A Dragonball Z fanfic
DISCLAIMER: Dragonball Z is owned by Akira Toriyama and Toei Animation. No copyright infringement is intended.
C&C desperately needed.
Dawn broke upon the world in a ritual older than life itself, the sun peeking timidly over the far-off horizon. Immediately igniting the sky, its rays painted the grassy hills in a million impossible reds, oranges and purples, and fought off the darkness with mindless determination. The air was still cool, virginal, and sang quietly as it ran along the green, rolling slopes.
As nature basked in the primal energy the star willingly gave it, and fed on it, pulsating and growing, the clouds suddenly opened up, pushed back by some unseen force. A new sun appeared then, this one white-hot and diminutive, soaring through the air like a fiery shooting star. Fast as a missile it approached the land, and soon the form of a man could be discerned in the shining orb's midst, deeply immersed in that sea of whiteness. Tall and fair, he could have been confused with an angel, or perhaps with a messenger of the gods themselves… And even those titles would have been befitting to this man. He flew gracefully across the morning, blending with the soothing peace of the moment, losing himself in it. Nature accepted him, gleefully recognizing her chosen son.
Then, with no warning, the man stopped his advance, effortlessly hovering over one of the hills. With infinite slowness, he lowered himself onto the ground, descending with an elegance reserved to creatures of the air. When the white energy touched the grass below, the tiny blades bent, as if bowing in respect to the warrior's power, and created a perfect circle around him. Light as a feather, his feet finally met the ground, and his legs tensed in answer, securing his balance.
He slowly raised his head, and his eyes shone with unbound joy. In a moment, the energy receded into his body, where it rightfully belonged. He felt his shirt flapping in the gentle breeze and smelled the soft perfume of the daffodils. Hearing distant sounds of animals, he turned his head and saw birds fluttering away in haste, frightened by some unknown threat. And as his senses were overloaded with impulses of every kind, he realized he had arrived at last. Taking a step forward, he began to walk toward the large cabin that waited a couple of miles ahead.
Gokuu was home.
I walk up to the door, suppressing somehow the urge to run. Too much time has passed this time, too much. I try to remember their faces, but all I am able to conjure are blurred images, mere sketches with no details.
The front gate opens before I even touch the knob--the children must have felt my presence. Sometimes, it's easy to forget they are powerful warriors themselves, members of a race capable of destroying the Earth on a whim. I can't help but grin, proud of my sons.
Goten is the first one to arrive, clutching my leg with his tiny arms. Ironically, those same arms could destroy a mountain if he wanted, or maybe break this same leg. However, his embrace is loving and tender, a caress to my weary body. I reach down and ruffle his hair, sensing how he tightens his hold on me.
Next comes Gohan, taller than ever and much older, too. Have I been away for so long? What other things have changed? I look at him in the eye, and observe, hidden behind the exterior shell of shyness and calmness, the hard glint that defines him as a warrior: the mark of the Saiyan. A sigh escapes my lips as Gohan stands by my side, seemingly waiting for something. Whatever else my children may have become, they are still faithful to their heritage-- and I'm glad for that.
So distracted I am that I don't notice her until I feel one of her small hands resting on my shoulder. I turn my head, and see her. Chichi's eyes are full of unshed tears, but I don't worry. Those are joyful tears, the right kind--at least, I hope they are. She hugs me, and Gohan slowly comes closer.
I gather my whole family in my arms, and we hold each other for a small eternity as the day gets old around us.
A casual observer would have only noticed a peculiar rustle, or maybe, with some luck and a keen sight, it could have seen the blurred forms of the combatants as they stopped for less than a second in a small hiatus. Then, they would vanish into thin air once again, only to reappear a mere moment later up in the sky, two tiny specks outlined against the pale blue background.
Sitting on the grass outside his house, Goten rapturously stared as his brother and his father battled on, completely absorbed in the sparring match. His eager eyes followed them with ease, betraying his own hidden power, and drank in the sheer complexity of the techniques performed by both men. He was sure he could never be as good as them, but didn't feel any envy. His brother and his father were heroes, and had saved the universe many times. Someday, perhaps, he would also be a hero, just like them.
As he sent a flurry of lightning-fast punches, Gokuu nodded, satisfied with his firstborn's skill. Despite Gohan's reluctance to follow in his footsteps and dedicate his life to the Art, it was obvious that his son had been practicing. Of course, Gokuu thought as he increased the speed of his blows, he was still better, but he was certain Gohan could be the greatest fighter ever to live in this realm if he devoted himself to training--something Chichi would never allow.
Finally, one of the punches slipped past Gohan's tight defenses, taking the youth full in the stomach. Disoriented, Gohan couldn't do anything when Gokuu struck him on the side of his head, sending him into an uncontrolled dive.
As he saw his son plummeting to the ground below, Gokuu shook his head. The truth was, he could hardly blame his wife for trying to give her children a normal life. Perhaps some day she would realize how futile her attempts were: a Saiyan's life would never be normal and peaceful, never.
Chichi was cooking at that moment, and a happy tune drifted out of the kitchen window. Wonderful, heady scents traveled along with it, and together they danced heavenward, almost sentient in their perseverance. Finally, they reached both the recovering Gohan and Gokuu, who had promptly descended to check on his downed son. Their mouths watered, tantalized by the promise of a feast, and this signaled the end of the match by mutual, unspoken agreement.
"Are you all right, Gohan?" Gokuu asked, worry etched in his honest face.
"Yes, Dad," Gohan said, reaching up to touch his bruised cheekbone. "Though I don't think I can say the same thing for my head." He offered a smile, and could see how Gokuu immediately relaxed. He knew his father had held back, but it wasn't important. There was no shame in losing against the best, and Gokuu _was_ the best.
Twilight was near now, Gokuu noted, watching the reddening sun. For a moment, he stared, mesmerized by its beauty, but a sudden yell from the house brought him to more pressing matters.
"How about a little race, Gohan?" Gokuu asked, a playful grin on his lips.
Gohan returned the smirk. "Sure." Not waiting for his father, Gohan set off towards the house, leaving a trail of dust behind. Gokuu was startled for a moment, but then started running himself.
"Hey, that's not fair!"
Laughter ensued, Goten soon joining them, and the sun sank behind the hills.
The house is quiet at last. The children are in their bedrooms, sleeping soundly after the rather eventful day. I myself am laying on my bed, waiting nervously for Chichi to come to bed. She has been in the bathroom for half an hour now, and I'm beginning to fear she will never come out. What's taking her so long, anyway?
This has been a great day: a good fight with my son, a delicious meal, and perfect weather. What else could I possibly ask for? I look at the empty side of the bed, knowing the answer to that question.
How is it that I'm able to leave all this behind? How do I manage to force myself to sacrifice this paradise for the sake of the Art? I don't know, I really don't. Maybe tomorrow I'll remember…
The bathroom door opens, and Chichi comes in. Wow. Breathe, Gokuu, breathe.
She is wearing a nightgown, a dark blue, semi-transparent, _very_ revealing one. In fact, I'm not sure that could be considered a nightgown--not that I'm complaining. Chichi turns off the lights, and I find myself gazing lustfully at her marvelous body as she moves through the room. She walks in the dusk like a spirit, an ethereal, beautiful ghost, her figure highlighted by the dim moonlight filtering in through the window. There's nothing in this universe so breathtaking, I swear it, and I fall in love with her anew…
She is perfect, and I tell her as much. Blushing, she gives me a coy little smile, then walks up to the bed, gently easing herself in it. Willing my heart to start beating again, I slowly lean forward towards her. We kiss, and I taste her moistened lips, savoring her sweet essence. After centuries, we break for air, and I notice the hungry look in her eyes. God, I want her.
Our lips meet one more time, and she runs her hands all up and down my back, silently demanding more. I softly caress her shoulder, then move my hands lower. Her nightgown disappears somewhere along the way, and our naked bodies join in a passionate embrace, sharing warmth and merging.
The night goes on.
The room was bathed in an eerie red light when Gokuu woke up the next morning, a testimony to the new sunrise. In his arms, Chichi slept peacefully, smiling and mumbling meanderings in a soft tone. Gokuu brought his ear a little closer, but wasn't able to understand her incoherent words. For a moment, he wondered what it was that she was saying. Probably, he decided, she was dreaming about her family. Maybe, she was relating a story to Goten, waiting for slumber to reclaim him, or was giving Gohan a wise piece of advice, worried about his son's future. Or perhaps, he thought as he smiled, she was dreaming about him. Bending his head, he softly kissed her on her forehead, and Chichi heaved a contented sigh.
Suddenly, Gokuu's eyes shot open, his drowsy mind properly awakened now. He gently shook Chichi. "Wake up, hon. Wake up," he whispered, and soon his wife stirred slightly.
"What's the problem, Gokuu?" Chichi asked in a sleepy voice, rubbing her eyes. "It's too early."
"I gotta go, Chichi," answered Gokuu. "I felt something."
Chichi sat on the bed. "You mean…?" She didn't finish her sentence, as her gaze met his husbands' serious eyes. Gokuu nodded.
"I'll get the kids." Quickly getting dressed, Chichi gave him one last kiss before rushing out the bedroom.
Gokuu looked around the empty room, engraving its details in his memory. He didn't want to forget about it, nor about any of the previous day's moments. Every second of it would be forever cherished, as he, better than most, knew there probably wouldn't be another one like it. He closed his eyes for an instant, and then put his shirt on.
In no time, he was outside, standing in front of the house--his house--with his family.
Gohan took a step forward. "I'll go with you."
"No," said Gokuu, stern and loving at the same time, "not now. Maybe later, okay?"
A lingering kiss, a goodbye, and a wave. Two fingers touching Gokuu's forehead, one last cocky grin, an amazing level of concentration and power…
He was gone.
My opponent is worthy, more powerful than any other I have ever fought. Stronger than me, I'm certain. And that means I may not win this fight, and I could die. My blood burns with excitement, as it knows as well as I do that it's for moments like these that I have trained my entire life. This is my element, my past, and my destiny.
I feel the cool wind on my skin, but it can't hope to chill my heart's warmth, which spreads through my body, setting it on fire. The familiar rage fills me, owning me, consuming my entire being. I change, mutating into something far different and incredibly powerful. Energy runs through my veins, my blood now pure, comforting lava.
Defeating my enemy doesn't sound so impossible now. No, it doesn't. I look at him in the eye, then, and take pleasure in the uncertainty and confusion I see there.
I think of Gohan, of Goten; I see Chichi's beautiful face, her dark eyes full of life.
And as she smiles at me, I fight.
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