Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Kingdom Come ❯ Chapter 32: Benediction ( Chapter 32 )

Disclaimer- We don't own DBZ.Warnings- Last chapter. Also, yaoi.

Kingdom Come
~ Chapter 32

A brown tail curled in the air, its tip dancing to the soft music being played by a clock radio. Goten sat down on the edge of his and Piccolo's bed, staring at the open doorway to his closet.

All kinds of colors. All kinds of clothes. Different designs, patterns, textures. It was like an abstract representation of this planet. His previous wardrobe was nowhere near this extensive. Nowhere near this colorful. His world seemed to be the darker side of this one, the one where ruthlessness and treachery were such a part of life that it was strange -not- to deal with it constantly. Goten was getting used to it, though.

Another culture shock was music. Here, there were innumerable types and styles and genres. At home, there was what was popular at court and what was popular in the street and nothing like any kind of variety.

A year ago, he wouldn't have thought that this was possible. This had been a mere fantasy carved from the stories Piccolo had told him.

A year ago. It wasn't that long, but it seemed a lifetime. A year ago, he had allowed his heart to be ripped from his chest. A year ago, he had willingly given up the best thing that had ever happened to him. A year ago today, he watched as Piccolo and the others left his father's palace to return home.

A year ago, he ascended for the first time into a super-saiyajin. He had fought his brother over Piccolo and had surprised the Golden Heir by turning golden himself. He had never thought -that- was possible. Of course, he had never thought that he would ever be able to love anyone either, or that anyone would want to get close to him without having a hidden agenda. But then Piccolo came into his life, and everything changed. Rules by which he had lived were suddenly obscure and obsolete.

The royal's brow wrinkled as he frowned in thought. He knew that his home no longer existed. But that didn't stop him from wondering what -would- have happened. Would his father have returned and wondered what had happened to his youngest son? Goten snorted. Somehow he doubted it. Would Trunks and 17 have run off together and escaped the palace and all of its cruelty? Would his brother have accepted the fact that he left with Piccolo?

Only one real conclusion came to him: he didn't feel bad about it. He didn't miss his world. He didn't miss his family. He didn't even miss being a prince. Maybe he should have felt some remorse, but he just... didn't.

A weight settled behind him on the bed, and arms wrapped around him. "Where are you?" Piccolo's deep, sultry voice inquired.

"Right here," answered Goten. He closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of Piccolo's arms wrapped around him. No matter where he was, when Piccolo held him, he felt like he was home. He wrapped his tail around the taller warrior's waist, just to add his own embrace. "Exactly where I want to be."

The royal knew he didn't miss anything in his past. There wasn't anything worth keeping. He hadn't been one for keeping mementos. And it wasn't like he had any friends to give him gifts. All he had... was his name. His name was his reputation. That was where his power was. And that's all he had now. His name. He didn't have the same kind of fear-instilling reputation, and in all honesty he didn't mind that either. He had a new life now, something better than that shroud of horror he had worn.

"We're going to be late," Piccolo noted, not moving to allow Goten to move. He rather liked where he was and was quite content to remain there for a few more moments.

"I know," replied Goten. He stared ahead at his closet, mentally running through all the items therein. "I'm trying to decide what to wear to this festival."

"It's a party. Not a festival. It only really lasts a few hours. For most people, the morning after is usually too painful to be festive," Piccolo returned, smiling.

Goten snorted as he pulled away. He stood in front of the open doorway for a moment. He tried to think of who all would be there. He knew Vegeta was going to be there, as this party was at his club. Therefore, he knew that Trunks and Chibi would be there as well. Probably 18 and Krillin. Maybe Yamcha, if he was in town. 'And Gohan might be there as well.' Goten frowned at that.

Just thinking about the elder demi-saiyajin had his tail curling around him protectively. It wasn't that he -hated- Gohan, but there was still a sense of suspicion. And the elder male hadn't done anything, either. It was just... Piccolo and he shared a past, and Goten was afraid that at the slightest provocation, Gohan -would- come forward and take Piccolo away from him. And then Goten would be truly alone in a strange world, surrounded by people far stronger than him and with nowhere to go.

It was a useless fear, Goten knew. Yet, it was still there. With a slight grin, he pulled out his favorite suit.

"Not that one," Piccolo said, coming to stand with him.

"Why not?" Goten asked, turning to look at his lover.

"Because if you wear it, all I'll be able to think about is getting you -out- of it, and we won't leave the house."

Goten blushed. Well, it was his favorite suit for a reason. He put it back and, after a few more moments, finally decided on something a bit more casual, yet still somewhat dressy. He grinned as he eyed Piccolo, noticing the approval in his eyes.

As he began dressing, he realized there wasn't any going back to the past. Not for anyone. And for Goten, he didn't even want to try. The present and the possible future were far more desirable than that part of his life. And he knew Piccolo felt the same.

"This should be interesting."

***

"How do you stand this shit night after night, honey?" Krillin asked 18 before taking a gulp from his beer bottle. "It's loud, obnoxious, and full of nutjobs. Heh. Actually, that sounds like it's right up Vegeta's alley."

18 smirked down at her husband, keeping one hand firmly placed on his shoulder so he couldn't get swept away by the large crowd surrounding them near the main dance floor. "It's only because of the holiday, and everyone is drunk. Makes for good business."

"Business. Yeah. What is this, like, the tall people's club?" he asked. "I got nothing but asses in my face."

"They all appear to be average height," observed his wife, looking around at the other patrons. "There are a few taller people but also shorter ones."

"Yeah, well, I can't really tell much from my vantage point," Krillin stated. "Everywhere I look, it's asses. There's an ass there. Oh, and there's another ass. Look! An ass! Asses here, there, everywhere. Man, I hate being short sometimes."

"Krillin," scolded the blonde female with an air of annoyance. "I thought you got over your whole "I'm a midget, and it fucking sucks" complex."

The short bald man rolled his eyes and huffed. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. You know, I wouldn't give a damn if I could see more than other people's rear ends every which way I turn."

"Well," 18 said as she bent down and kissed her husband on top of his head, "they may be taller, but you're bigger in the department that really counts."

"Hmm. Good point you got there, 18," grinned Krillin. "Poor bastards."

He leaned against his wife's leg, taking another swig from his bottle. Somehow managing to tune out the raucous music, Krillin realized this was the first New Year's he'd spent not at the Look-out in over a decade. Granted, the year before had been in another dimension, but it was still technically the same place. Vegeta's new club seemed to be a decent alternative, especially since they'd all agreed to discontinue celebrations at the Look-out, in light of the past two New Year's events.

So much had changed in the past two years for him. He, himself, had not made any changes other than truly appreciating what he already had in this world, but it was everything else that had changed around him. People, in particular. For example, he still couldn't look Piccolo or Goten in the eye to this day. He was aware of the crowd shifting to let someone through, so he looked up briefly. Shaking his head, he muttered to himself, "Speak of the devil..."

"Happy New Year," 18 greeted them flatly.

Piccolo smirked. "Your enthusiasm is overwhelming. Maybe you should tone it down."

"Happy New Year to you, too," Goten returned, smiling at the two shorter beings. It had taken a lot of adapting to understand the people in this dimension and their culture, including holidays and how they were celebrated, but Goten found he enjoyed it much more than he imagined. There was still more he had yet to learn, but he was confident he'd adjust. 'Thank the gods for television.'

Looking for any excuse to not look up at them, Krillin focused in on their clothing and commented, "Nice threads!"

"Thanks," replied the demi-saiyajin. He noticed the pint-sized male's discomfort although he wasn't sure for what reason Krillin might be out of sorts. Goten, himself, was rarely uncomfortable now; something about this world had bolstered his confidence immensely. Occasionally, however, he would get into an 'off' mood. And only one thing never failed to get him out of his funk... Getting a sly look on his face, he bent to whisper in 18's ear. He pulled back only to find a rare grin on the blonde woman's face and then chuckled as he watched her snatch up her husband and push her way up the stairs.

"What was that all about?" Piccolo asked, raising one eyebrow ridge high.

Goten wrapped his arms around his lover's waist and smiled. "Oh, I just reminded 18 that she has an office upstairs."

"Why is that important?"

"Couch. Door with a lock."

"Ah."

***

The air was filled with the rhythmic pulse-pounding music of some band that Yamcha knew he wasn't able to name. That didn't mean he wasn't able to enjoy it, though. It was a live band, and despite the fact that they didn't look old enough to be out of high school yet, they were actually very good. And very popular. It seemed 17 had to call in a few favors to get them to play, even though landing a live performance at Vegeta-sei was an ideal gig. Everywhere Yamcha looked, there were people. It was crowded tonight, but then, it was always crowded. The club was doing well.

He stood at the bar, getting a drink before he went upstairs to join Vegeta. He was dressed especially for his prince tonight with a shirt he had Opal tailor for him. It was made to expose part of his back, particularly the scarring of the royal emblem. He hadn't worn it yet, but he knew that Vegeta would like the gesture. It was late, and he was tired, but he found that Vegeta tended to get a thrill out of him visiting the club. Yamcha grinned as he thought of how Vegeta's eyes always seemed to shine a bit brighter and how he demanded Yamcha stand beside him; close enough so that the prince could wrap his arm around the human's waist.

Yamcha nodded his head as he accepted his drink. Before he had a chance to move away from the bar, though, someone decidedly NOT Vegeta tried to make a move on him. A large man, almost as large as Goku was, approached Yamcha, placing his hand on the human's rear and squeezing. Yamcha turned, his eyes wide, as the stranger leaned towards him and leered, "Hey, baby."

Rolling his eyes incredulously, the scarred male laughed. "'Hey, baby'? Does that shitty line actually work for you? I mean, really. 'Cause... That's a shitty line, and you should stop using it."

The stranger snorted. "Well, then. Direct approach it is. Wanna fuck?"

"No," Yamcha scowled, moving past him. Unfortunately, the other man just wouldn't take the hint and clamped his large hand down hard on Yamcha's shoulder. Moving faster than the larger man could register pain, Yamcha grabbed the offending hand and turned, twisting the captured appendage as he did so and forcing the man to his knees. "Listen, I'm with someone."

"Yeah? Who?" the brutish man asked, clearly not taking Yamcha's threat of violence seriously enough.

"Where's good help when you need it?" Vegeta asked, suddenly appearing next to the two humans. The prince glared balefully at the large human on the ground. He knew what had happened. He had seen the entire event because he hadn't been able to take his eyes off of Yamcha since his arrival, especially considering how the human was dressed in an enticingly revealing shirt. He watched as Yamcha released his hold on the large man's wrist and backed away carefully, even though they both knew that this was one opponent Yamcha could have dispatched quite easily. The prince moved to wrap his arm around his lover's waist, a customary greeting for them. His dark eyes never left the scum that dared to touch what was his as he commanded a nearby bouncer, "Get this trash out of my club!"

The banned patron turned to look at the person who was about to throw him out and came face to chest with someone even larger than himself. Even though it was his night off, Piccolo couldn't resist. Grinning down evilly at the quickly paling human, the green warrior grabbed the man by the back of his neck and led him away. Goten watched Piccolo leave with a bemused smile, waiting for him to return. The tailed prince turned to look back at the elder two males.

Yamcha smiled down at the saiyajin who was currently holding him, "Hey, Prince--"

"Shut up," Vegeta ordered as he pulled Yamcha down for a kiss that had a few people whistling in appreciation, and Yamcha's toes curling in pleasure. He had wanted to do that since he had seen Yamcha enter, proclaiming for the world to see that he belonged to the one and only Prince of All Saiyajins. If they had been at home, he'd have done more, but they weren't.

If they had been at home, and if Vegeta had taken the night off, they would both be bare of every thing except their sweat and tears. Pressed up flush against his lover, Vegeta recalled that they had spent the previous night in such a state. He remembered falling asleep, cradled in Yamcha's arms, as the human sang to him. -That- particular action never failed to make Vegeta weak, willing to do whatever the human asked, without question.

When he finally pulled away, releasing Yamcha, the prince was pleased to see the human's eyes glassed over, and the drink in his hand nearly forgotten. "I like the shirt."

"Um... Y-yeah," Yamcha stuttered, laughing at himself as he blushed bright red. He shook himself visibly, trying to reorient himself.

Vegeta looked away from his lover, grinning, as Piccolo reappeared. The namek almost seemed like a regular person now, with a job and a lover and a public image. He was far more sociable, almost friendly, with others. Granted, he was still a superb bouncer, intimidation coming naturally, but if someone asked him something, he was more than willing to explain the situation. Vegeta assumed it had to do with his innate mentoring nature, which had flourished with Goten at his side.

The tailed prince, for his part, wasn't as innocent as any of this dimension's demi-saiyajins, but he fit in well with the darker half of the Z-fighters. Those with less than pristine backgrounds, who have as much innocent blood on their hands as corrupt. But when he was around Piccolo, there was something that Vegeta could easily recognize in Chibi and even in Trunks. It was youthful. It was innocent. It was the same look that he occasionally saw in Yamcha's eyes.

With a tilt of his head, he asked the green man, "I thought I gave you the night off."

"You did," Piccolo agreed, draping an arm across Goten's shoulders. The action was so effortless, so natural, that he didn't even think about it. It was like crossing his arms used to be, but now he was wrapping them around someone else. "But that one was free of charge."

Vegeta nodded his head, turning to look over the throngs of people who were intent on celebrating the beginning of a new year in his club. Beside him, Yamcha turned to Goten and asked, "When did you guys get here?"

"Couple minutes ago!" the demi-saiyajin prince shouted over the roar of the crowd and band. "Just long enough to talk with Krillin and 18 for a moment, and then find you two."

"Hey, you guys!" a feminine voice abruptly exclaimed next to them. The four of them turned in unison as a strange blue-haired woman approached them, a large smile on her face.

Yamcha was the first to recognize her. "BULMA!"

"Yep!" she grinned, hugging him even though Vegeta almost refused to release his hold. She grinned and winked at Goten and Piccolo. "How are you guys?"

"Good," Yamcha returned, still slightly stunned. First, shocked that the woman would actually come to Vegeta's club. From everything he'd heard, Bulma hadn't set foot inside it since the prince had bought it. Not that she was being malicious or anything; she just hadn't thought she'd enjoy herself. Even when they had been dating, clubbing was -not- Bulma's preferred pastime. Secondly, Yamcha was shocked to see her in an outfit that made her look... stunning. "Wow. Look at you!"

"Look good, don't I?" Bulma said smugly. "I feel good, too. Like I could take over the world, if I wanted to. Which I don't, as that would take time away from other things. Like smoochies. Good love will do that to ya, though, don't you think... Vegeta?"

"What the fuck are you talking about, woman?" Vegeta growled, though there was no real anger behind it. Mild annoyance, maybe, but that was to be expected.

"What are smoochies?" Goten asked, his brow wrinkled as he tried to figure it out.

Bulma tilted her head to the side and tried to think of a way of explaining the word without embarrassing herself or Goten. "Smoochies. Hmm... It's slang. It's... It's hot kisses that rob you of your breath and make your toes curl. Can include sex. Think of it like the kiss that Vegeta gave Yamcha a moment ago, and yes, I -did- see that. It was cute, too."

"Hn," the saiyajin responded as he pulled Yamcha close to him again. The others caught the movement, much to their amusement. "So, who is this unfortunate sap who you've got your claws in this time?"

"Oh. Out on the dance floor... With Trunks and Chibi," Bulma smiled, her face beaming with excitement and joy.

"... You don't mean that... girl, do you?" Yamcha asked, looking at the only person dancing with the two demi-saiyajins. Someone he knew. Someone they -all- knew. Their favorite fashionista. Opal.

"That's her," she nodded, almost giggling. She hadn't felt this alive since... well, it had been a while.

"Woman... That's a girl," Vegeta said evenly, making sure that the human who had supported him for almost twenty years understood what she was doing. It would have been very disturbing to know that she had gone insane and he -hadn't- noticed. Well, more insane than she already was when they first met.

"And?" Bulma asked, one eyebrow rising.

"You don't date girls," Yamcha explained.

"Who says?"

"Says me!"

"And me," Vegeta agreed, still looking at Opal. He knew she was a friend of Goten's and Yamcha's. She owned her own store. She was hardworking. Dedicated and loyal. Good traits.

"Well, I thought a change could do me good," Bulma retorted, rolling her eyes at them. They were not the ones who needed to be scolding her about her choice in lovers. They were her exes after all. What did they know about her?

"I don't understand. How did you two even meet?" Goten interrupted, not the least bit flustered about this turn of events, although he was slightly amused.

"I was shopping for Christmas presents early, like in November, and I went in to this one store, looking for something for Trunks. She worked there. Flirted with me some. I liked it. Flirted back. Next thing I knew, she was asking me out to dinner." Bulma blushed, biting her lower lip at the end. "And I agreed."

"Bulma! She's half your age!" Yamcha exclaimed.

"I know! Isn't that great? -And- she doesn't even know I'm rich! That's the best part! Someone who actually likes me for me."

"That has to be a first," Vegeta smirked, deciding he liked this idea. If nothing else, it kept Bulma happy, and that meant life would be peaceful for everyone... well, everyone except Opal.

"Oh, shut up," she said as she stuck her tongue out at him.

"Wait, wait. I think we're getting off the main topic here. Bulma. You don't like girls. Not like that," Yamcha reiterated, still not grasping the entire concept of Bulma, his ex-girlfriend, dating his friend Opal. He knew that later, when and if he did come to terms with it, he'd be worried about them, worried that one of them would do something to fuck it up and to hurt the other. But as of right that moment, there were more pressing concerns.

"I like this girl like that. Did I mention she's one helluva cook? Absolutely perfect," Bulma nodded, noticing that her lady-love, Chibi, and her son were all heading in their direction. Seeing how Opal smiled at her had electric chills racing through her, and she totally missed what Yamcha said next.

"This is so fucked up."

"I didn't know you all knew each other. Interesting," Opal said, leaning over to the older woman. She smiled at the group of men, but her brightest smile was reserved for Bulma. "Dance with me, hmm?"

The blue-haired woman waved to each of them, stopping to hug Trunks and Chibi before the two ladies made their way back onto the dance floor.

"Wild, huh?" Trunks remarked as he watched his mom leave into the throng of moving bodies on the dance floor, soon swallowed along with Opal. Trunks turned back to the others, grinning. He could see Yamcha was still trying to digest the fact, though it seemed his father had simply accepted it as fact and was ready to move on. Well, his mother was in love with love and a very open person. And he knew that she did indeed enjoy her new relationship. He had known about it long enough to have the shock more or less wear off.

Yamcha stood there, shaking his head a little, his mouth opening and closing as if he was struggling to say something. This turn of events left him mind-blown. "... I can't think of a thing to say. I mean... Wow. Just... Wow."

"I think that covers it for everyone," Vegeta said, taking the glass from Yamcha's hand and downing the contents. The initial surprise had worn off, and now, he was content. After all, now that Bulma was otherwise occupied, it meant he didn't have to worry about her. 'Hn. With her, if she stays busy, she stays out of trouble.'

The lavender-haired youth laughed slightly, turning to look at Piccolo and Goten. The two of them weren't the least bit affected by this startling piece of information and seemed to simply be enjoying themselves. He had seen them here together often enough, and occasionally, he and Chibi had even managed to drag them both out onto the dance floor. It was interesting to see the change that had occurred in Piccolo, though he knew that the tailed prince had also changed. Trunks grinned as he kissed his own lover. He could understand how a person could change when they met the love of their life although he had grown up with his. Trunks knew that he wasn't the best of friends with Piccolo and Goten, but they were at least friends, so he decided to test the boundaries of that friendship. He released his hold on Chibi to make an elegant bow to the prince. "Care to dance?"

"All right," Goten agreed with a bemused grin, though still eyeing the other male warily, "but if you touch me inappropriately, I'll rip your arms off."

"No touching. Got it," Trunks nodded sharply, completely serious. But then he grinned and led the way to the dance floor, making sure -not- to take Goten's hand as he cut through the crowd. They stopped a fair distance away, yet they weren't quite completely in the confining press of bodies. There was still enough room around them and between them that Goten's space was not intruded upon too greatly.

Chibi watched as the two began to dance. He breathed deeply, sighing to himself. Of all the things that had happened over the last year, the one thing he felt was most remarkable to himself was the changes -HE- had made. He felt... powerful, more self-confident, prouder. He stood self-assured with his head held high. A year ago, he hadn't felt like this. He had felt like a child pretending to be an adult, and he had been. But now... things had changed. And he liked it.

Piccolo could no longer see the two dancing as the crowded dance floor shifted and moved, like waves in the ocean obscuring his vision. He looked towards Vegeta and Yamcha only to see the two swaying where they were, dancing to their own music. He could see Yamcha's lips moving, but it was something that even the namek's overly sensitive ears couldn't hear, especially with the band playing as loud as it was and the ear plugs in his ears. Since they were lost in their own little world, that left the green warrior to amuse himself. He turned to see Chibi still watching the crowd, a look of light boredom marring his youthful features. With a smirk, he went over to the young demi-saiyajin. He grabbed the youth by the hand and proceeded to drag him out onto the dance floor, the place he had been watching so wistfully. "Come on."

There was very little room to move out on the dance floor, but Piccolo led them to a relatively unoccupied area. He had to push a few people out of his way to do so, but then, most of them were more than happy to get out of his way. Finally, they arrived in a corner of the dance floor, close enough to one of the large speakers that Piccolo could almost feel every beat pulse through his body. He smirked as he turned to Chibi and began dancing with him.

Chibi grinned, looking around at where they were. It was a dark corner, well away from where he had last seen Goten and Trunks. And even though Piccolo had managed to get a few people out of the space, the two of them were still pressed up close together. The demi-saiyajin suppressed his giggles. It was a cheap thrill, he knew, but it was still a thrill. He couldn't help becoming slightly aroused by the situation but was grateful that Piccolo either didn't notice or didn't pay it any attention.

Had it not been for all the other people dancing around them and forcing Piccolo and Chibi to be dancing so closely that they may as well have been dry humping on the dance floor, Piccolo might not have noticed the aroused state of the other male. As it was, he was pretending not to notice. He understood how dancing like they were could have that kind of effect on a person; it wasn't as if it hadn't happened many times before with himself and Goten. Of course, in those cases, it had led to extremely passionate sex shortly thereafter. And it didn't help that Chibi had slowly become nearly a dead-ringer for his Goten over the past few months.

But that wasn't going to stop him from enjoying himself. It was just dancing, after all.

All too soon, the song ended, and the duo made their way back towards Yamcha and Vegeta at the bar, only to find that Trunks and Goten had beaten them there. When the other two saw them return, Trunks looked questioningly at Chibi, while Goten didn't even have time to think about it as Piccolo gave him a huge, breathtaking kiss.

"Wow," breathed the royal demi-saiyajin once the kiss ended.

No sooner had he uttered the word than were champagne flutes being shoved into his and everyone else's hands in the group. Moving around to each of them, a waitress filled each glass with a crystalline, bubbly liquid. Vegeta, examining the contents of his glass, stated," It's supposed to be the best champagne in the world. If it tastes like piss, I'm blowing France off the face of the planet."

"I'll help," smirked Piccolo. "Never much cared for the French."

"What is this for?" Goten asked, peering down into the tall glass. Effervescent bubbles rose up and tickled his nose, causing him to jerk back sharply.

"Traditional celebration thingy," pointed out Yamcha. "You count down the last ten seconds, yell 'happy new year!' at midnight, kiss your lover if you've got one, and then drink. You know. Traditional thingy."

Trunks craned his neck, looking around for a clock. "How much time do we have left anyway? And why the fuck don't you guys have a clock up? I mean, hell-o. New Year's. The clock's, like, a big deal."

"You can't be this stupid," Vegeta mused, swirling the champagne in his glass. "I refuse to believe that. Would someone show my idiot child where the -gigantic- fucking clock is?"

Chibi lightly took the lavender-haired demi-saiyajin's chin in one hand and turned his face towards the stage. "Babe. Above the stage. -Really- big."

Trunks looked in the direction towards with Chibi directed him. And that's when he saw it. He had thought it a prop or some kind of new wall art. It took up almost all of the available space above the stage, after all. He blushed as he turned to the others, "I knew that."

"Liar," snorted his father.

The conversation within the group went on idly until the band stopped playing and the lead singer announced, "Hey, guys an' dolls, grab a drink and grab a hot body to plant your lips on! Only thirty seconds to midnight!"

***

A single flake of snow drifted down from an overcast sky, an ethereal herald of what was soon to occur. There was a space between the light of the streets below and the darkness of the snow-pregnant sky. It was a strange sort of limbo, where the gargoyles of some of the more European-styled buildings deigned to watch the festivities of the annual holiday. Amongst the stone observers, there was another lone being that sat with them, yet his thoughts carried him away from the cold and the damp.

Gohan sat propped up on one large stone figure, one leg dangling down. He had his helmet off, and the bitter December air whipped past him fast and cold, biting at his ears and nose. He enjoyed its sting, though, enjoyed it more because he was alone in it. Videl was at her father's house, enjoying a normal New Year's Eve party with normal people. He smiled as he took in a deep lungful before exhaling. This was a night of transition, where the old year ended and a new one began.

Two years ago, he had spent this night trying to fix his marriage. He had tried to force himself into a mold for which he was never really designed. Ultimately, he knew that he would never be able to be the person that he had thought everyone wanted him to be. It made him unhappy. It made him a bit stir-crazy. It wasn't what he wanted for himself.

He wanted to be free. Free, like he was in his childhood when he wasn't with his mother. Free, like when he was training with Piccolo.

Gohan smiled as he thought of Piccolo, a small smile filled with love and regret. A year ago today was the day that changed his entire world. Piccolo had brought back Goten, the little prince who was just as displaced as Gohan was, only in a different way.

It had taken him a while, almost a full year, but Gohan was almost able to accept that Piccolo and Goten were together. There was no denying the fact that they loved each other. And he knew that he would grant them their deserved happiness. He did have the satisfaction, however, of knowing that Goten was so self-conscious about Piccolo's and his past as to make it a point to threaten him. He had been pissed off at first, but after he had mulled it over, he realized that Goten was afraid of him. Not afraid of his physical power, but afraid of Gohan trying to steal Piccolo back. It was nice to think that Goten thought he had a chance.

Goten loved Piccolo the way he wished he could love Videl. But it just wasn't in him to love her that much, that all-consuming. He didn't feel guilty about it, either. It wasn't as if Videl loved him that passionately. In fact, if it wasn't for the fact that sometimes they were actually able to laugh and joke with each other, he'd think she didn't like him at all. Sometimes they could get along. Sometimes they were even affectionate with each other. But those times were coming few and farther between.

Actually, he couldn't remember the last time they'd spoken a civil word to each other.

Wet, white flakes of snow flew at him, dancing in the wind. Not even the elements wanted to forego this party. The solitary demi-saiyajin took off one of his gloves and held out his hand, capturing a few flakes in his palm, allowing them to melt instantly. Water turned to ice, rain to snow, but they both melted back. Perhaps, given enough warmth and the opportunity, Gohan's life could melt back into something more than the ice-sculpture it had become. He knew Videl was as unhappy as he was. And he knew that they had tried everything of which they could think and even tried a few suggestions others had made. But none of them worked. It was to the point that their marriage was simply... dead weight.

Perhaps what they both needed... was to be free.

It seemed that every year for the past few, this night held something life altering for him. And this was no exception. Gohan sighed as he took off his ring. He stared at his naked hand for a moment and then wiggled his fingers. He grinned a moment before he slipped his glove back on. It felt strange to have the glove on his hand and not have the ring there as well. At the same time, though, it felt rather good. Uplifting.

He knew how clichéd it was to be thinking all of this at this particular time on this particular night, but he also realized that it wouldn't be so clichéd if it weren't completely and totally accurate. It wouldn't be so trite and cheesy if it weren't absolutely true. A new year meant a new beginning.

Gohan smiled as he made a grab for his helmet.

"It's a brand new year."