Disclaimer: DB/Z/GT do not belong to me. At least, I don't think they do . . . let's take a vote; all who say DBZ belongs to me, raise his or her hand! *looks around* Only one hand, and that's . . . never mind, that's just my sister's Vegeta action figure and he doesn't know anything. So I guess it's not mine. ^_^
A/N: Don't even try to ask why I wrote this -- I've been in a really dark mood lately, with (lemme' count) 6 fics on the go, 3 of them posted, and none of them finished, and one of them is a dark, depressing, violent, etc. story that wouldn't put anyone in a good mood to write. To top it off, I've been sick for quite some time now.
This was basically a combination of my desperate need for comedy in the midst of my (quite formidable) anger, and as a compromise. This story was supposed to be a Goku/ChiChi romance dealing with the issue of Goku staying away for so long, but it got heavy and depressing. So, hence the idea came for me to write it from Gohan's perspective. It made it much lighter and more entertaining, I think. That's why the issue is addressed in one of the scenes.... basically, this is a comedy with a bit of seriousness in it for a little while.
The rest of the story is silly, I admit, but so is little Gohan. He's so adorably clueless, and when you foil that against Piccolo's world-weary cynicism, it creates the perfect scenario for the scenes you're about to read -- especially the final one.
I hope you enjoy reading this. I really, really needed to write it, and for those of you used to my angsty stories, this might be a pleasant change. It's the first time I've attempted to write something completely lighthearted since "Like Father, Like Daughter -- Saiyajin Style."
Enough chatter. Read on!
What is Going On?
Dad's back, Daddy's back, la, la, la, la, la!" Son Gohan sang to himself
happily, as he, Piccolo, and his father flew to Mt. Paozu. It was a year and a
half since the ordeal on Namekusei, and a few hours ago Furiza had been
defeated by a strange, lavender-haired warrior . . . and now, Dad was coming
home! Gohan hadn't had a more perfect day in a long time.
Dad laughed at Gohan's
impromptu song, and he reached over and ruffled his son's unruly hair.
"That's right, big guy. And I'm here to stay this time. No more dying or
going off into space again. It'll be you and me again."
Mom," Gohan interjected, "And Mister Piccolo."
"And Mom, and
Piccolo," Dad corrected himself, shooting a grin at the latter. The
Namekusejin ignored them completely, but Gohan didn't care. He knew Piccolo
well enough that he could tell when his friend was trying not to smile.
"Speaking of Mom, how is she?"
Gohan gave a little
shrug. "Strong," he replied, "She's been trying to be strong
since you left, but she still misses you," the little boy burst into a
wide, infectious smile. "Boy, will she be happy to see you, Daddy!"
so," Dad nodded affirmatively, but there was something funny about his
tone of voice that made Gohan look at him. Dad's face had gone serious all of a
sudden, and he frowned at nothing that Gohan could see. "It's been a long
time since I've seen her. Has she changed at all?"
"No. Just as
loud and obnoxious as ever," Piccolo snorted. "She actually tried to
hit me with a frying pan the other day."
Dad burst out
laughing, and the care lines disappeared from his face to be replaced by an
expression that resembled pride. "That's my ChiChi, all right," he
chuckled. "Well, I'm glad she hasn't changed. With all these enemies
coming and going and everything moving so fast, it's nice to have something
safe to come home to."
"Not the word
I would use to describe her."
Piccolo," Dad rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean! ChiChi is
somebody I can always count on, that's all."
Gohan smiled, and
he moved close to his father. Dad put his arm around him, holding Gohan to his
side, and Gohan felt tears come to his eyes. He'd forgotten what it was like to
be held by his father, to feel his strong arms around him and to smell his
scent, like the mountains. It was comforting. "I dreamed you came back
last night, Daddy."
Dad raised his
"Yeah. Mom was
in it, too. You said hi, and then asked what was for supper, and you went in
through the window, and Mom didn't even yell at you!"
"I didn't hug
her or anything, huh?" the funny look came over Dad's face again.
Dad looked determined all of a sudden, and he gave Gohan a squeeze.
"That's not gonna' happen this time."
A while later, they
landed in front of Gohan's house. Dad set Gohan on his shoulders, and he
glanced around, a big smile on his face as he looked at the trees and the
grass, and the smoke coming out of the chimney. "I've missed this place,
ya' know," he sighed happily.
but Gohan detected the faintest hint of a smile on his face. It was nothing
anybody else would be able to see, though. "If you're going to go all
mushy and sentimental on me, I'm leaving."
stop," Dad laughed. Putting his hands on either side of his mouth, he
shouted, "Hey, honey? I'm back!"
did I tell you about flying off -- Goku? Is that you?" came Mom's voice
from inside the house, at first sharp and accusatory, then breathless and
excited. The front door swung open with a bang, then Mom all but flew out of
the house, running straight into Dad and flinging her arms around his neck.
"Goku! You're finally back!"
Gohan cried as his mother's embrace knocked him off his father's shoulders, but
Piccolo caught him before he hit the ground. "Whoa, Mom!" Gohan
whispered in awe, "You did miss him, didn't you!"
Piccolo put Gohan down, and Gohan leaned against Piccolo's leg, grinning at his
Dad was laughing
and he spun Mom around, Mom still clinging fiercely to his neck. "Of
course I'm back, hon!" Dad exclaimed, finally setting her down. "I
said I would, didn't I?"
Mom smiled, then
she did something completely unexpected; she threw her arms around him again
and kissed him. Dad almost fell over in surprise, but then he just kissed her
back. Both of them completely ignored their audience.
crazily, glad his father hadn't walked in with barely a hello like he had in
his dream, and he hugged Piccolo in excitement. Piccolo, meanwhile, looked
extremely uncomfortable. Curious, Gohan hissed, "How do they breathe when
they do that, Mister Piccolo?"
me," Piccolo muttered back. "I don't want to know."
At last, Mom pulled
away, and she looked happier than Gohan had seen her in years. "I've
missed you, Goku!" she proclaimed, "It's been so long! I kept making
too much food, expecting you to be home for dinner."
"I know, and
I'm sorry," Dad's face got all frowny, and he played with the strands of
hair that hung down at the sides of Mom's face. "But I couldn't help it. I
had to stay on Yardrat to learn a --"
heard," Mom's face fell for a second. "You should have seen the looks
on everyone's faces, when you said you didn't want to come back. They all
thought I was a horrible wife and you didn't want me anymore," Gohan's
eyes widened at this, and he prepared to fly off and beat up anyone who had
made his mother feel so upset, but Piccolo rested a heavy hand on his shoulder
in admonition. Gohan screwed up his face in annoyance, but stayed where he was.
Dad touched Mom's
chin with one finger, looking at her. The expression on his face was one Gohan
only vaguely remembered from before the entire ordeal with the Saiyajins -- one
that looked like Dad thought Mom was the prettiest girl on the planet.
"That's not true. You should know that."
Mom chose not to
reply to that, instead forcing a smile. "Well, I'm just glad you're
back," she declared, taking Dad's face in her hands and kissing him again.
"I think I'm
going to be sick," Piccolo grumbled, and Gohan laughed. Piccolo's cheeks
were turning purple, and Gohan hadn't seen his friend so embarrassed in his
Dad probably heard
him, because he pulled back, holding Mom's wrists. "Hey, ChiChi, Gohan and
Piccolo are watching, remember?"
Hurt spasmed across
Mom's face, and she nodded, prying Dad's hands off her wrists. "That's
right. I'm sorry, you two," she apologized, but that look was
still on her face; the one like she was going to cry.
we don't mind," Gohan chirped, and he elbowed Piccolo in the knee. "Do
we, Mister Piccolo?"
caught the hint, and he shook his head, though he glanced at Gohan oddly.
"Nah. I think I'm going to go meditate, though," he patted Gohan on
the head, then sent Dad a little smile. "Good to see you back, Son."
Dad saluted him, and they watched Piccolo walk away.
Gohan flicked his
gaze between his parents, and a tiny smile worked its way across his face.
"I think I'll go inside and clean up," he told them, then skipped
inside the house. Once inside, however, Gohan levitated a few feet in the air
and peeked through the window in the door and watched.
Dad was saying
something to Mom, and it looked like Mom was crying. Dad put his hand on Mom's
shoulder and was talking insistently to her, an apologetic look on his face,
but Mom just turned her head away. Gohan frowned, puzzled, but then Dad cupped
Mom's chin in one hand and kissed her. When they finally pulled away, Mom was
Gohan whispered ecstatically, clenching his fist. "Way to go, Daddy!"
A few minutes
later, Gohan's parents got into a fight. Well, it wasn't really a fight, since
it basically detailed Mom yelling at Dad and Dad trying to placate her, but
Gohan was still nervous. He didn't want his parents to be strangers, he wanted
them to be Mom and Dad again. He didn't want Mom to yell at Dad, or Dad to run
off and train. He thought it was a little jumpy of his mother to fly off the
handle like that, but Gohan had thought Dad would wait at least a few days
before springing news of the jinzouningen on Mom.
Supper was eaten in
silence, and through the entire meal, Gohan worried -- so much, in fact, that
he only had two helpings of everything. Fortunately, since Dad scarfed down
everything else, this went unnoticed. Afterwards, Dad suggested that he and
Gohan clean up the dishes, since one of Mom's arms was in a sling. Mom looked a
little surprised, but nodded.
Gohan said nothing
as he dried the dishes, standing on a stool so he could reach the sink. He
glanced over at his father, and saw that he was scowling thoughtfully, washing
the same plate over and over again. Gohan finally poked him, and Dad grinned
quickly at him and moved on to the next plate. The thoughtful look was still on
his face, though.
Once all the dishes
were cleaned and put away, Gohan hopped down from his stool and sat back down
at the table. He had the feeling something was going to happen, and he watched
silently, hoping his parents would forget he was there. Sure enough, Dad went
to stand behind Mom's chair, and he placed his hands on her shoulders. Mom
looked up at him quizzically.
if Gohan stayed home and studied on weekends?" Dad said slowly. "If I
didn't need him for this battle, I wouldn't ask him to train at all. You know
that. But since I do, how about if he stayed home at nights and on weekends?"
A funny expression
crossed Mom's face, and she got to her feet. "That's fine, Goku, but . . .
what about you?"
Something in Dad's
face softened, and he put one hand on Mom's waist. "I'd come home with
him. There's no question about that. I can't train all the time, now can
Mom's face broke
out into a brilliant smile, and a tear ran down her cheek. She sniffled and
wiped it away. "I guess . . . that would be all right," she agreed.
good," Dad slipped his arms around her and pulled her close, then he
tilted his face down and kissed her. Gohan grinned to himself as Mom
practically melted against Dad, wrapping her good arm around his neck. Dad
reached up and pulled the ribbon out of her bun, and he ran his fingers through
her long, black hair.
It was weird, Gohan
thought to himself as he watched them. He'd never seen his parents show this
much affection toward each other in one day before . . . he remembered them
kissing a few times, when he was really little, but nothing like this.
And then, he
understood. Dad hadn't been home to see Mom since he before had been killed by
Radditsu, when Gohan was four -- he had been in hospital for a while before
going to Namekusei, but that didn't count. Gohan's parents hadn't been able to
spend time with each other for over three years. No wonder they were so happy
to see each other!
Gohan tilted his
chair back, propping his feet up on the table, and he laced his fingers behind
his head. He knew most other boys his age would gross out and probably run out
of the room if their parents kissed in front of them, but he was different. It
makes Mom happy, Gohan thought, And that hasn't happened for a
long time. I'm not gonna' be a brat and wreck it by yelling "Ew!" at
stepped back half a pace, and he turned to look at Gohan, almost like he just
noticed he was there. "Hey, Gohan, do you want to stay with Piccolo
but Mom stiffened in Dad's arms and tried to pull away. "What?" she
demanded, looking betrayed. It looked like she felt Dad had kissed her just so
she wouldn't get mad at him.
Dad quirked an eyebrow at her, and Gohan wondered just what his father was
getting at. A funny look lit up his face; mischievous and playful, almost, like
he was making some secret joke that only he and Mom knew. "It's been so
long -- let him stay with Piccolo just this once, huh?"
Mom gasped, and all
of a sudden her face flamed a bright red. Dad just grinned again, almost evilly
this time, and once more Gohan got the impression that he'd missed something.
"Please?" Dad added.
this once," Mom's voice was almost breathless, and it made her sound like
she was a teenager. She glanced over at Gohan, and waved him off with a little
movement of her hand. "Go on, sweetie. Go play with Piccolo."
exultant whoop of joy, Gohan tore out of the house. The last thing he saw as he
glanced back over his shoulder was Dad sweeping Mom up into his arms and
carrying her out of the kitchen, both of them laughing.
are funny," Gohan chuckled.
Gohan chirped, glancing up at his sensei. Piccolo was sitting,
cross-legged, on the forest floor with Gohan beside him, his head propped up on
"It's late. Go
sleepy," Gohan shot back, covering a yawn with his hand and grinning
sheepishly. "I wanna' ask you something."
away," Piccolo looked down at him, frowning sternly. "Doesn't mean I
have to answer."
Gohan laughed, and
he inclined his head in the direction of the house. "Why do you think Mom
and Dad are gross when they start kissing? I think it's kind of nice."
For a few seconds,
the only sounds that Gohan could hear were those of nocturnal creatures; birds,
bats, insects, and small mammals, scurrying or flying about in the forest. He
was about to ask why Piccolo wasn't answering when the Namekusejin spoke up on
his own. His mentor's voice was thick with embarrassment. "I'm a
Namekusejin, Gohan. I don't understand the need for such . . . erhm . . .
physical contact. It makes me uncomfortable. It's not that I think they're
particularly 'gross', but . . . ehh . . . I don't see the use of it.
Sentimentality and all that nonsense."
Gohan raised his
eyebrows and grinned, and he scrambled up to wrap his arms around Piccolo's
neck. "This is sentimental, and you don't mind it when I hug you," he
pointed out, beaming triumphantly.
and he pried Gohan's arms off him, plopping the boy into his lap and ruffling
his hair. "That's different, kid, and besides; you know what I'd do to you
if you did that in public."
snickered, for it had taken a long time for Piccolo to accept Gohan's hugs in
private, much less in front of others. A wicked idea came into his mind, and he
smiled up at Piccolo angelically. "Oh yeah? What if I kiiiiiiissed
widened until the point that they resembled dinner plates, and with a silent whoosh,
his cheeks turned a bright purple in a matter of seconds. "You wouldn't
dare!" he bellowed, grabbing Gohan by the arm and holding him at arm's
length, looking at him like he was something nasty Piccolo had just sat on.
"You should know better than I do that you do NOT 'kiss' your teachers!
Gah, kid, that's disgusting! Please, tell me you weren't serious, or
I'll be forced to blow your head off!"
Gohan burst into a
fit of giggles that were unbecoming for one of the strongest fighters on the
planet, and soon he was gasping for breath. "You ... should ... see ...
your ... face ...!" he exploded with peals of laughter, squirming out of
Piccolo's grasp and rolling on the forest floor in hysterics. "I was just
An annoyed grunt
was Piccolo's response, then he kicked Gohan in the head, sending him sprawling
into a tree. Gohan picked himself up, still laughing quietly. "Okay, I
deserved that," he chuckled, coming back to sit by Piccolo again. "I
wouldn't really kiss you, Piccolo-san," he reassured his friend, patting
him on the knee. "Mom says I'm only supposed to kiss girls -- and only if
they're rich ones who went to a really nice college and will marry me and have
lots of grandchildren for Mom to play with."
A low chuckle
escaped Piccolo's lips before he could haul it back, and Gohan was relieved that
he wasn't going to get smacked again. "That definitely sounds like your
"Yeah. But I
don't think I'd mind a girl like that, even if I don't know any," Gohan
yawned again, snuggling up against Piccolo. "So I guess I'll have to wait
before I get a girlfriend."
Piccolo cuffed Gohan lightly on the head. "Because you're being
disgustingly mushy already, and you don't even have one yet. Gah! I
hate to see what you'll be like when you're 'head-over-heels', or whatever that
stupid expression is. It will be revolting, that's for sure."
Gohan giggled again
and closed his eyes, ready to sleep, but a mere few seconds later, Piccolo
stood up. "Get up, kid, we're sparring."
Gohan echoed in confusion, knuckling his eyes. "But I was just getting
He looked at
Piccolo curiously, and saw that his friend's cheeks were stained violet again.
Something had him embarrassed or uncomfortable, and his ears were twitching --
but Gohan didn't hear anything. "Is something the matter, Piccolo-san?"
for the first time in the years Gohan had known him. "G-Gohan, your
parents are . . ." he shook his head, the eyes-as-big-as-dinner-plates
thing happening again. Gohan wondered why he seemed to be missing everything
today. "Well, never mind. Let's just say they're distracting me."
not even here," Gohan stretched out his senses and found his parents' ki
forces, and he lifted an eyebrow. "Wow! Dad's energy level is really high.
Are he and Mom sparring, or what?"
"I SAID NEVER
MIND!!!" Piccolo roared, punching the unsuspecting Gohan in the face.
"Now are we going to spar or not?"
Eesh!" Gohan muttered, powering up and dropping into a fighting stance.
"I still don't see why they won't let me spar with them," he pouted
sullenly. "I'd probably get really strong."
Gohan. I mean it!"
Gohan shrugged and
launched an attack on Piccolo. He decided he was never going to understand
grownups until he was one, and that wouldn't be for a long time . . .
"Do you think
if I asked Mom and Dad nicely, they'd let me spar with them next time?" he
Piccolo paused in
forming a Makankousappou and buried his face in his hands.
"Gohan . . . please . . . just forget it, all right? You'll be much happier
if you do."
mean that you've sparred with them before?" Gohan folded his arms
indignantly. "Hey, that's not fair! How come you can and I can't?"
menacingly. "I ... do ... not ... 'spar' ... with ... your ...
parents!" he bit out between clenched fangs. "I don't need -- or want
-- to do anything of the sort, with them, or with anyone else."
gotcha'. But I think you're being a bit touchy, sir."
continued well into the wee hours of the morning, and the horizon was beginning
to be tinged a faint red by the time Piccolo called a halt. Gohan was ready to
collapse on shaky legs, and he climbed into Piccolo's lap, exhausted, not
caring that he was seven years of age and by rights, too old for such a childish
action. "Are they done now?" he murmured sleepily.
Gohan was drifting
off to sleep when a sudden thought struck him, and he spoke up again.
"Dad's ki was really high. Will you teach me to spar like he did? Please?
I wanna' get strong like that."
Maybe it's just me, but I found it rather funny. I'd love to see that look on Piccolo's face; I picture it similar to the one in the Buu Saga, when Goku offered to "set Kaioshin straight" about showing Piccolo a little more respect. ^-^ (If you haven't seen that scene, you should. It's funny!)
Oh, and if anyone reading this is also following any of my other in-progress fics ("Damsel in Distress? Not Likely!", "Deeper Than Colour -- The Kioku Story", and "Strangers"), please don't give up on me. They're coming, really they are! It's just . . . frustrating. Being ill really doesn't help my motivation, nor does my writer's block. The fifth chapter of "Deeper Than Colour" is actually close to being finished, so hopefully I'll have that out by the end of the week. (Eep! Don't jinx it, don't jinx it!)
Until next time . . .
Seishun shiteru no ni
Ichido kurai wa kekkon shite mambo mambo!