Dragon Ball SS: Chapter 19

Chapter 19

 

Gohan shielded his eyes against the afternoon sun as he looked up to take stock of the time. The low angle of the sun told him that afternoon was quickly becoming evening, and he stood quickly to brush himself off. It took him only moments to get dressed and head back toward his house.

 

The house was quiet when he opened the door. He glanced around quickly. “Videl! I'm home!” he called. Hearing no reply, he headed to their bedroom. As he stepped into the room, he saw Videl kneeling in the closet, sorting through a box on the floor. “Videl?” he asked.

 

Videl sat up suddenly. “Oh, Gohan!” she said. “I didn't hear you come in. Are you feeling better?” She turned her attention back to the box in front of her.

 

“A bit,” Gohan replied. “I found an isolated lake where I spent the day today.” He hesitated; he wasn't sure if telling her about Piccolo was a good idea or not. However, he felt badly about keeping the information from her. “Piccolo stopped to talk to me today,” he began.

 

Videl froze. “Piccolo?” she asked.

 

Gohan nodded. “He...wants to help figure out what's wrong with me,” he said. “And he did help a bit – it was because of him that I remembered how I'm different than the other Saiyans here. Rou Kaioshin altered my Saiyan abilities, and he didn't do it to anyone else.”

 

Videl looked at the floor. “And that has some effect on your condition?” she asked quietly.

 

“Possibly,” Gohan said. “It may, at least, help explain why I'm struggling with it so much more than the others.” He crouched down beside her and kissed her gently on the forehead. “Piccolo went to the Lookout to see if there is anything in Kami's Palace that will shed more light on it,” he said. “I'm sure there will be a solution soon.”

 

Videl sighed. “I hope so,” she said. She leaned her head against his shoulder. “In some ways...I want to help; but, when I remember how hard it was when I was pregnant with Pan...” She let her thought trail off.

 

Gohan wrapped his arms around her. “I know,” he said. “And I understand that you don't want to go through that again. I'm certain there must be some other way around this.” He smiled softly at her. “Now, what is it you're looking for? I have some time before work; I may be able to help you find it.”

 

Videl smiled gently in return and kissed his shoulder before looking back at the box again. “Daddy called today and said that a documentary is being made about the Tenkaichi Budokai. He had been working on some new promotions for the next one anyway, with it being the 33rd Budokai and all, so they asked if he might be able to put together a display of memorabilia, even costumes from previous participants, for them to photograph. He wanted to know if we have the Great Saiyaman costume around anymore.”

 

Gohan chuckled. “That old thing?” he asked. “Here, I think I know where it is.” He reached around her to a shoe box in the back corner of the closet. “I didn't want to risk it getting mixed up with my regular watches,” he said. “I put it in here with some of my old awards from high school.” He opened the shoe box and drew out a men's digital watch.

 

“Does it even fit you anymore?” Videl asked.

 

“One way to find out,” Gohan said. He quickly stood up and put the watch on his wrist. He pressed the red button on the side, and a charge of energy ran over his clothes. The Great Saiyaman costume appeared in place of them. Gohan turned and looked in the bedroom mirror in surprise. “Wow, it fits like the day it was new!” he exclaimed. “It must resize itself automatically...Bulma really is a genius.”

 

Videl stood up and smiled. “It looks just as good, too,” she said. “It's almost too bad we retired the Great Saiyaman and Great Saiyaman II.”

 

“Ha ha! Wouldn't that be something – the college professor who's secretly a super hero.” Gohan looked at his reflection a moment longer, then shrugged and took off his scarf. He set it on the bed and tossed the sunglasses down on top of it. The rest of the costume quickly joined them. “I'll keep the watch here, just to be on the safe side, but your dad can go ahead and display the costume on a mannequin if he wants,” Gohan said.

 

Videl quickly folded the costume and stacked it on a table near the bed. “Thanks, Gohan,” she said. “I'm sure he'll appreciate it – he's really pulling out all the stops to try to revive interest in the Budokai.”

 

Gohan gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before he turning toward the master bathroom. “No problem,” he said. “I'm going to grab a cold shower before work. Let me know if you need anything else.”

 

He closed the bathroom door behind him as he entered and moved quickly to turn on the shower. He turned to grab a wash cloth from the shelf and caught his reflection in the medicine cabinet mirror. “Great Saiyaman, huh?” he asked himself. “Those were the days. To think, back then I was hiding my power just so that I'd appear to be a normal teenager.” He turned back to the shower and stepped inside it. “But, if that recording they found on Vegeta's scouter says anything about it, I'm not even a normal Saiyan,” he thought.

 

He leaned against the wall of the shower and wrapped his arms around himself. “I need to not worry about this for a while,” he told himself. “I need to just get through work tonight so that I can get some sleep and start on it fresh tomorrow.” He tilted his face up and closed his eyes against the chilly spray from the shower head.

 

Suddenly, a knock on the door and Videl's voice sounded through the cascade of water. “Gohan?” she called. “Are you okay? You've been in there a while.”

 

“Hmm? A while?” Gohan thought. He opened his eyes and turned off the water, then stepped out of the shower.

 

Videl opened the door and peeked inside. “Gohan?” she asked.

 

Gohan grabbed a towel and quickly dried himself off. “Yeah, I'm okay,” he said.

 

Videl breathed a sigh of relief. “You'd been in there for twenty minutes,” she told him. “I was hoping you hadn't fallen asleep; I wouldn't want you to be late for work.”

 

“Twenty minutes?” Gohan echoed in disbelief. “I must have really zoned out; I could have sworn I was only in there a minute or two.”

 

Videl's brow furrowed in concern. “Are you sure you want to go to work tonight?” she asked. “I know it'd be short notice, but you could call in sick.”

 

Gohan shook his head. “I'm sure I'll be fine once I have something else to focus my attention on,” he said. “I don't know how long this will go on for, and I don't want to miss more work than necessary.” He opened the door further and moved past her into the bedroom.

 

Videl sat down on the edge of the bed and watched him as he got dressed. “I'm just worried about you, Gohan,” she said. “There haven't been many times that I've had to be concerned about the fact that you're half-Saiyan, but those times that I have...I just don't want something really bad to come of this.”

 

Gohan straightened his tie and walked over to stand in front of her. He reached down and took her hands in his, then he guided her to her feet and pulled her against him. “After all that's happened in my life, I know better than to promise you that nothing bad will ever happen again; but, I don't think this is going to be as bad as some things have been. There are no super-powered monsters or galactic conquerers to defeat now. The world has been at peace for a long time.”

 

Videl wrapped her arms around his waist and held him close for a moment without responding. “I hope you're right,” she said finally.

 

Gohan kissed the top of her head. “I do too,” he said. He stepped back slightly and held her away from him to look into her eyes. “I need to get going to work; I'll call you during my break to let you know how things are going.”

 

Videl nodded. “Have a good night,” she said. She kissed him lightly on the lips, then stepped back and watched him leave for work.

 

Vegeta frowned as he listened to the static-filled recording play back for the third time. He ground his teeth as the familiar voice spoke from the computer. “Your name is Tullece; you are a warrior of the Saiyan race, the most powerful race in the universe. You are third class by birth and parentage. Your mother lies in the birthing chamber and cannot attend to you; your father is away on a mission. As your father's confidant, I am recording this and sending you to your fate – gods be willing that it is a better one than would await you here. May your inborn memories of your people and the guidance of fate allow you a successful life until such time as you meet your family again.”

 

Tullece looked quizzically at Vegeta's expression as he listened to the recording. He didn't understand the frustration; the recording was certainly vague and cryptic, but since he'd been sent to a pirate haven, he assumed it was to keep them from discovering his purpose until it was too late. He'd had virtually no problem conquering the planet as a child.

 

“Vegeta-sama?” Tullece asked. “Is there a problem?”

 

Vegeta unclenched his jaw briefly to respond. “Do you have any idea who's voice this is?” he demanded.

 

Tullece shook his head. “There was no information about the speaker other than what you just heard there,” he said. “Nor do I know who my parents were; I only have the vaguest sense of what they were like. The memories of my birth were muddled; I only saw my mother briefly. I have had dreams of parents and brothers I never met – but like everything I know of Planet Vegeta, they are obscured by the fog of time.”

 

“It makes sense,” Vegeta muttered, almost to himself. “Our residual memories usually do not include the memory of sound.” He turned his full attention back to Tullece. “The voice on that recording is my father's voice – my father, the King of Vegeta!” He balled his hands into fists. “This makes no sense – why would he have anything to do with a third-class family? Why would he give special attention to a third-class child?”

 

He slammed his fist against the wall in frustration. He understood that he'd only been a child when Freeza had taken him from his father, but he thought he'd known what his father was like by then; he'd spent all of his time until that point with him. The very notion that a third-class warrior had his father as a confidant was preposterous. However, he had no idea why his father would lie, anonymously or otherwise, on a computer in an infant's space pod.

 

Tullece's mind was also reeling with dozens of unspoken questions. Foremost among them was the question of who he really was – was he truly just the son of a third-class warrior, if his father had been that close to the king?

 

Vegeta scowled as the recording continued to play. “I will get to the bottom of this,” he seethed.