Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Crowned Evil ❯ Conclusion ( Chapter 13 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: Jady 
Ah... the end...
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama / Angst | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 11.16.2002 | Pages: 1 | Words: 2.0K | Visits: 437 | Status: Work In Progress
Ah... the end...
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama / Angst | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 11.16.2002 | Pages: 1 | Words: 2.0K | Visits: 437 | Status: Work In Progress
Chapter 13: Conclusion
On the floor she sat, photo albums circling her. There was a stack for each year, for each birthday party, for each sad or happy event. Gohan's birth certificate was there, along with Goten's. The steam to the apple that Gokou had given her had been saved, even, and rested beside their wedding photo.
Dishes were pilled in the sink, food still on them. On the stove, rich burned. The sent of fire was in the house, overwhelming all other sweat smells of the flowers outside and the cool breeze. Chichi tucked her knees beneath her chin as she sobbed, looking over the photographs of her little Gohan and Goten. She'd lost count of the days that Gohan had been away. Years had blurred together in a fuzzy haze of sorrow and tears. The house was dusty from her lack of cleaning for the past few months. The floors needed to be scrubbed. Clothing needed to be washed. Chichi hadn't moved from her spot in the center of the floor for days. It was there she slept. Her stomach was telling her that she needed food, and she had attempted at cooking, but the idea of eating only left her disgusted.
She lay down on the floor, curling her knees against her chest as she looked in on a picture. There she and Gokou stood, side-by-side, the day before Gohan had killed Cell. It had been Gohan's eleventh birthday that night. The entire family had been there. Gohan still had golden hair, still preparing to fight Cell. Her little eleven-year-old son, ready to defend the world - ready to kill.
It was all Gokou's fault. He'd turned her boy into a murderer. He made her boy violent. Gohan couldn't be blamed. What was a boy supposed to do? She understood. She understood more than Gohan could imagine. Her little boy had killed, and in turn it killed his soul. He didn't want to be the way he was. He couldn't possibly understand that the world was a hideous and cruel place, where evil villains weren't always a strange shade and oddly shaped with powers that could flow from their fingertips. The world was responsible for what had happened to Gohan. Everyone but Gohan and her was responsible - Bulma, Vejita, Trunks, Kuririn, Juuhachigou, Frieza, and especially Cell.
"What are you doing on the floor?"
Chichi shrieked, sliding back against the counter. The frying pan fell off the stove and struck the floor, blackened rice falling onto the already filthy tiles. Her black eyes darted across the kitchen to see her little boy standing in the doorway with a bright smile on his face, book bag resting on his shoulder - ready to study and become a scientist. 'Momma, you shouldn't be sitting on the floor. Are you looking at photo albums? Wasn't our life perfect back then? Almost as perfect as it is now…'
Her imagination was vivid, but her fantasies blinded her from the truth. Chichi jumped to her feet, seeing her teenage son standing in the doorway, dressed in his school uniform, another aced test resting in his hand. The true Gohan stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame, arms folded across his chest, with a grimace on his face. He still wore the purple gi, though somewhat more ragged and stained with sweat and blood. The crimson sash that circled his waist was tainted with the blood of his victims and whores. Gohan watched as Chichi smiled happily and rushed over to him, wrapping her arms around his shoulder and pulling him into a tight embrace, completely ignoring the fact that he remained rigid in her arms. She pulled back, looking over the mental image of her son, not seeing the angered frown and disgusted glare. "Oh, Gohan! I'm so happy you're finally home. Come on. Let me cook you dinner."
"Chichi," muttered Gohan, trying to rip himself from her arms. Chichi ignored him, moving over to the floor and picking up the frying pan. She didn't seem to notice her burning skin as it made contact with the metal handle of the pan. Pain wasn't alive in her any longer. She wasn't inside her body. Gohan stepped towards the kitchen table, watching as she sat it back on the stove and moved to begin cooking some hideous meal. He stepped towards her and grabbed her by the shoulders, looking into her eyes. "WAKE UP!" he roared, shaking her shoulders.
Like a rag doll her head bounced with each moment. Her eyes blinked, tears escaping the corners, before they vanished beneath a bright smile. "What is it, Gohan?" she questioned with a happy tone. "Did something wonderful happen at school?"
Cell chuckled as he stepped beside Gohan, looking at the blank expression on her face. "In her own little world - a lot like you. Does it run in the family?"
Gohan growled deep in his throat, trying to ignore Cell. "Chichi, please, wake up…"
"Gohan, don't be silly. Now go sit down and let me finish dinner, okay, honey?"
She shoved him back gently and turned back to the stove. Gohan stepped away, watching her move quickly from the refrigerator to the stove and back, gathering eggs and rice, boiling water. Within moments all four burners and the oven were burning and the sent of food was filling the house. Cell chuckled again as he stepped in front of Gohan. "Why won't you leave me in peace?"
"You call this peace?" Cell questioned with a shocked and mocking expression. "You call this chaos you rein in, the slaves you rule over, your insane mother, the insane Bulma… that's peace? If that's peace, I fear war."
Gohan snarled and swung at Cell. Of course, as it had happened many times before, he vanished in a puff of white. Chichi spun around at the sound and watched as Gohan turned, searching for his enemy, only to find the little girl standing there again.
Long brown hair, dark blue eyes - she stood in that small white dress, staring up at him with a happy smile. "Why'd you do that?" Her smile was the picture of innocence, hair reaching her shoulders, little ears peaking out from the locks. Gohan snarled and swung his foot to her head, but it passed right through, and Cell stood beside him again. "Do you know who you are fighting?"
"Gohan…"
Turning, Gohan's hair spiking above his head, he swung madly again, striking only the wall. Frieza was behind him, along with Raditzu, mocking him, their chants filling the room as smoke began to burn form the stove. Gohan cried out strings of raging battle cries as he found himself overwhelmed by enemies - many he knew, some he didn't. A large pink blob giggled madly as it darted to and fro, shouting childlike cries of insanity. A little insect rested a few feet away, cheering and throwing white beams of magical light. All three forms of Frieza circled Gohan, one floating above, the other two intermingling their attacks with Cell. They were swinging at Gohan, but he managed to dodge or catch each attempt, the fists fading as he grabbed them. Nappa laughed manically behind him, swinging his fist. Gohan roared out, lightening circling his form.
"Gohan!"
An explosion echoed from deep within his soul. Light exploded like a bomb, sending everything around him to the other world. Gohan cried out, spinning as he heard his mother's cry of death. A wind of nature began to flow, clearing away the ashes, revealing the destroyed Son household. Trees had fallen miles away, leaving nothing but a barren wasteland, just like the cities. "Where you go… death and destruction follow," whispered a robin as it perched itself atop a broken tree limb. The little brown haired girl moved and sat beside the bird, running her hand gently over its little head. "Why'd you do that, daddy?" she questioned again, tears falling from her cheeks.
"Daddy?" Gohan whispered, stepping towards her. The bird cried out and flapped its wings, causing Gohan's daughter to vanish with the wind. The bird rose towards the blue heavens, its black eyes staring down at Gohan, accusingly. "Murderer…"
~*~
Piccolo sat beside Gohan atop a large cliff. He crossed his legs beneath him, watching as the moon set across the horizon. Dawn was slowly approaching. The world was in chaos, humans constantly hiding from the evil demons that had no names. Satan-san was dead, his daughter trembled with fear in her dreams; Bulma was locked away in a tiny little room somewhere in the Capsule Corporation mansion. Vejita was nowhere to be found, and Mirai Trunks had joined the battle against Gohan with Videl. Chibi Trunks and Goten were nothing but slaves to the insane ruler of Chikyuu, and possibly one day the entire universe, and Piccolo was his best… and possibly only friend.
A thunderstorm was slowly approaching, darkness overwhelming the morning's beauty. It seemed appropriate. The sun didn't want its beauty glowing upon the ugly. Gohan remained on that cliff's edge, so close to jumping off and ending his existence, and yet so very far.
"She was my daughter," he whispered quietly to Piccolo, staring as the sun finally peaked over the edge of afar. It was so beautiful, and so very peaceful. He wanted to go into it, allow his callous and cold soul to be overwhelmed by the warmth before finally fading into ash in its heat. He sighed heavily, ignoring the look of confusion he could fill from Piccolo. "I had a little girl."
"You don't have a daughter," Piccolo stated sternly, watching the blank eyes of the young teenager before him.
"I would have had one," he said quietly. "I would have been happy… if…" he trailed off, standing. How could he explain it to Piccolo? How could he tell him that if he hadn't cared about his father he would have been happy? It all could be blamed on Gokou. Somehow, Gohan wasn't surprised. What right did his father have to put the safety of Chikyuu in the hands of a child? What idiotic man would ever do such a horrible thing to such a young boy - even if they were the strongest person alive? Vejita would have never done that to Trunks! Gohan wouldn't have done it to his daughter! It was all Gokou's fault! That bastard! His fists clenched at his side. It was his father's fault! All the blood of the people that had died in the last five years rested on his hands! He was in hell where he belonged!
Gohan looked to the bright sun. Dark clouds were slowing overwhelming its beauty. He saw himself lying on that bed, watching the ceiling as he saw his father's smiling face - it had been a smirk, he finally decided. His father had been smirking, because he knew. He knew! Damn it, that bastard knew! Gohan cried out, collapsing to the ground. He ignored Piccolo's words to him. He ignored the rage that was slowly filling him, along with the desire to destroy the entire planet and encounter his father in the afterworld.
"No…" he whispered after a very long moment. His eyes turned as the final rays of the sun were overwhelmed with the darkness of the thunderstorm clouds. Rain had slowly begun to fall, but a small piece of the sun was still visible. "I'll make the people of Chikyuu suffer for what he has done." Gohan rose to his feet, staring at the sun. Inside he knew his words were true. He would watch human blood flow like rivers. He would hunt down all the senshi, including Mirai Trunks and Vejita, and they would suffer for Gokou's insanity.
'Please, let me forgive him,' Gohan begged quietly to the sun. He didn't know when or where, of if he ever would forgive his father, or himself, for what had happened, but he hoped, somewhere, that it would happen.
Turning, Gohan shot into the black skies of his world, with Piccolo at his side. Somewhere in the dark recesses of his mind, he heard the cackles of Frieza and Cell echoing as they watched his retreating form, along with the sobs of his daughter.
Instead of raindrops, blood fell from the sky.
~*~
TBC
Review!
On the floor she sat, photo albums circling her. There was a stack for each year, for each birthday party, for each sad or happy event. Gohan's birth certificate was there, along with Goten's. The steam to the apple that Gokou had given her had been saved, even, and rested beside their wedding photo.
Dishes were pilled in the sink, food still on them. On the stove, rich burned. The sent of fire was in the house, overwhelming all other sweat smells of the flowers outside and the cool breeze. Chichi tucked her knees beneath her chin as she sobbed, looking over the photographs of her little Gohan and Goten. She'd lost count of the days that Gohan had been away. Years had blurred together in a fuzzy haze of sorrow and tears. The house was dusty from her lack of cleaning for the past few months. The floors needed to be scrubbed. Clothing needed to be washed. Chichi hadn't moved from her spot in the center of the floor for days. It was there she slept. Her stomach was telling her that she needed food, and she had attempted at cooking, but the idea of eating only left her disgusted.
She lay down on the floor, curling her knees against her chest as she looked in on a picture. There she and Gokou stood, side-by-side, the day before Gohan had killed Cell. It had been Gohan's eleventh birthday that night. The entire family had been there. Gohan still had golden hair, still preparing to fight Cell. Her little eleven-year-old son, ready to defend the world - ready to kill.
It was all Gokou's fault. He'd turned her boy into a murderer. He made her boy violent. Gohan couldn't be blamed. What was a boy supposed to do? She understood. She understood more than Gohan could imagine. Her little boy had killed, and in turn it killed his soul. He didn't want to be the way he was. He couldn't possibly understand that the world was a hideous and cruel place, where evil villains weren't always a strange shade and oddly shaped with powers that could flow from their fingertips. The world was responsible for what had happened to Gohan. Everyone but Gohan and her was responsible - Bulma, Vejita, Trunks, Kuririn, Juuhachigou, Frieza, and especially Cell.
"What are you doing on the floor?"
Chichi shrieked, sliding back against the counter. The frying pan fell off the stove and struck the floor, blackened rice falling onto the already filthy tiles. Her black eyes darted across the kitchen to see her little boy standing in the doorway with a bright smile on his face, book bag resting on his shoulder - ready to study and become a scientist. 'Momma, you shouldn't be sitting on the floor. Are you looking at photo albums? Wasn't our life perfect back then? Almost as perfect as it is now…'
Her imagination was vivid, but her fantasies blinded her from the truth. Chichi jumped to her feet, seeing her teenage son standing in the doorway, dressed in his school uniform, another aced test resting in his hand. The true Gohan stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame, arms folded across his chest, with a grimace on his face. He still wore the purple gi, though somewhat more ragged and stained with sweat and blood. The crimson sash that circled his waist was tainted with the blood of his victims and whores. Gohan watched as Chichi smiled happily and rushed over to him, wrapping her arms around his shoulder and pulling him into a tight embrace, completely ignoring the fact that he remained rigid in her arms. She pulled back, looking over the mental image of her son, not seeing the angered frown and disgusted glare. "Oh, Gohan! I'm so happy you're finally home. Come on. Let me cook you dinner."
"Chichi," muttered Gohan, trying to rip himself from her arms. Chichi ignored him, moving over to the floor and picking up the frying pan. She didn't seem to notice her burning skin as it made contact with the metal handle of the pan. Pain wasn't alive in her any longer. She wasn't inside her body. Gohan stepped towards the kitchen table, watching as she sat it back on the stove and moved to begin cooking some hideous meal. He stepped towards her and grabbed her by the shoulders, looking into her eyes. "WAKE UP!" he roared, shaking her shoulders.
Like a rag doll her head bounced with each moment. Her eyes blinked, tears escaping the corners, before they vanished beneath a bright smile. "What is it, Gohan?" she questioned with a happy tone. "Did something wonderful happen at school?"
Cell chuckled as he stepped beside Gohan, looking at the blank expression on her face. "In her own little world - a lot like you. Does it run in the family?"
Gohan growled deep in his throat, trying to ignore Cell. "Chichi, please, wake up…"
"Gohan, don't be silly. Now go sit down and let me finish dinner, okay, honey?"
She shoved him back gently and turned back to the stove. Gohan stepped away, watching her move quickly from the refrigerator to the stove and back, gathering eggs and rice, boiling water. Within moments all four burners and the oven were burning and the sent of food was filling the house. Cell chuckled again as he stepped in front of Gohan. "Why won't you leave me in peace?"
"You call this peace?" Cell questioned with a shocked and mocking expression. "You call this chaos you rein in, the slaves you rule over, your insane mother, the insane Bulma… that's peace? If that's peace, I fear war."
Gohan snarled and swung at Cell. Of course, as it had happened many times before, he vanished in a puff of white. Chichi spun around at the sound and watched as Gohan turned, searching for his enemy, only to find the little girl standing there again.
Long brown hair, dark blue eyes - she stood in that small white dress, staring up at him with a happy smile. "Why'd you do that?" Her smile was the picture of innocence, hair reaching her shoulders, little ears peaking out from the locks. Gohan snarled and swung his foot to her head, but it passed right through, and Cell stood beside him again. "Do you know who you are fighting?"
"Gohan…"
Turning, Gohan's hair spiking above his head, he swung madly again, striking only the wall. Frieza was behind him, along with Raditzu, mocking him, their chants filling the room as smoke began to burn form the stove. Gohan cried out strings of raging battle cries as he found himself overwhelmed by enemies - many he knew, some he didn't. A large pink blob giggled madly as it darted to and fro, shouting childlike cries of insanity. A little insect rested a few feet away, cheering and throwing white beams of magical light. All three forms of Frieza circled Gohan, one floating above, the other two intermingling their attacks with Cell. They were swinging at Gohan, but he managed to dodge or catch each attempt, the fists fading as he grabbed them. Nappa laughed manically behind him, swinging his fist. Gohan roared out, lightening circling his form.
"Gohan!"
An explosion echoed from deep within his soul. Light exploded like a bomb, sending everything around him to the other world. Gohan cried out, spinning as he heard his mother's cry of death. A wind of nature began to flow, clearing away the ashes, revealing the destroyed Son household. Trees had fallen miles away, leaving nothing but a barren wasteland, just like the cities. "Where you go… death and destruction follow," whispered a robin as it perched itself atop a broken tree limb. The little brown haired girl moved and sat beside the bird, running her hand gently over its little head. "Why'd you do that, daddy?" she questioned again, tears falling from her cheeks.
"Daddy?" Gohan whispered, stepping towards her. The bird cried out and flapped its wings, causing Gohan's daughter to vanish with the wind. The bird rose towards the blue heavens, its black eyes staring down at Gohan, accusingly. "Murderer…"
~*~
Piccolo sat beside Gohan atop a large cliff. He crossed his legs beneath him, watching as the moon set across the horizon. Dawn was slowly approaching. The world was in chaos, humans constantly hiding from the evil demons that had no names. Satan-san was dead, his daughter trembled with fear in her dreams; Bulma was locked away in a tiny little room somewhere in the Capsule Corporation mansion. Vejita was nowhere to be found, and Mirai Trunks had joined the battle against Gohan with Videl. Chibi Trunks and Goten were nothing but slaves to the insane ruler of Chikyuu, and possibly one day the entire universe, and Piccolo was his best… and possibly only friend.
A thunderstorm was slowly approaching, darkness overwhelming the morning's beauty. It seemed appropriate. The sun didn't want its beauty glowing upon the ugly. Gohan remained on that cliff's edge, so close to jumping off and ending his existence, and yet so very far.
"She was my daughter," he whispered quietly to Piccolo, staring as the sun finally peaked over the edge of afar. It was so beautiful, and so very peaceful. He wanted to go into it, allow his callous and cold soul to be overwhelmed by the warmth before finally fading into ash in its heat. He sighed heavily, ignoring the look of confusion he could fill from Piccolo. "I had a little girl."
"You don't have a daughter," Piccolo stated sternly, watching the blank eyes of the young teenager before him.
"I would have had one," he said quietly. "I would have been happy… if…" he trailed off, standing. How could he explain it to Piccolo? How could he tell him that if he hadn't cared about his father he would have been happy? It all could be blamed on Gokou. Somehow, Gohan wasn't surprised. What right did his father have to put the safety of Chikyuu in the hands of a child? What idiotic man would ever do such a horrible thing to such a young boy - even if they were the strongest person alive? Vejita would have never done that to Trunks! Gohan wouldn't have done it to his daughter! It was all Gokou's fault! That bastard! His fists clenched at his side. It was his father's fault! All the blood of the people that had died in the last five years rested on his hands! He was in hell where he belonged!
Gohan looked to the bright sun. Dark clouds were slowing overwhelming its beauty. He saw himself lying on that bed, watching the ceiling as he saw his father's smiling face - it had been a smirk, he finally decided. His father had been smirking, because he knew. He knew! Damn it, that bastard knew! Gohan cried out, collapsing to the ground. He ignored Piccolo's words to him. He ignored the rage that was slowly filling him, along with the desire to destroy the entire planet and encounter his father in the afterworld.
"No…" he whispered after a very long moment. His eyes turned as the final rays of the sun were overwhelmed with the darkness of the thunderstorm clouds. Rain had slowly begun to fall, but a small piece of the sun was still visible. "I'll make the people of Chikyuu suffer for what he has done." Gohan rose to his feet, staring at the sun. Inside he knew his words were true. He would watch human blood flow like rivers. He would hunt down all the senshi, including Mirai Trunks and Vejita, and they would suffer for Gokou's insanity.
'Please, let me forgive him,' Gohan begged quietly to the sun. He didn't know when or where, of if he ever would forgive his father, or himself, for what had happened, but he hoped, somewhere, that it would happen.
Turning, Gohan shot into the black skies of his world, with Piccolo at his side. Somewhere in the dark recesses of his mind, he heard the cackles of Frieza and Cell echoing as they watched his retreating form, along with the sobs of his daughter.
Instead of raindrops, blood fell from the sky.
~*~
TBC
Review!