and phone line. Busybodies tapped away at computers, mumbled into phones, scratched pens on freshly printed paper, filed evidence with gloved hands, questioned visitors. At the farthest end of the room was a glassed-off section where Chiefs Squamos and Kasava worked. It was empty.
Chief Kasava had a day off, but Videl had spotted Chief Squamos when she'd come in. She was hoping to have a word with him, get some reassurance that she was now in good standing. Perhaps solving this latest case would improve his opinion of her.
Down the hallway, Videl noticed the portly form of Chief Squamos accompanying a stooped old lady to the entrance of the station. She hopped away from the offices and followed Chief Squamos, waiting a few steps away as he finished his conversation with the woman and waved her farewell.
"Hello, Chief!" Videl chirped when he spun around.
"Videl, great running into you before you go!" He smiled. Most criminals they took in had made the mistake of thinking Chief Squamos was lenient because of his round, fatherly facade. But he was one of the most sharp-minded people Videl knew, and his strategic approaches to apprehending culprits had inspired Videl to incorporate more holistic techniques to her fighting more than once. He'd been more influential to her self-training than her own father. And that was why his opinion mattered so much.
"I didn't get a chance earlier to thank you fully for your work on Tauro's case," Chief Squamos said. "You know how busy we've been since... well, since the Earth blew up and miraculously reformed, that we just haven't been as organized as we should be. Maybe if we were, we'd have caught more red flags around Lansat Xen."
"Thank you, Chief. And Lansat was stealthy, that's for sure. It's people like him who keep us on our toes." Videl took a breath, and chose her words carefully. "If there are any other cases like this one, or even if it's not like this one, but you'd still like a hand in solving it, feel free to send them my way. I'd love to help. I've always loved helping."
She didn't like the sad smile that Chief Squamos gave her. Her heart beat so hard she heard it in her ears.
"I worry about you, Videl," Chief Squamos said. "You're barely seventeen. You haven't even finished high school yet. And you're running around beating bad guys and outsmarting crooks. Have you ever thought about getting a milder hobby?"
He was trying to sugarcoat her dismissal, Videl could sense it. "No, sir. Like I said, I love helping the force. This is where I can put my fighting skills to good use." She gulped, knowing she needed to address the elephant in the room. "If this is about the tournament, my opponent was not... not natural. But most of the culprits we deal with are, and I'm confident I'm strong enough and skilled enough to handle them."
"The tournament?" Chief Squamos frowned. "I'm afraid I haven't kept up with news about the tournament. I realize martial arts is entertaining to watch for many people, but it's just not my thing. You know, sort of like how some computer programmers don't own any smart appliances. Work-life balance and all that."
"Uh, wait. But I thought you and Chief Kasava were disappointed in my match."
"Where did you hear that?"
From Lansat. The person who'd lied to them and set her up in Tauro's building. Videl blinked. "Hold on, you weren't thinking of replacing me with the Great Saiyaman?"
Chief Squamos was taking a sip of his coffee and choked. He wiped his mouth before saying, "Goodness gracious, what kind of rumours are you listening to, child?" He scratched his beard. "Look, I didn't say I'm worried because we don't think you're good enough to protect us. I said I'm worried about you, because I truly am. Because you're earnest and clever, and I want you to be healthy and happy before you die your second death. You're like family to us here, Videl. The Great Saiyaman is powerful, but we'll have to be bonkers to replace you with someone who won't even tell us his real name."
"Oh." That was all Videl could muster. Her chest was roiling with emotions too many to identify one by one.
"Get some rest, okay?" Chief Squamos winked at her and turned around to go back to his office.
Videl's gaze followed his retreating form. When at last she felt calmer, she turned to the entrance to leave.
And found Gohan standing right behind her, eyes also trained on the direction Chief Squamos took down the hallway.
"Gohan!" she exclaimed. "I thought you said you'd wait outside." How much did he hear?
Gohan's brows were drawn in concern. "Yeah, I was a bit hot so I came in," he replied absentmindedly. Then he shook his head, his eyes finding hers. "Did you say you thought the Great Saiyaman would-"
"No! I mean, it was all a misunderstanding. It's nothing!" She pushed past him, allowing the warm fresh air outside to blow away the redness on her cheeks. He was never supposed to know about her potential replacement. Or at least that she'd thought she was getting replaced. Damn that Lansat. Was there an honest bone in his body? Why had she been so gullible? Now Gohan would think she was reckless and a loser.
"Videl, are you okay?" Gohan followed her outside.
"Yes. Everything's fine."
He didn't look like he quite believed her, but he said, "Want to go to the library? We can do homework together."
She thought of all the lessons she'd missed, of the worksheets that remained unanswered, of how much ahead Gohan must be, and a massive lethargy deflated all energy from her limbs. Perhaps she should take Chief Squamos' advice. "Actually, I think I'll go home and rest a bit. The last three days have been very long."
"Oh, of course. You're right." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, then. I guess I'll see you tomorrow."
"Yes, I'll see you tomorrow. Thanks for your help, Gohan."
"I don't think I did much, but you're very welcome."
Videl cut the awkward farewell short and started down the street towards her home. The afternoon sunlight set the windows of the nearby buildings and houses ablaze with an orange glow. She usually loved this time of the day, but she found she had no energy to appreciate it now. She was so, so tired.
And alone.
Small groups of students clustered on the sidewalks and streets, walking home from school. Videl couldn't remember the last time she felt like she belonged in a group. Any group. Chief Squamos had said she was like family to them, and yet she'd believed so readily that they didn't need her. Why?
A soft gasp caught her attention, and she found two girls, around twelve or thirteen, walking in the opposite direction from her. Their eyes were on her and shy smiles played on their lips. "It's Videl!" "She's so pretty with her hair short." "Go say hi. Don't you have a poster of her in your locker?" "Oh shut up! Now she'll think I'm a loser."
They passed by swiftly, even before Videl herself could say hello to them. She felt the opportunity slip from her fingers as if some obscure hand of fate had grabbed her, making sure she didn't crawl out of the glass box it stored her in. It didn't matter, she supposed. She already knew the outcome of that. People made assumptions about her that even her best performed niceties couldn't penetrate, and most of the time, it was less disappointing to not even try.
When her father shot to his ill-gotten fame, Videl had been afraid that she would make many false friends. That it would be difficult for her to figure out who was true and who was using her for her family's money and popularity. But it hadn't actually been difficult. Because she hadn't made many friends at all. The hordes of people who'd been fascinated by her rarely ever pierced through that layer of intimacy. They'd always held her at arms-length, a shiny toy to be entertained by for a few minutes and, upon deciding there was nothing more they could possibly have in common, to be left on the shelf as they went on with their lives. They didn't think she was a person just like them.
Videl's steps slowed as that thought brought up a memory, another thought she'd had that echoed those same words. She remembered last night, sitting on the couch with Gohan, wrestling with longing and self-pity. She realized she was treating Gohan the way other people had treated her. The kind of treatment that had left her walled off for years, always seen but never listened to, never felt.
No, she didn't need new rules for interacting with Gohan and his friends. She needed new rules for herself. She couldn't keep behaving this way.
She spun around and jogged back past the police station, and curved around an intersection towards the library. The wound on her shoulder whined with pain, but she ignored it.
Up ahead, Gohan's tall figure emerged, walking by a row of quiet, pretty townhouses. Distant shouts from playing children ricocheted off of the residential roads, but aside from a passerby or two and the occasional car, there wasn't anyone else around.
"Gohan!" she called. He turned around, eyes wide with mild surprise. She approached him, not quite sure how to proceed. She didn't really have any speech planned out. "I... ah, I forgot to tell you. I read that book you recommended. The King's Thief? I really enjoyed it."
A brilliant smile appeared on his face and giddy excitement exuded from him. "Really, you did? None of my other friends have read my favourite book!"
"Well, 'full of plot twists that kept me up all night' is a difficult praise to ignore," she replied. "If you have other recommendations, let me know."
"Are you coming to the library with me now?"
"Yes," she capitulated, and they walked side by side. "I changed my mind. And I've also been thinking about what you said last night. We don't call Old Sal 'old' for nothing, so maybe I do need to expand my network of surgeons. You know one in Mountain Area, by any chance?"
"There are a few good ones. But to be honest, if it's just scrapes and minor injuries you're looking to get treated, Mom's pretty much an expert in those by now." He glanced down at her, then scratched the back of his neck. She'd come to know that gesture as a mark of shyness. "Or, you know, I could also do it."
Videl had to bite her lip to hide her smile. "All right, but you said it. If I come unannounced, hopefully this time it won't be an imposition."
She felt his sigh more than heard it. "I admit, when you came over before the tournament, I was anxious and wary. You know now the secret that my family hides, and the world isn't exactly friendly to things they don't understand. But you didn't run away screaming into the hills when you learned what I was. You even plunged into that whole fiasco with Buu just because it was the right thing to do. I see now that I didn't give you enough credit at first, and I'm sorry about that."
An apology wasn't what Videl was expecting at all, and a part of her felt as if he'd tipped the scale once again, offering something that she didn't deserve. But another part of her unwound with his words, softening and brightening at being validated. "Thank you. And I'm sorry too for being harsh and blackmailing you."
Gohan barked out a laugh that sent a few sparrows fleeing from the nearby trees. "Oh that? Videl, one of my closest friends kidnapped me when I was four. One of my other friends hooked up with someone who tried to kill me, my father, and everyone else on Earth. Oh, make that two friends."
"I see, I see, I guess I'm just another name in the long list of poor friends you keep, Gohan," she teased. "Do I rank higher because my father also stole the credit for defeating Cell, or is he a different name on the list? I'd hate to be nepotistic."
Gohan snorted, but his smile didn't vanish. "I don't care about fame. And there are things - a lot of things - about the Cell Games I don't like to remember. I like the quiet life we have in the mountains. In fact, your father helped deflect any curiosity that would have made things difficult for us."
"It doesn't bother you that he's a fraud and a cheat?"
"Does it bother you?"
Videl's feelings about her father were still too complex to articulate, so she just shrugged.
"You have a right to be upset if there are things your father does that you don't like," Gohan said. "But I think about him this way. Your father may not be the hero he pretends to be, but he is the hero that Earth needs. There are a lot of blood-thirsty and power-hungry beings out there in the universe, and a powerful warrior tends to attract them. That's way Dad stayed so long in the Other World and refused to be brought back to life."
"So, you're saying my father is like a figurehead. Like, a jester that pretends to be a king so that other kings don't feel threatened. Hm, where have I read that plot before?" She narrowed her eyes playfully, knowing Gohan would understand her reference to the book he'd recommended to her.
He chuckled, then grew quiet. The large dome of the library loomed up ahead. Several youths lounged by the fountain near the entrance of the building. When Gohan spoke again, he seemed more subdued.
"Videl, are we... okay?" he asked. "It's just, these past few days... I don't know. Sometimes you'll say things or do things that would make me feel real nice, like everything that ever happened to me, everything that I've been through, was worth it." A pang bloomed in her chest at those words. "And then there are times when you... prefer to keep distant. I don't want to step on your toes, so..."
"No, Gohan, I'm sorry for that. I didn't mean to be so confusing." She crossed her arms and lowered her voice, now that there were more people about. "The thing is, I'm confused too. There are so many things I learned recently, and they really made me wonder about myself, about other people."
"About me?"
"You, your family, your friends."
"Do you feel scared?" Gohan sounded so sad.
"No! Not scared. Just..." He was being so honest, she figured she owed him her honesty too. "Irrelevant."
Gohan gawked at her like she'd grown two heads and perhaps two extra pairs of arms. Then his brows drew down. She hadn't seen him that upset since he'd addressed Spovovich after their match. "My friends didn't say anything mean to you, did they? I know Vegeta tends to go on and on about how Earthlings are weak-"
"No, everybody was quite nice, actually."
"Oh." He sighed again. "You have to be careful not to idolize them - us - too much. I know how it feels, because I used to do it too. Look, one of the strongest men on Earth most likely spent the last three days reading dirty magazines. One is probably sitting cross-legged meditating in the lookout, and more than a handful have kept busy entertaining themselves in their own ways. But today, dozens of families who were on the verge of losing their life savings can rest easy because someone found out who had scammed them. Which one of my friends did that?"
"Gohan, I..." She had never thought of things that way. She'd just assumed that they were always performing miracles everyday.
"Just because we're strong, it's not like we think everyone else don't matter. You probably don't think that way, and you're stronger than most." He gestured around them. "If this were all irrelevant to us, we wouldn't try very hard to save it every time someone threatens to destroy it, right? To be honest, there are many humans that put us to shame." He let out an awkward laugh, and once again there was that same look from last night, the look that made Videl hope for impossible things.
There were still so much that she needed to untangle in her mind, but for the first time in a long time, a comfortable peace spread through her. A pressure had eased, one she hadn't realized had been with her. Tentatively, she reached out a hand, half-expecting something - fate, space, awkwardness, timing - to interrupt her like they had always done every time she'd tried to make a connection.
But, this time, nothing stopped her hand from slipping into his.
AN: I always felt like Videl's savviness was completely overlooked after the Saiyaman saga. She had this wiliness to her that I don't think anyone else in the Z gang really had, and I felt disappointed that it was never showcased more. I wanted to write a fic where she could be awesome and vulnerable at the same time, and I hope this achieved that.
I don't know how likely it is for King Yemma to allow someone to go through his records, but when I first thought about it, I found it hilarious. I think it's just the thing Videl would do, and she'd absolutely go back to her life using this information to her advantage.
"No one has touched me so before, as if I were precious." This banger of a line is from Intisar Khanani's Thorn, and it punched me in the gut. I've been imagining some variation or another for pretty much all of my OTPs. I'm so glad I had the opportunity to include something similar for this fic. By the way, if you're a fan of YA Fantasy, please check out Intisar Khanani's books. I love them!
Also, The King's Thief alludes to another one of my favourite fantasy series, The Queen's Thief by Megan Whalen Turner. In fact, The King of Attolia is my favourite book of all time, so if y'all want more book recs, pick this series up as well!