Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Retaliation; the Trouble Inside ❯ Rite of Lineage ( Chapter 9 )

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in Dragon Ball Z or GT. Akira Toriyama created them and Toei Animation Co. licenses them. This is fan fiction! However, I do own the OC characters of the Archalisites and the idea of the Race Bank comes from my story Lost and Found; Royal Line Blues and Dr. Who.

 

Sunday, April 20, 2008

 

Frustrated, Gohan's daughter flopped over in her bed. The entire frame shook with the force of her affecting the mattress again. Only minutes before Uub had set her gently down on top of the quilt and tossed that comforter over her. Realizing that he probably was still on the grounds she debated confronting him. Would he shy away and deny his feelings, or face up to them? Just what would be gained by forcing a confession if he was not ready?

 

The sound of footsteps on the stairs alerted her, and she realized from the ki that it must be her father Gohan. Her mother's ki shimmered in proximity to where she thought her grandmother must be, and she figured Videl was cooking dinner. Nearby two large kis remained stationary by the front door of her grandparent's home. Judging from the sudden flare, they were rather excited. When the ki abruptly shifted position to what must be her grandparent's bedroom she felt the blood erupting over her face. Grossed out at the thought of what they might be doing she quickly dragged images of Uub into her brain.

 

"Pan, are you up here, honey?" asked Videl, her voice calling up from the foot of the stairs. "Dinner's just about ready. Your father's just come home and I thought we could invite your grandparents to join us."

 

"She's lying down," whispered Gohan's voice, shushing her. Abruptly Videl's voice dropped, and she heard more soft whispers. Sliding off the bed, her feet touched the floor and she noticed them that someone had taken off her socks and shoes. Still she felt sweat dampening her gi and wrinkled her nose.

 

"Mom, I'm awake now!" called Pan, reaching her door. "I was going to take a shower; I really got all soaked from the workout..."

 

"You sure honey? Uub said that you were worn out and that you were resting," called up Gohan.

 

"He what?" blinked Pan, suddenly panicking. "Is he still there?"

 

"He went to find your grandparents and invite them over to join us for dinner," Videl said.

 

"I don't think that's a good idea," Pan blurted out, almost tripping over her feet as she rushed down the stairs. At the foot her mother stood, with one foot on the first step and the second on the first landing. Gohan wore his usual blue suit, his glasses in place on his nose blurring his dark eyes. His hand shot out and grasped Videl's forearm.

 

"She's right, Videl. Mom and Dad are... busy right now..." Gohan said. His wife soon noticed the faint blush on his face.

 

"Oh... dear... I hope Mom doesn't throw a fit if they..." she trailed off when she saw Pan halfway down the steps.

 

"I'm sure he knows better," Pan blurted out. "I mean Grandpa taught him to sense ki, so he could tell if... you know... oh never mind! I don't want to know!"

 

"Honey, you look exhausted! What on earth did you do? Your outfit's soaked," Videl commented, quickly changing the subject when she saw Gohan's blush intensify and he looked away.

 

"Knowing my dad, a big workout! How was training, honey?" Gohan asked, slipping his arm around Videl's shoulders. Her long hair was twisted into a long braid that reached her waist, the end dangling just above Gohan's hand. He gave it an affectionate tug, and she stroked the small of his back through his clothes.

 

"Great! Just great!" she brightly chirped, causing her father to wrinkle his nose a bit in doubt.

 

"You sure? You'd better take a shower and change or your grandmother will start to nag your poor mom about laundry, young lady," Videl teased playfully.

 

"That would be great. A nice cold shower," Pan nodded, rushing up the stairs before they saw a blush on her face that equaled Gohan's in shade.

 

"Wait a minute; don't I get a hug sweetie?" Gohan asked.

 

"Sorry Daddy! But I don't want to get your suit all nasty and sweaty! Then Grandma will REALLY flip!" said Pan.

 

"I'll settle for a kiss," Gohan insisted, moving up the stairs to peck his daughter's cheek. "Besides, I was going to change anyway and work out a bit myself."

 

"You work out? But you haven't even told us what Bulma said about... that... problem," Videl said, and then snapped her mouth shut as pan's brows knit in that V of confusion.

 

"Well, you can never be too ready. I've been slacking off, and Goten wanted to go a few rounds with me after dinner," said Gohan.

 

"But I thought he was with Bra..." Pan started, and then it was her turn to trail off at her parents glances of confusion and awkwardness.

 

"She's still staying with Marron honey. Did you want one of us to drive you over so you could see her?" asked Videl.

 

"No, that's fine. Never mind... Got to shower!" Pan cut herself off, before kissing her dad's cheek and racing up the stairs at blinding speed. Watching his daughter's sudden gust fluff her husband's hair, Videl shook her head.

 

"She's in a good mood. I wonder what Grandpa did?" Videl asked.

 

"A world of good, it looks like. Seems like our Pan is back to her old self. Or I hope," Gohan tapped his chin, as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. For a moment, he pulled them off then twirled them by one temple thoughtfully.

 

"Honey, are you and Goten training because of..."

 

"Uh huh," Gohan nodded, his dark eyes deep with worry. "Bulma and I talked about what's happened since. Apparently Vegeta and Trunks talked for a very long time."

 

"Any idea what's going on?" Videl asked.

 

"You know how Vegeta is. He will only tell us when he feels we are ready to handle it. Or when it suits him," Gohan answered evasively.

 

"If you say so. But is Trunks...?" came the inevitable question.

 

"We can talk about that later, after dinner. Right now Trunks seems back to his normal self, but there are many other things that Bulma's worried about. She was starting to talk to Vegeta when I left. She says she'll call w hen she knows more."

 

"But what did you and Bulma do?"

 

"I'll tell you once I've changed. However, the long and the short of it is that it is something that shocked even Vegeta. Moreover, we need to be on our guard. It's my own fault I have retired from fighting when I should have been vigilant. We have gotten complacent, and Pan's withstood the worst of my carelessness. Thank Dende Grandpa and Uub are around to help her because I feel as if I've failed her," Gohan admitted.

 

To this admission, Videl's face creased in worry, "Gohan that's being a bit harsh to yourself! You yourself said that your job was more important than fighting. Especially with your father and Uub around there seemed little need to worry. How could you have known?"

 

"I don't want to make the mistake I did when Majin Buu happened," Gohan frowned.

 

"You're being unfair to yourself Gohan. When will you stop beating yourself up over that?" Videl snapped.

 

"I... I'd better get changed. I'll be down to help you with dinner soon. Dad and Mom will probably be joining us when they're um... done with whatever they're doing..." Gohan said.

 

"Gohan you're a lousy bluffer," Videl rested a hand on her hip and glared at him. "Don't try hiding things from me. You stink at it."

 

"Darn it Videl, it's hard to explain. Bulma and I ran so many different tests. You remember what I told you about what Uub said he saw?"

 

"Yes, how could I forget? That boy has talents that surprise even your dad," Videl nodded. "Go on and change honey. I think we all need to have a chat over dinner and get things in the clear. As much as I don't want to bring up things in front of Pan... you and I both know we can't protect her forever."

 

"No. I'm glad you agree honey," Gohan nodded, leaning forwards to hug her tightly. Their lips brushed gently in a kiss, and then his arms latched around to hold her close as she deepened the brief contact.

 

"Maybe I could help you slip into something more comfortable, Professor Son," she winked, leading the way upstairs.

 

"Videl, what about dinner?"

 

"What about it? It's still in the oven. Besides, Pan's in the shower, and we have a little time to 'catch up' in other ways," Videl winked. Gohan shook his head and chuckled, letting his wife lead him towards their room. They would take momentary solace in one another, drawing strength in a tryst while things were still tranquil. Why should only his parents avail themselves of a calm bit of downtime before a storm?

 

As she toweled her hair dry, Pan wandered back to her room. Droplets of water still splashed on the floor from her body, wrapped in a terrycloth robe. It clung in places to her shapely body, having bloomed since the days of her adventuring with Grandfather. Blasting herself with cold water failed to wash away the desires rippling through her, and she wished her grandfather had kept his big mouth shut instead of teasing Uub.

 

How could she blame her Grandpa though for being protective? Granted Uub was his own star pupil, but he still held the reservations that a protective parent and guardian against prospective suitors of his little baby granddaughter. Though Goku treated her like a fighter, he still unconsciously coddled her in some ways that she wished he didn't. He was just as bad as her Grandpa Satan was in some ways.

 

“I'm not a kid. Especially since I've reached Super Saiyan for crying out loud,” she mumbled, kicking her door open. Rooting though her dresser drawers, she searched for a comfortable T-shirt and clean pair of jeans. Slowly clothes that are more feminine had entered her wardrobe, but when she wanted to be comfortable, she still enjoyed her own unique style. A few of the shirts had floral prints, while some of the pairs of jeans were decorated with sewn on sequins here and there. Most of the time she no longer wore her trademark scarf to tie her hair back. She had ceased that at least two years ago. Rather she enjoyed styling her hair for a change under Bra's tutelage.

 

Now as she brushed out the straight dark hair, she glanced her reflection in the mirror. It struck her how similar to her grandmother she seemed as time passed. The same raven black locks that hung past her shoulders along with the set of her eyes that favored her father. Grandpa often commented he only knew one other person as stubborn as she was, and that was her grandmother Chichi. For a moment, she wondered if she could comfortably talk to her mom or grandmother about how she was feeling without the usual awkward questions. Normally she would share them with Bra, as she had with other things having to do with boys. Talking to Gohan seemed out o the question because she was frightened he would come on like the overprotective father from hell.

 

Grandfather might understand. Grandmother might be a better bet in some ways. Perhaps she could cleverly find some way to make the story seem about a friend. Then remembering how shrewd her grandmother was Pan nixed that idea. No, Bra or Marron would be a better choice. Goten would be just as protective as her own father, and after the breach in trust that was tentatively healing she felt resentful of even thinking he would get it. Still it seemed unfair because before the whole mess with Trunks she could have told him anything.

 

Trunks would have been one of the others she could have confronted. However, he was obviously out of the question. His mother might be someone else to turn to, but she would pester Pan with questions. Marron would patiently listen and understand. Nevertheless, Videl, her own mother… she had to tell someone, and her mother had good advice regarding men in the past. Yes, her mother was the best bet at this point. She had often shared stories of crushes with her mom, but this wasn't a crush. What she felt seemed far more frightening and giddy then all the others.

 

Yet she would have to tell her father about what had just happened. He deserved to know she had reached Super Saiyan. Perhaps he would not be so protective. Then she winced, dragging a brush through her hair and sighed. “No way, pan, are you nuts? If you tell Dad or uncle Goten, they'll just remind you not to get ahead of yourself! Besides, it's something I have to do. They don't want me overdoing it… no, it's better if it stays a secret till I can handle it.”

 

“Better if what stays a secret?” asked Gohan. Pan yelped and dropped her brush. Angrily she glared at her father standing there, wearing of all things a replica of her grandfather's gi.

 

“Dad, you scared the hell out of me!” Pan blinked. “How did I fail to see you there? I couldn't sense you! Dang it!”

 

`I'm sorry Pan. Mom's downstairs fixing dinner, and I just wanted to catch up with you. You seemed like you trained really hard and I just wanted to know if you needed to talk?”

 

“Talk... sure… what about?” she stammered, worrying what he wanted to know. She sat down on the bed and her father lowered himself to sit next to her.

 

“I'm just wondering if you wanted to let me know how your training with your Grandpa went. Did it help you feel better? More in control?”

 

“It sure did, Dad. It was… intense. Grandpa had Uub and me both coming at him and…” she began. However when she saw her father's expression intensify, she faltered. Whenever he wore that analytical frown, she knew that he was probing her story from all sides like the scientist he was.

 

“Your energy level's gone up, Pan. You should keep it back a few notches,” said her father.

 

“Dad, don't start that again,” she sighed. “Look, it was just training. I didn't lose control and I didn't take on more than I could handle…”

 

“Honey I didn't come up her to lecture you. I trust Grandpa of all people. It's just that I want to make sure you're all right in OTHER ways. You seem a lot more focused. And it makes me feel reassured on some level but more worried on others,” Gohan said.

 

“Dad, don't freak out. I can handle it. I'm not going to do something insane like chase down Trunks and get my revenge,” she grumbled.

 

“Good. Glad to hear it. I just wanted to make sure that you were training for the right reasons. I know it seems like once you get your ki under control after what happened recently that your powers would all just work nicely. But I just wanted to know if there's something else you wanted to talk to me about that might have happened…”

 

“Why?” she asked. “You're losing me Dad.”

 

“Honey you can tell me anything. Don't hold back if there's something that you feel you need to tell me…” Gohan began. Pan's heart pounded as her mind raced to comprehend what he was inferring.

 

“But we were training and nothing happened… I mean something did happen but… it was all so new and I…”

 

“Honey, you actually did it?” asked Gohan, his eyes widening. Pan flinched, steeling herself for the dad from hell lecture regarding young men and their intentions. How could he know what she had felt for Uub, and that she herself had only just learned from overhearing a conversation not meant for anyone else's ears? Had she sensed the spike in energy, or had he noticed how awkward she seemed when Uub was around lately?

 

“It was an accident! I know I'm your daughter but I am an adult, and it's natural to have such feelings okay,” she began.

 

“Honey, I know the first time you become a Super Saiyan seems like an accident, but it's an incredible achievement!” Gohan said as he grasped her hand and squeezed it.

 

“Huh?” Pan answered in confusion, her mind shutting down for a quick pause.

 

“It's nothing to be ashamed of. I never thought I'd see it anytime soon, but since your Uncle Goten could do it… and yet…” Gohan chuckled, his face filled with wonder and his eyes gleaming with pride. “But just because it happened once, you still have to learn HOW to trigger it…”

 

“Yes, that's it! I was scared that you'd be worried I couldn't handle going super Saiyan,” Pan confessed with relief. Better he suspect that was what she was alluding to. How could she have been so suspicious to think he could even suspect that she was attracted to her father's own student? Especially in the wake of her narrow slip with Trunks. She had feared he would never allow any male who wasn't related to her near her ever again. Family friend or not.

 

Just outside the window hovered Uub, his face tense with what he overheard. While he knew it was impolite to spy, he couldn't help himself. Concern for Pan overrode his better judgment of etiquette, and he hated to think that he had been caught doing something inappropriate. Through the gap in the venetian blinds, he could glimpse Pan with her back to him, and Gohan's face visible above her lovely cascade of straight black hair. To Uub it was a gorgeous site, for he couldn't stop admiring her since the day he realized his true feelings.

 

Through the window, his hearing was sensitive enough to discern their conversation. At first, he tensed in readiness in case Gohan mentioned anything about what he had revealed to Goku. At the sound of the words, "Super Saiyan," his dark eyes blinked in confusion. So THAT was what Gohan suspected? Of course, he would have sensed the massive jump in Pan's newly ascended state. There was little anyone could do to hide the ki signature exploding like a searchlight or flare for miles. Even Piccolo and Dende must have sensed it, not to mention Vegeta and his family. Thoughts of Trunks caused his stomach to turn, while his hands automatically formed tight fists. The sudden crackle of power alerted him he should cool down and stop hovering outside her window.

 

Little did he know that Gohan did much the same thing years ago outside Videl's balcony, at the Satan Mansion? Before Gohan could peer over Pan's shoulder Uub clamped his power down to zero and levitated back towards the upper patio in the shade of the trees. Blue and red gi belonging to Goku and himself dangled on the twin lines near the second floor landing. It functioned as a rooftop area where Chichi could pause in her work to poke her head outside and check the world. Actually, perform her morning calisthenics without venturing far from the house.

 

She always found something to occupy her time, whether it was chatting to Videl or Bulma, as well as working as a midwife for the local villagers. Her knowledge of herbal medicine helped cure many a sick person. Something she had fallen back on when raising two boys in a remote location. In many ways, she reminded Uub of his own mother, and it was easier to remain here for long periods of training away from his family. Fortunately, he had called them to let them know he was staying with the Sons again.

 

"What do I have to worry about," he chuckled. "I'm not the one who forced myself on her. I should get a hold of myself and stop worrying. If Goku's all right with how I feel then I hope Gohan…"

 

Trunks somberly slid the door of his closet aside to hunt for what Vegeta told him to. He strode into the vast darkness lined with racks of suits, casual clothes, and other items, not bothering to turn on the light. Rather he left the door open wide enough so the crack cast a beam long enough for him to walk along towards the back. There sat a stack of boxes filled with items he hadn't used in years. With the exception of the sword belt hanging up which he'd used on the trip to get the black star dragon balls, the other items were covered in thick layers of dust.

 

"There it is. I didn't figure I'd be wearing this stuff myself," he muttered, reaching for the top plastic box and setting it down to the side. For a time he looked back at the sword still in its sheath, something he had since childhood. When someone he thought of as a brother had entrusted it to him and he thought of it as an honor.

 

"I've gone soft," Trunks laughed bitterly. Photos of his alternate self hung in the house along with other family portraits. He had seen enough of them to notice the oddity of himself as a baby, held in the arms of a youth who was his twin only superficially. Grasping the belt of the sword, he set the item on top of the storage box and lifted it so he could carry it out of the closet.

 

Once in his room again, his eyes fell upon the family pictures sitting on tables. At his bedside was a recent portrait of Marron, peeking from beneath a sunhat while facing slightly away from the camera. Her mother had taken her for a series of professional portraits so Marron could use them to apply for a modeling career. It brought a nice amount of income into a family that hardly hurt from it. Considering 18 still entered several of the tournaments the prize money she won was enough to keep Krillin's family in the red for years to come. Yet Marron wanted her own career and her own identity free of her parents. She herself insisted on paying for college, and for her share of dinner on their first dates. Such fierce independence came from her mother's side and from her father's as well.

 

They continued to live at Kami house, though they had another home on the mainland where they lived while Krillin worked in a karate Dojo that he had recently opened. Krillin hated the idea of losing any edge as a fighter, and enjoyed working with children of many ages. Some of his students even competed with those of Mr. Satan's dojo. Pan's grandfather welcomed the challenge of other martial arts schools. Even Yamcha had gotten in on the act and taught his own students now and again when he wasn't pursuing his baseball career or starring in films.

 

"Uncle Yamcha the actor," Trunks chuckled, seeing his picture on the wall in the 'old crowd' that Bulma had known from her younger days. They all stood outside Kame house around Master Roshi, posing with people Trunks hardly saw anymore. To the left he spotted an early family portrait, complete with his father standing in a usual huff, and his 'other' self.

 

"I'm not him, and I'll never be," Trunks frowned. Yet he couldn't help but think he was a disappointment to some who had known his other self. At these thoughts, he growled and tossed the sword in its sheath onto the nearby bed. He opened the clothing box and let the lid drop on the carpeted floor with a soft thud. Light gleamed off the curved white surface of a suit of armor his mother had made for him when he would be old enough to wear it. It was no secret she had measured his alternate self as the pattern. Vegeta had an identical set but today was the first time in years he had seen his father don it.

 

Reaching for the smooth breastplate, he lifted it out of its home, resting atop a folded blue bodysuit near a set of gloves and boots to match. He turned it over, admiring his mother's handiwork and felt the weight of the garment in his hands. Really, he loathed wearing it because he was sure that people would automatically find him wanting.

 

"It's just a suit of armor," he convinced himself, setting it down next to the sword on his bed. His clothes whispered to the floor as Trunks changed into the flexible undergarment. Father made it all too clear that he expected Trunks to be properly dressed for a father son sparring session, and a long overdue lesson in Saiyan rituals.

 

"I won't be caught off guard this time," Trunks promised himself as he hefted the breastplate over his head. The flexible hard material molded easily to his chest, and he seated his feet in the matching boots. Next to the picture of Marron sat the final touch, a pair of pristine white gloves. As he slid them on, he admired his fiancée in the mirror. It was for her he was doing this. Moreover, for Pan. Anger surged through him, along with self-loathing. She would never forgive him for what he had done, and this was only a tiny step in the direction of atonement.

 

"For Marron, love, and for Pan. I won't fail you again," he vowed, jerking on the gloves. Lifting the picture by its frame, he memorized the face of the girl he loved, and set it done once more. She had forgiven him too easily, he lamented.

 

"Trunks get your ass down here, boy! Haven't you taken long enough to get ready for a simple sparring session?" boomed his father's voice. Snapping to attention, Trunks rushed to the door of his room and halfway down the hall.

 

"Dad, I'm coming!" he shouted back.

 

Judging from the reverberation and the direction of the sound, Vegeta was standing in the main vaulted staircase of the large mansion. Around it like a snail's shell spiraled the various floors and Trunks suite of rooms was on the third floor, just upstairs from the floor his parents occupied with their chambers, and downstairs from Bra's on the fourth floor. The first floor displayed the vast sitting room, dining area, and library. Other buildings radiated out from around it, including the chamber that held Bulma's laboratory complex. Another outbuilding housed the training complex complete with indoor gravity chamber, showers, and lockers with workout clothing.

 

Indeed when he peered over the railing down three flights, he saw his father impatiently standing, tapping one booted foot as he glared up towards the landing. "Took you long enough, Trunks," he snorted. Memories flashed through Trunks mind seeing his father at a remote distance and he leapt over the rail so he could levitate to his father's level.

 

"Sorry Father. I'm ready when you are," Trunks said, swallowing any trepidation. "But this ritual doesn't just involve sparring."

 

"No, but for you to more clearly understand, it's customary for the participants to be appropriately attired. And since this is the only armor we now possess…" Vegeta trailed off.

 

Trunks nodded, and followed his father down the corridor towards the training area. His heart pounded with excitement and trepidation, on the brink of learning far more about his culture from his own father, something he had long desired, but had pushed aside as less important over the years.

 

Now thanks to the invasion of his grandfather King Vegeta's soul, vast amounts of knowledge and memories forced into Trunks brain. Still they remained ingrained in his mind, after the absence of his grandsire's ghost. Literally, he had turned Trunks world inside out, and dumped it quailing like jelly back into a space that seemed inadequate to house it. Badly shaken, Trunks could barely make sense of who he now was, save what first came to mind. All things he suppressed, not wanting to show any more weakness before his father.