Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ True Love Never Dies ❯ Reunion ( Chapter 3 )

Disclaimer: Once upon a time, a poor young woman somehow gained the rights to DragonBallZ. Then she awoke to find that she owns nothing of any value. Woot...

A/N: To all my reviewers: you guy rock! Thank you for all the input! To everyone: I really hope you enjoy!

True Love Never Dies

Chapter 3: Reunion

Even now, he could almost hear her calling, begging him not to turn away. Her soft lips quivered as those beautiful blue eyes filled with tears.

Gohan heaved a sigh, rubbed his eyes to ward off memories of his next words in this repeating dream, “But you chose this destiny,” not wanting to remember the heartache it brought to her eyes and his heart, even if it was only a dream. Instead of dwelling on the dream he had memorized years earlier, he took another sip of his coffee and returned to scanning the headlines of the Satan City Daily Tribune:

Orange Star High Reunion This Weekend

Seeing the headline, Gohan paused his skimming to read the article before setting the paper aside, taking another drink of coffee. “Hard to believe it's been ten years,” he mused to his empty plate.

Gohan then forcibly shook away his reminiscing about a youth well wasted and the love contained therein. Today was Saturday, and the yard certainly was not going to mow itself.

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As the sun rose to it's peak, Gohan squinted against the direct rays to carefully trim the unruly, excess branches on the shrubs lying underneath his windows. After giving the shrub he had been trimming what he hoped would be a last snip, Gohan stepped back to scrutinize his work. “Maybe that one last branch,” he commented as he stepped forward to give the final cut. Of course, as luck would have it, the ringing of his telephone caused Gohan's hands to pause with the blades of his shears gently touching the sides of the limb.

“Coming,” he muttered to himself, setting aside his shears and heading inside to answer before the fourth ring and his answering machine. “Moshi, moshi!” he answered in a business tone. “Son residence.”

“Uh, good afternoon, Mister Son,” a young male voice answered. “I'm sorry to bother you on a Saturday, but I was having issues with the assignment you gave us yesterday. I spent all night staring at it and I still just don't get it at all.”

After heaving a long sigh to gain patience, Gohan set about once again reiterating his lesson on the importance of Sun Tzu's The Art of War throughout Asian history until he was sure not even his father could avoid understanding the information. Besides, Cho was one of his regular callers. Some students could take any of his classes and perform beautifully without asking a single question. Others felt they had to call or e-mail their professor at least once for every assignment and even more so before any test. Cho definitely fell into the latter category. Not that Gohan was one to complain. His job was, after all, to ensure the education of any student who actually wished to gain it in his class.

With the phone once again at home in its cradle, Gohan moved to pull a glass from a cabinet and poured himself a glass of iced water. Things had certainly changed immensely since his youth and the days of his fighting for justice. Now, about the most exciting thing in his mediocre life was when Goten brought over his latest girlfriend to meet the family. Then again, that was pretty much exactly the type of life Gohan preferred. Years spent on the edge of death, destruction and the doom of his planet had given the near thirty college professor a unique perspective on what most would consider a dull life. He had experienced enough excitement to last him six lifetimes. Sometimes boring was more than a little preferable.

Gulping down the cold water, Gohan was once again interrupted by the ringing of his telephone. With the last of his water drained from the glass, he placed the now empty glass into his sink before moving toward the telephone, muttering, “C'mon Cho. I know you can get this stuff,” as he reached to answer his phone again. “Moshi, moshi. Son residence.”

“Gohan?” a soft, yet strong feminine voice asked.

Frowning in confusion at not recognizing the voice, Gohan replied. “Yes, this is Doctor Son Gohan. How may I help you?”

The stranger on the other end of the line chuckled softly. “Congratulations on your degree. I know it's more than a little overdue, but sincerely meant just the same.”

“I'm sorry, miss, but do I know you?” Gohan questioned, a deep furrow appearing between his eyebrows.

“I'm sorry. It has been a while since we last spoke,” the voice answered. “Gohan, it's me: Videl.”

A/N: Yes, I know this was a short chapter with an evil cliffhanger. I was at one time going to run this chapter into the next one, but I decided to do an evil cliffy instead. I hope you don't hate me too much. Lol. Catch ya'll next chapter! Peace and Out!