Dragon Ball SS: Chapter 20

Chapter 20

 

Piccolo bared his fangs at the unseen wall preventing him from moving deeper into the Lookout. He knew that Kami-sama had encountered resistance before, in the form of attack by a handful of the prior Kami-sama, but this shield was new – or at least, he'd never discovered it before. He glanced over his shoulder at the sound of Dende's approach.

 

“I have never been able to reach that part of the Lookout, either,” Dende said in response to the angry look on Piccolo's face. “I do not know what lies beyond it.”

 

Piccolo turned away from the barrier and eyed the young god for a moment. “It matters not,” he said. “I will find another way to obtain the answers I seek.”

 

Dende followed him back out into the daylight. “Even if Gohan's situation has been caused by Rou Kaioshin, is it good for us to interfere?” he asked. “Should Kami-sama take such a direct role in the fate of those in the mortal world?”

 

Piccolo did not look at the younger Namekian as he spoke. “Do whatever you feel you must as Kami-sama,” he said. “I am no longer burdened with that responsibility – I am as mortal as the next.”

 

“I'm just wondering if this is further than others could or would go -” Dende began.

 

“I've given up my life for that boy!” Piccolo roared. “I will go as far as I must to see him well again!”

 

Dende sighed and looked out over the expanse of clouds below the Lookout. “Are you sure there isn't another reason you're so dedicated to this?” he asked gently.

 

Piccolo stiffened suddenly. A sharp twinge in his chest reminded him that Dende was correct, and that the youthful god was quickly becoming as perceptive as Kami-sama should be. He pushed it down once again; now was not the time to be dealing with it. He knew he would have to decide, and soon, what to do about it, but his priority now had to be on Gohan. He faced Dende squarely as he spoke. “And what other reason do you think there would be?” he demanded.

 

Dende looked up at him hesitantly. “I...know what happened,” he began, “between you and Gohan.” He paused, uncertain how to word his concerns. “I don't think that Gohan knows what it means for a Namekian to-”

 

Piccolo cut him off sharply. “And I intend to keep it that way!” He turned away from Dende once again. “Gohan's life is difficult enough because of this. Useless information like that will only cause him needless worry.”

 

“Are you sure that's a good idea?” Dende asked. “Gohan seems like the type who would want to know, even if you decide-”

 

Piccolo cut him off again. “I said, it doesn't matter!” he shouted. “Mind your own business, and leave me to mine!”

 

Dende sighed and looked at the tiled ground of the Lookout. “As you wish,” he said. “I wish you the best, Piccolo. I know this is not easy on anyone involved.”

 

Piccolo snorted and stepped up to the edge of the Lookout. “Save your energy for helping Gohan,” he said. “He's the one who needs it.” Before Dende could reply, he launched himself into the sky and soared away from the Lookout.

 

 

Gohan took a deep breath and adjusted the lapels of his jacket as he stepped up to the glass doors of the University. The doors automatically slid open, and he walked quickly inside. He waved to the secretary at the front desk, who was talking animatedly into a phone, and made his way to his classroom.

 

The room was filled with chatter when he walked in. Gohan was unsurprised – it was fairly typical of his students to be outgoing. What was unusual was the topic of their conversation. Gohan was sure he heard the word “Saiyan” floating around the room in several places, and as he glanced to the side he saw a tabloid-style paper changing hands. “Wonderful,” he thought. “I can't even get away from it here.”

 

He cleared his throat and called out above the noise. “All right, all right! Please settle into your seats and get ready for class.”

 

Gohan was pleased to see the tabloid and other miscellaneous items disappear into backpacks. They were quickly replaced with notebooks and ink pens. This was one thing he prided himself on – his students were diligent workers with a strong desire to learn.

 

He quickly stepped behind his desk and flipped open the planner. He was relieved to see that he had scheduled a simple lecture for that evening; the least physical exertion he had to put out, the better. He could already feel his temperature starting to creep upward again, and he glanced toward the window at the back of the room. "Miss Calloway," he called, "would you mind opening the window? It's a bit too warm in here; I'll have to speak with someone during break about the air conditioning."

 

The young woman looked up in surprise and exchanged a quick glance with those sitting near her; the others' looks reflected surprise as well. None of them seemed to have noticed anything amiss with the temperature in the room. Still, she quickly stood and walked to the window. “Yes, Sir,” she replied.

 

Gohan nodded in thanks and turned to the blackboard to begin his lecture. He quickly traced a number of diagrams with white chalk. “We'll be picking up where we left off last time, with discussion of the moon's role in the solar and lunar eclipse,” Gohan said.

 

Gohan paused briefly and listened to the sound of pencils and pens scratching paper as his students hurriedly copied down the diagrams and information from the chalkboard. He wiped a bit of sweat off his brow with the cuff of his sleeve, then frowned. “Dammit, I don't need this tonight,” he thought. “I need to be able to keep it together for at least a few hours.” He loosened his tie a bit with the hope of getting some fresh air from the window into his lungs, then returned to his lecture.

 

The students watched him with concern. While Gohan had always maintained a casual grace in how he carried himself, he was also always polished and alert – tonight he seemed overly distracted and uncomfortable.

 

Gohan's attention wandered toward the back of the classroom as he spoke. He heard the faint but distinct rustle of paper changing hands; after it changed hands for the third time, he paused in his lecture and held his hand out behind his head. “Bring it up here,” he instructed.

 

A young woman stood and walked to the front of the room, her cheeks colored with a deep blush and a sheet of folded paper in her hand. She handed the note to Gohan and stood there, trembling and embarrassed, while she waited to be excused.

 

Gohan quickly scanned the note. “I think something's wrong with Son-san. Do you think he might be sick? I thought he never got sick.” His expression softened. “I thank you for your concern,” he said. “I-” He started to turn around, but as he moved the currents of air in the room carried the young woman's scent over him. His world reeled wildly for a moment, and he reached out and caught himself on the edge of his desk as he fell.

 

“Son-san!” The young woman knelt quickly next to Gohan, and a group of additional students rushed up to the front of the room behind her. “Son-san, are you all right?”

 

Gohan found himself struggling to breathe as his fever spiked sharply upward. “Ice,” he managed to say. “I need...ice.”

 

A young man at the back of the group quickly ran for the door. “I'm getting ice from the nurse's office!” he called.

 

Gohan groaned. If the campus nurse got involved, things were going to get even more complicated than they already were. He reached into his pocket and drew out his cell phone, then fumbled with it a moment before he was able to flip it open. He pushed a button and handed it to the nearest student.

 

“It'll be my brother...” he said heavily. “Tell him I...need help. He'll know what's wrong.” He used his remaining strength to force himself into a seated position against the side of his desk. “Please, Goten, answer your phone,” he begged silently.

 

 

Goten groaned and reached across Bra to the cell phone on the night stand. It jangled brightly again as he picked it up, and Bra opened one eye to watch Goten flip it open.

 

“Dammit, who would be calling me now-” Goten began to grumble. His eyes widened, however, as they focused on the caller ID, and he sat upright as he pushed the button to receive the call. “Gohan?” he asked.

 

Goten felt a sudden weight plummet into his stomach when an unfamiliar young woman's voice replied back. “I'm one of Son-san's students,” she said. “He said to call you for help, that you'd know what's wrong with him.”

 

Goten was already on his feet and pulling on a pair of workout pants as she spoke. “Is he still in the classroom?” he asked.

 

“Yes,” the young woman said. Her voice wavered slightly. “Is...there anything we should do for him?” she asked. “He asked for ice; one of us went to the nurse for ice already.”

 

“That's fine,” Goten said hurriedly. He waved to Bra, who had also quickly dressed, to go ahead of him out the door. “The ice will help for the moment; just don't try to move him and don't crowd him; we'll be right there.”

 

He clicked the phone shut as he stepped into the hallway. The hall light was on, and ahead of him, Bra was speaking rapidly to her father. Vegeta looked up sharply at him.

 

“Gohan's in trouble,” Goten said in reply to the unasked question. “He was overcome by his fever at work; we need to get him out of there before any of his students get hurt or they try to take him to a regular doctor.”

 

Vegeta cursed under his breath. “How was he idiot enough to try to work at a time like this?” he muttered. Then he turned his attention back to Goten. “You're not going to be able to carry him anywhere with those ribs in the condition they're in,” he said. He gestured toward the bindings on Goten's chest.

 

“Vegeta-san, it's nothing,” Goten began. “It doesn't hurt nearly so much as earlier-”

 

Vegeta cut him off. “You can tag along to run crowd control,” he shot back. “I'll carry Gohan.” Vegeta then turned his attention to Bra. “Bra, go find your mother; the two of you can get a bed ready for him where we can keep an eye on his condition.”

 

Bra nodded, and Goten and Vegeta quickly left the building and blasted off at top speed in the direction of Satan City. They locked onto Gohan's ki signature and quickly found the open window of his classroom.

 

Gohan was still seated on the floor near his desk when they entered. He had a large ice pack pressed to his forehead, and a young woman in a white uniform was trying to undo the collar of his shirt despite his protests. The students hovered nervously around them.

 

Gohan's eyes suddenly flickered to the two at the window. “Thank goodness!” he exclaimed softly. He sat forward and tried to climb to his feet, only to topple forward. He caught himself with his free hand just before his face hit the floor.

 

“Son-san!” the nurse exclaimed. “Are you all right? You shouldn't try to get up.”

 

Vegeta scowled. “You shouldn't even be here,” he told Gohan. He strode purposefully toward Gohan. “Now I have to carry your stupid ass home to prevent more trouble.”

 

Goten also hurried forward. “Please, step back,” he asked the students. “Gohan needs room to breathe; he can't be crowded right now.” He reached down to help the nurse attending Gohan to her feet. “Miss-” he began.

 

“Out of the way, woman,” Vegeta demanded. He grabbed Gohan by the front of the shirt and hefted him up out of the nurse's reach, then he slung the half-Saiyan over his shoulder.

 

Gohan sighed at Vegeta's brusque attitude. “Vegeta-san,” he muttered, his voice obscured by the back of Vegeta's shirt, “you could have let Goten-”

 

Vegeta quickly cut him off. “Your brother managed to land himself cracked ribs today,” he said sharply. “You're just lucky that he is staying with us.” He motioned sharply for Goten to head back out the window.

 

The bewildered nurse stood hesitantly. “Wait!” she called. “You can't just carry him like that – he has a terrible fever!” She took a step forward. “He needs medical attention!”

 

“It's okay, it's okay,” Goten said hurriedly, before Vegeta could lose his patience with the woman. “We're taking him to get help. I'm sure it won't be long before he's well again.” He bowed shortly to the nurse and students. “Please, excuse us.” He turned and hurried after Vegeta.