Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Revisiting Yesterday ❯ Prologue

Disclaimer: Nope…not mine, as much as I wished I owned the Bishounen of DBZ especially Mirai Trunks, well sadly they're not mine unless you count the 53 action figures…err…that's besides the point, but um, Dragonball/Z/GT belongs to Akira Toriyama, Toei Animation, Funimation and others…Nope, not mine.

Special thanks to dbz obsessedfor beta-ing ^_^

Revisiting Yesterday

Prologue - Love Is

By: Ember Maxximus

Love is not black, nor white. Love has no prejudices. Love knows no boundaries. Love knows no discrimination. Love is blind. Love is beautiful. Love can hurt. Love can hurt more than any imaginable pain, leaving an all-consuming empty void in its wake. That, love can do. I am love's witness.

He was the sun, the air, the moon; he was a friend, a teacher, and a confidant. He was my world; he was my everything. We. And when I speak of we, I speak of people and of society. We take things for granted; the sun, the air the moon…love. Not knowing today could be the last, not appreciating all of life's simple joys. What if? What if tomorrow were to arrive without the golden chariot of the blazing sun or the life enabling oxygen in tow? We would cease to exist. I would slowly dwindle into oblivion; fade into nothingness.

For nearly twenty years, I've been fading and I've been dwindling. Almost twenty years have gone by since his death and not a single day passes that I do not think of him; his tousled black hair, friendly coal eyes, and gentle soul.

The world is a better place because of his guidance, intervention, and his love. Jinzounugen Junana-gou and Juhachi-gou are destroyed. They were terminated a decade ago by my own hands and now Chikyuu is slowly, but surely returning to her former glory. Mom always had faith the planet would flourish again, I wish she were here to witness her dreams turned reality, to see the fruits of her labor. The price, a terrible price to pay, paid in the blood of Chikyuu's finest warriors. Her time machine made it possible for me to gain the strength to change the world and create a better way of life, where we could live without fear and strive for love and happiness.

Love. Happiness. Over the years, those two words have slowly been weaned from my vocabulary. He was my love, my happiness and as time fades, my sentiment does as well. I would give anything to see him once more; Gohan, to have him back for just ten minutes would be a joyous event. I truly miss him. My greatest regret is not being able to bid him goodbye properly, before he was so abruptly stolen from my life. I would do anything to embrace him farewell, to hold him in my arms and imprint his forgotten scent into my memories, but this wishful thinking is only that and could never be.

I loved him. I still love him. I never fully realized the depths my love for him until after he was gone. His death brought about a melancholy in me that has been my only companion since his departure. From that instant things changed, the sun never seemed to shine as bright. There was always a bitterness accompanying everything as if he took a piece of my soul to the grave with him. So, what does that mean, that I'm in love with a memory of a dead man, a ghost? That my only joys derive from fanciful reveries of pressing my cheek to his beating heart while tracing lazy circles through the light path of dark hair on his chiseled stomach.

What does that say about me? I live in a world null of violence and humanity thrives in rebuilt cities. I live in a world where peace reigns supreme, and every man, woman, and child has a roof overhead, hot meals, and clean water. I exist in an ideal society. Capsules Corporation is growing faster than ever, always the leader in technology. I'm revered as a hero. Believe it or not, there is actually a global holiday named in my honor with fireworks and the whole nine yards. So, why am I so miserable?

I took to the skies; it has been the norm for me as of late in vain efforts to soothe my somnolent soul. If only I could see him once more, to have a kindred spirit that understands me as man, as a warrior; a kindred spirit that understands me as me. Is that too much to ask for? Is it wrong for me to dwell on the past like this? My life has become unreservedly idle; the days bleed into each other. I crave for a single morsel of joy, a scrap of happiness, anything to end this monotonous circle of sadness.

Nothing good will come of it… My subconscious' voice softly echoes, through my head. Shot down, before I even get my wings off the ground. I've come to loathe that little voice, barely audible and always there, forever pushing at me to do what's right and to do what's best. Always, the little angel grasping the fingers of my thoughts guiding me down the path of righteousness. For once I wish to refuse, to slap away those virtuous fingers and do as I want.

Paradox… Better judgment sighs, the thought like whispers dancing in the wind through the halls of my mind. I would change nothing, I argue. Could one last goodbye be that detrimental? What harm could a single conversation between student and sensei hold? The opportunity to say farewell is all I want to soothe my tired spirit. Maybe that is all I need to alter my hollow existence. Anything but the alternative, anything but this.

My flight led me home, to the massive domed building of Capsule Corporation. Down the steps I walked to the laboratory and to the time machine hidden beneath a dingy white covering. It would only take a few hours of maintenance and preparation to rouse "Hope" from her decade long slumber. I could leave as early as sunrise. Then it is decided, my visit to yesterday is only a day away.

~EM