Dragon Ball Z 1. Prologue

The Years After

Prologue 

I used to love the winter season. The white snowflakes would remind me of things and people beautiful and precious to me like my family and friends. Snow is mystical in so many ways. You could almost forget where you where when you are caught in its presence. 

As I gathered the remaining bits of food in my garden, which was beginning to freeze over, I could almost hear my husband's voice in my ear asking for dinner. Goku loved food and never let anything go to waste, not even a grain of rice. Though piggish in someway, it was grateful in others.

            Only when the heart virus spread through his body he did not ask for food. He died so long ago that now my son is a man. I wait for Gohan to return to me with news, hopefully, of defeating the androids.

            _I'll be back, with those android monsters defeated! I promise._

That was what Gohan had told me the day before he left for the rest of my life.

            Butpromises are short lived. They always have been for me. Goku could never stay still for more than ten days and then he would leave without a word, leaving Gohan and I on our own for days at a time. He always returned smiling with dirty clothing, saying he was sorry. I've been told actions speak louder than words and in some ways I believe it.

            While the snows begin to fall over my head and onto the parched ground, I can feel myself falling too, thirsting for air and my family. For Gohan or for Goku I could not control their fates, only my response to it. For I am the wife and the mother they left behind. 


	2. Chapter One

The Years After  
  
Chapter One  
  
Author's Note: A few, saddening dark themes of how I imagined Mirai ChiChi's struggle with her husband's death, the Androids horrible crimes, and her son's death. This is how I imagined ChiChi's struggle, a short epic. Please read and review.  
  
Goku and I had married when we were both seventeen years old and a year later I gave birth to our first son, Gohan.  
Goku would often leave, but not in the way most men would do. He would leave silently at night through the window and turn up days later dirty and well worn with a smile always on his face. He lived to fight and to train and though I complained, I was happy when he was happy. Gohan mirrored his father in his eating habits and in his strength and I had tried to protect my boy from seeing the violence that his father had seen. I forced him to study, but Gohan was a bright boy, and learned so fast that occasionally I would give in and let him go romping off with his father.  
In the beginning Gohan was a nervous child and would often cling to his father's pant leg at the sight of small things, like when a fox would spring out of the bushes yards away on our weekly walks through the forest. In the end though, he become strong and fearless, do to the encouragement of his father and his mentor, Piccolo-san.  
I do sometimes regret that I didn't praise Gohan more for the great things he had done. I had always deep inside wanted a child who would need the doting of his mother. So I could be with my son and have a piece of my husband with me at all times.  
Gohan admired his father. Worshipped him really. I can't see why not, because Goku was always loving and caring to him. I don't know, and will never know, what it felt to Goku to be called "Daddy" affectionately by his only son.  
The day Goku became sick was a surprise, since only a month before I had become pregnant with his child. He was healthy and extremely athletic, ate well and was sheer muscle up and down his body. In the end, though, not even this could save him. He staggered home, his hand clutching the where his heart was, buried deep inside his chest. He was crying out in pain, blood seeping through his mouth and his nostrils. Gohan had helped carry his father, but Goku 's bulky form was too much for such a young child. It was so sudden and so shocking. He had seemed a little pale that morning.  
"ChiChi, I'm fine, really. I'll be back by the afternoon!" these were his words to me that same morning.  
"Dad is sick! MOTHER! Hurry!" Gohan had cried. Goku had collapsed on the ground, wheezing as I ran to them with my arms outstretched.  
"Gohan!" I had said sharply, fear banging in my chest. "Go fetch your grandfather! Please go quickly!"  
Gohan just stood there for a long moment, fear clouding his vision. He was only nine years old.  
"GOHAN!" I screamed, at the brink of hysterics. "HURRY!"  
Gohan had taken off towards my father's house as fast as he could, which was very fast. My father could easily contact Bulma and the others with his communication and Bulma's advice would be something I would need.  
I carried my husband into my house and laid him onto our bedroom pallet. He cried out, opening his eyes.  
"It hurts so bad.ChiChi.it hurts."  
I had never heard Goku whimper, his voice so sad, like a dying animal's cry. I laid a wet washcloth on his brow.  
"Goku, I'm here. I know it hurts."  
I held his hand and tended to him as best I could. I had no good medicine and to fetch vervain to cool the fever or herbs to reduce the pain would take too much time. In my husband's dying hours, I would need to be with him.  
"Is Gohan.alright?" my husband stammered. Even in Goku 's dying state he was thinking about others.  
My father, Bulma with her baby son Trunks, and Gohan all came quickly to my side. Bulma had brought medicine to help the pain and cease palpitations while Gohan, my smart little son, had brought some vervain from the grove I sometimes used in the woods.  
I quickly got down to work with Bulma 's help. We put Trunks to sleep in Gohan's bedroom and for nearly four hours Goku writhed with pain. In the end, towards night, though, nothing could save Goku.  
Bulma sensed this and left to stand outside with her baby son to distract herself. My father went outside too and Gohan and I stood by Goku's side. Blood was seeping out of his mouth, wetting the pillow his head rested on. Gohan, sensing his father's waning spirit, left the room with his head bowed.  
"It.hurts." Goku moaned.  
"Shhhhh, my darling," I whispered. "I know."  
I climbed in with my husband for one last time. I wrapped my arms around his neck and although he was too weak to return the gesture, he sighed.  
"Thank.you.Chi...."  
Tears were blurring my vision as I held him in my arms, my forehead pressed against his. Why must Kami do this to such a forgiving and kind man? I now felt weak and grieved, even though Goku hadn't even left yet.  
"I love you, Goku-san. You can never know how much. Please, wait for me in the afterlife. Please wait."  
His heart fluttered until midnight when it stopped. I could feel his body relax in my arms. I fell asleep there with him for one last time.  
When I had awoken, there was blood everywhere, where it had seeped up from his body in its departing gesture. When a body dies, it lets loose of all its held. The blood from his bowl and lungs had come out through his mouth and his nostrils, covering my dress, the sheets, and even floor below the bed. I didn't care that I was drenched in my husband's blood and that his cold body was in my arms. I could hear a wailing all around me and I held his body to me tightly and wept.  
I didn't realize, until Gohan, Bulma, and my father rushed into the room with tears streaming down their faces that the wailing was mine. 


	3. Chapter Two

The Years After Chapter Two 

The days after Goku 's death were dark for me and I went through them in a bleary conscious. Bulma, Yamcha, Tien, Chiaozu, Piccolo, and even Vegeta turned up for mourning and the spreading of Goku 's ashes. Vegeta, being the way he was, sat away from us all, arms crossed, brow furrowed. He left only after an hour of seeing our tears.

            Gohan, my father the Ox King, and I wanted to cremate Goku 's remains. We spread his ashes through the woods he loved and set up a memorial of beautiful polished stone written in Kanji of Goku's name and birth, what he did and life and who he left behind. Bulma ordered it for us and paid for it herself.

            Bulma and I scrubbed the house of the dank smell it had given off in the days after Goku died. It soon began to smell a little better and I cooked a huge meal for all of the guests, but my mind was clouded so badly that the curry came out bitter and the rice undercooked. 

            Without Goku I felt as if my life had already ended. Gohan kept himself distanced and took to studying, hardly eating anything. The friends and mourners disappeared back to their ordinary lives and the only person who kept in contact with me was Bulma. Bulma had always been loud and pushy, but now in the wake of her friend's death she was quiet and mild mannered. She supported me and for once I welcomed her friendship. Our rivalry was over.

            The snow began to fall after Goku 's death, a possible sign that Kami was still paying attention to his Earth. This year I didn't welcome it and I hated the snow.

            I remembered, after not eating for at least two days, that I had a child growing inside my body. I placed my hand on my belly, which was still as flat as cardboard, and closed my eyes. Goku could control Ki and with it he could sense things. One night, a week before falling ill, he placed his hand on my stomach and announced softly that I was pregnant. I tried to feel with censes, letting my body relax. To my surprise I could feel something inside of me, too weak to do anything yet, but there was still the presence of the soul there. The piece of Goku I had always wanted to myself had come alive. I began to cry.

            Six months passed quickly and by then I was eating again and so was Gohan. I told Gohan to be strong and set an example by going on with my daily tasks. Goku, though, was still at the back of my mind at all times.

            This was when bad things began to happen. The Androids, a creation of the mastermind Dr. Gero, the creator of the Red Ribbon army, were suddenly let loose on a cool, Saturday morning on the eleventh of May. By then I was rich with my baby in my stomach, the back aches coming regularly and the excitement of the birth upon me.

            It all began in morning. I had turned on our small TV to check the news before heading out to my garden, a thing I did regularly now to stay on routine. When I saw a crestfallen reporter reading a paper shakily in his hands, I first assumed it was something sad like a plane crash or a devastating disaster. That's when I knew something horrible had happened when he suddenly went pale.

            He stated that Ginger Town had been destroyed, gone up in flames, by unknown doings. Everyone the Government rescue force found was dead. Nearly two thousand had died in one day at one time.

            "G-Gohan!" I called, running to the staircase and up it. "GOHAN!" I felt a sudden panic in my chest. I knew my son would follow his father's constant example by protecting the innocent.

            Right then, the only innocence I saw was in my son.

            I barged into his room to find his textbook open, the pages blowing from the open window. Gohan was not there. I knew then that my son had left for the same reason the reporter was talking about on TV. 

            I waited for an hour before hearing anything. Bulma called me on the telephone, saying that three cities were already up in smoke.

            "ChiChi, Vegeta was gone this morning! Something is so terrible wrong………"

            Everything on that day came so fast that it seemed as if I had blinked my eyes once and it was over. I ran outside when I felt a presence there and sure enough it was Gohan, bloodied and bruised.

            "M-mother," he gasped and fell to the ground. I knew then, that in that moment that the beginning of the end had come.

            The Androids had arrived.

Author's Note: PLEASE R&R. Your comments are appreciated.


	4. Chapter Three

**The Years After**

**Chapter Three**

I tended to my son for the following three days, ignoring phone calls and urgent telegrams. By then Gohan could sit up, but just barely. He was so beaten up that I could feel his pain and his struggle to regain strength. 

Life provides terrible struggles. For me now, this was my harsh reality.

            When Gohan could finally spoke, he told me that Kurirun had been killed. The breath left me and I felt a sudden urge to lie down and never get up again. Damn Kami.

            "But how?" I asked, which was a stupid question, since I knew it had to do with the recent city demolishing.

            "These two…people…a woman and a man…just came out of nowhere when he were checking the area and then they…just shot out and killed Kurirun," Gohan said with much effort, I knew he was fighting back tears.

            "They're not human…they're too strong to be human…"

            I felt myself brim over.

            "Oh baby," I said and hugged him. He was ten years old now but instead of being rigid like he used to, he welcomed it. "Your father would be proud of you fighting so bravely."

            "Thank you, mother."

            The way he said it reminded me of Goku's last words to me. I hugged him tighter.

            "These androids will be defeated," Gohan murmured, pulling away from my hug. "I promise you mother. I will fight just like father used to."

            I smiled at my boy and I knew now that he wasn't my boy anymore. He was a man.

            When I finally took the time to read the telegrams, it was too late. Vegeta had already been slaughtered like an animal, Bulma wrote in a scrawling print. There were blotted areas where tears had fallen. 

            She wrote,

            _Vegeta 's dead. I don't know what to do ~ Bulma._

She didn't need to say anything more. 

How horrible Bulma must feel. I could relate to this woman, for the first time in my life. She had a child to raise while I was expecting one. But Bulma was brave and independent; she would be all right. She was rich and had all the gadgets, medicine, and toys in the world for her child. She'd survive. I gave her my answer, giving her my sympathy but words mean nothing in this world and no more do I believe than anyone else.

            When Gohan was finally strong enough to walk and run he began to train and this time I didn't stop him. In ways, I trained with him, mentally preparing him for the horrors he had yet to see. After over one thousand push ups, which an hour and a half, Gohan collapsed, wheezing. This job was far too hard for only an eleven year old.

            "Gohan! That's enough!" I called to him lugging water to him. 

            "N-n-no!" he gasped, pushing the water away and then gagging. "I…must train! Avenge Kurirun 's death…I just have too…"

            I placed my hand on my son's shoulder and turned him to look me in the eye.

            "Gohan…the world right now is not your problem."

            "YES IT IS! FATHER WOULD WANT ME TO DO THIS!" Gohan cried, bowing his head trying not to let his tears fall. God forbid a boy would cry! I always felt that maybe Piccolo; Kurirun, and Goku had urged this lesson upon him.

            "No Gohan!" I cried. "You must live up to your own expectations! If you can't save the world today you can save it tomorrow!"

            "But Earth may now be here tomorrow," Gohan said softly.

            "Then," I said, putting both of my hands on his shoulders, "You must have hope that it is. Now rest, Gohan, rest."

            Gohan lay back down on the soft snow and shut his eyes tight. I laid a warm washcloth on his forehead and placed a towel underneath his body and sat with him, my hands on my lap.

            "Mother?"

            "Yes?"

            "What will you call the baby?"

            I thought for a moment, surprised. In these last days I had forgotten all about my new child yet to be born, even with my stomach swollen.

            "I don't know."

            I looked up at the sky and saw the clouds. This too, I had forgotten. 

            _"Goku-san, What are you doing outside?"_

_            The sky was darkening and I had just put Gohan to sleep. He was only a few weeks old._

_            "Looking at the sky, ChiChi. It's so amazing how many forget that it is above our heads. We've flown together and seen the clouds. I wonder how others feel when they gaze up at the sky."_

_            I thought for a moment and looked up too._

_            "What do you see ChiChi?"_

_            Oddly enough, all the clouds had forms recognizable like a cow and a train, a face. Goku 's face._

_            "What do you see Goku?"_

_            "Heaven."_

"Howabout Goten if it is a boy?" Goten said, interrupting my daydream. I looked at my son appreciatively.

            "Goten means heavenly place, Gohan. Did you know that?"

            Gohan grinned.

            "Yeah, I know. It's where dad is right now I bet."

            "Yes…" I spoke softly. I had never believed in such places. But imagining Goku anywhere else wouldn't be possible.

            "What if it is a girl?"

            "Tomoko," I answered softly.

            "Tomoko?" Gohan questioned and then lying down said, "I like it."

            I ruffled his hair.

            "I think it means 'Cheerful.'"

            Gohan trained some more and came in for lunch and was ready to return to his remaining friends. When the phone rang shrilly through the house, I knew that Gohan would not need to go. His friends were dead.

            Then Gohan, my strong and noble son who had been taught no tears, fell to his knees and finally began to cry.


	5. Chapter Four

The Years After  
  
Chapter Four  
  
When Gohan began to cry I began to weep also and I went to him and wrapped my arms around him. He was gasping to regain control. He had lost his father, his best friends, and his allies in just six short months. I too, had lost just as much as my son.  
  
"DAMN THEM!" Gohan cried, gritting his teeth and clenching his fists, which reminded me of his father when he was angry.  
  
When Gohan was little, either Goku or I would hold him gently and lovingly when he cried. I was sympathetic, but Goku was confused.  
  
"ChiChi.why does Gohan cry so much?" Goku asked as I cradled my baby in my arms. Gohan was only five months old at that time and it was fall now, the leaves falling off of the red, yellow and green trees outside. He had previously bumped his head on the crib.  
  
"Babies can't talk so they cry to let you know what they need," I replied simply.  
  
"Sounds like Gohan is sad to me," Goku said, rubbing the back of his head.  
  
I blinked, surprised at my husband. For once he made sense to me.  
  
"How would you calm him down?" I asked, challenging him.  
  
Goku reached out for Gohan and holding his son over his head he made a funny face by crossing his eyes and sticking out his tongue. Gohan began to laugh.  
  
Funny faces would not work with an eleven-year-old boy. Once Gohan was done with his tears he got up and took of towards Bulma 's Capsule Corporation. I didn't stop him, but I told him not to fight the Androids no matter how much he was tempted.  
  
"I won't mother. I promise," Gohan said, bidding me farewell. His tears were dried, evaporated off of his handsome face. He no longer had the chubby cheeks of childhood and looked older to me now.  
  
"Gohan-chan, be careful," I murmured as my son flew away from me. I would wait and waited I did.  
  
Two days passed and Gohan was still not home and in those days I went into labor with my baby, crying out in pain. My father, the Ox King, came to me and tended to me as best he could. The sheets were drenched in sweat and blood and by that time I was weakening. My mother had been an Amazon and I was among the strongest races of humans on Earth. She had not died from childbirth, but from disease when I was only three. Death in childbirth had to be one of my worst nightmares at that time, besides loosing Gohan.  
  
"I.cannot die from.this!" I cried, my father taking my hand in his.  
  
"No, ChiChi, you won't! Work hard! It pays off!"  
  
Following his words I worked my way through birthing a squalling child. I only had to look upon my new child's face to see that it was a girl.  
  
"Tomoko." I murmured. My father bundled the baby and swabbed the inside of it's mouth to rid it of gunk. Then he placed her in my arms and I cradled her.  
  
"With a loss there is a life," my father murmured, tears in his eyes. I knew he spoke of Goku.  
  
With my new child I slept and when I awoke I tried nursing. The baby was premature by two months, but with her Saiyajin blood inside of her and her Amazon, I knew that she would pull through.  
  
"Tomoko," I whispered. It sounded odd on my lips. I had been expecting a girl, as most proud Amazon women would expect, but I was delighted just the same with my girl child. Maybe even more delighted with a daughter than if I had had another son.  
  
So Tomoko entered the world just as Kami exited.  
  
When Gohan returned, Tomoko was nursing and had already gained a little weight, crucial to her survival. He was happy with his sister but it was not her birth that he was home to see.  
  
"Without Piccolo there is no Kami and without Kami there are no dragon balls," Gohan said, angering lingering around his lips.  
  
I bit my lip when I realized the truth in this statement.  
  
"Piccolo.how could he have been so foolish!" Gohan cried, gripping his fists.  
  
"Gohan." I murmured.  
  
"He KNEW he'd die! Slaughtered like cattle just like the others! I've never seen so much blood in my life!" Gohan cried, kicking a rock.  
  
My father stood silent, cradling Tomoko in his arms. Gohan continued to throw things and eventually knocked down a tree in his anger. This roused Tomoko who began to cry. I knew then I would not and could not stop my son's anger. He deserved to have it.  
  
"Cities have been destroyed, people are dead. Corpses.everywhere! I'm worried for Bulma, for I fear that West City will be destroyed soon," Gohan informed us. I nodded.  
  
"I will ask for her to come to us for safety's sake, we need her input," I agreed. Gohan nodded.  
  
"I can only hope that Trunks is strong. I intend to train myself and ward of these Androids until I can hopefully defeat them," Gohan said, clenching his fists.  
  
I could only nod. Where had my input, my whole control gone? I was not the raving tyrant I had once been. This had ceased the day my husband died. I thought of Goku as many times a day I could.  
  
"The phones are down, though," Ox King interfered. "There are hardly any left to repair them!"  
  
"I know," Gohan said and turning to me, "I will go fetch her. Stay put."  
  
I agreed and placed my hand on my son's shoulder and gave it a squeeze.  
  
"Your father is with you. Go fast," I said and let my son go once again into the sky.  
  
I thought, for a moment right there in that state, that my son had sprouted wings.  
  
End of chapter four.  
  
Author's Note: Read and review! Note: No Goten ( Sorry, but you must understand that this is a whole different timeline than the original DBZ. Tomoko does have a purpose though. Stay tuned! 


	6. Chapter Five

The Years After

Chapter Five

            When Bulma arrived at our home to stay the first thing I noticed was how much bigger Trunks had gotten. He had deep blue eyes so deep that you could get lost in them. His hair was fuller and the color was brilliant, pale lavender, which contrasted well his dark skin.

            "ChiChi!" Bulma cried and like old ladies we fell into each other's arms. She had grown old in so little of time. She had a few wrinkles around her mouth, far more than most women her age should have. Her hair was les thick and pulled back into a pony tail and she wore old, faded clothing instead of stylish jeans and tank tops.

            "You're welcome here, always," I murmured. We pulled away and in the light of the moment I presented Bulma my daughter, Tomoko.

            Trunks was awed by the baby Tomoko. Bulma knelt down to him and showed him his new friend and Trunks cooed and reached out to pat Tomoko 's head.

            "Tomo-chan!" he gurgled. Bulma smiled up at me.

            "I think Trunks here has got a new friend."

            Indeed he did.

            The Androids attacked cities, countries, and sea more and more each day, blasting islands off of the maps and killing thousands upon thousands of innocent people. I waited nervously by my radio, listening for the latest broadcast of darkness.

            Bulma was just as nervous as I, but more productive in the ways of continuing her daily routine. She studied book upon book of science volumes as thick as car tires. She studied late into the night, making notes, blotting ink, her eyes becoming rheumy and tired.

            "I plan to find a way to save this timeline from destruction!" Bulma told me when I asked.

            "How can you do that? It's impossible, what with supplies running low!"

            "I'll find a way. I can use scraps of everything to build my time machine.

            "A time machine?!?"

            "Yep," Bulma confirmed. "A time machine."

            Though I doubted it would work, Bulma would sometimes work wonders. She had created the Dragon radar, pills that affected the bladder when you called "Piggy" and many more things. Her alertness brightened my mood and I finally found trust in her.

            Gohan continued to train each day until he spat up blood. He was constantly sore but soon he worked himself into routine. Fat became muscle, muscle became has hard as rocks. Tendons began to stick out of his neck like cords and I feared that the work would strain his heart. A smile of courage was always on his face and when it was not, it was because he had fainted. 

            The strain never got to the heart. The farthest it got was to Gohan 's conscious. He went to the newly burned out cities to look for survivors. When the Androids came too near, he fought them back, getting horrifically wounded in the process.

            On I was safe in our valley home behind Mount Paozu. The Androids never seemed to find it.

            Once Trunks could walk and talk, Bulma moved back to Capsule Corporation. West City had already been broken up, but the giant mansion of CC held fast. Bulma 's father slipped away on Trunks' third birthday and Bulma 's mother followed suit a year later on Tomoko 's fourth birthday.

            "CURSE THE DAMN ANROIDS!" Bulma would scream, hurling crunched soda cans at the ruins of buildings she had once known.

            She wore a baggy wind breaker with CC's logo and a baseball cap on backwards. I didn't bother to reason with her. I had once knocked down one of my cherry blossom trees on purpose, I was so angry. Tomoko began to cry but little Trunks soothed her by telling her everything would get better soon.

            "No Trunks," Bulma said, coming to her senses and returning to us, dust smudged on her cheeks. "Not today."

            Tomoko had blossomed into a young me by that time and would in the years to follow. She held her hair proudly in a high ponytail. It was black, but in certain light it gave off a dark blue sheen. Her eyes were unlike mine, though, they were a solid coal black just like her father 's that sparkled like wet diamonds when she was excited.

            Trunks and Tomoko were like siblings but I knew it my heart that one day it would very well be more than just friendship. 

            Gohan had hardly any leisure time and seeing Gohan train made Trunks anxious, so the little tyke trained too. I helped this by teaching Trunks the basics. This took time because while training I was often cooking meals on the stove and delivering packages to the elderly. When Trunks turned seven, nearly seven years after Goku 's death, Gohan taught him how to fly. 

            "I must help Gohan!" was Trunks finest statement received with a shrill "NO!" by his mother.

            For a short period in the summer of that same year the destruction stopped. People had a little lightened spirits in that time but the Androids quickly returned. I knew deep inside that they had grown bored.

            Gohan had described them too me as "Graceful as acrobats" and "Beautiful yet deadly." He said there was a blonde woman who wore jean clothing and a boy who had an orange bandana tied around his neck.

            "They're maniacs! They laugh when they kill people…so much blood…" Gohan told me, his body quivering.

            Gohan was now seventeen years old, almost eighteen, when he announced that he would fight the Androids head on and not stop until either both of them or him were dead.

            "YOU CAN'T GOHAN! THINK ABOUT WHAT HAPPENED TO PICCOLO AND THE OTHERS!" I shrieked in hysterics.

            Gohan calmed me down and then told me that he wouldn't try anything unless he knew. I believed him.

            When I told Bulma of what Gohan had said, Bulma was solem.

            "It is a dire consequence if he loses, not only his life, but the whole world."

            I nodded keeping my tears back with all of my strength.

            "I know this Bulma. I can see it just as clearly as you."

            We hugged for a long time before I mentioned of Gohan 's intentions of training Trunks.

            "I don't want my son to die, ChiChi! It would be too much! I've already lost mama, papa, and Vegeta! Even Yamcha meant much to me! I cannot loose my son!"

            I gripped her tightly to make her come back to reality.

            "I don't want to loose my son either."

            This was when Bulma finally calmed. When Trunks is older we promised.

            By then, though, Gohan had already taken off into the sky, not saying a final word of goodbye. Even if it were, my heart was hollow.


	7. Chapter Six

**The Years After**

Chapter Six 

I returned to my own home that day with Tomoko clutching my hand. She was such a young beauty, her eyes wide and keen, searching every place there was to see. She kept my spirits lightened, but just barely.

            "Cheer up Mama! Gohan will come home! Happy!" she cried, dancing around me. I didn't feel like dancing. Instead I felt like dying.

            I must've collapsed, for I found myself suddenly on the ground, convulsing with sobs. 

            "_GOHAN-CHAN!" _I cried, although none could hear.

            No one was the harsh reality of my life. My husband was dead, my son most likely dying, my father old, and my daughter young. I had no one to confide in and if I could, I wouldn't be able to explain.

            Why did I feel this way? Why did I feel so hopeless?

            Tomoko wiped my tears with her small fist and kissed my nose.

            "Why do you cry so much Mama? Why do you cry?" she said, tears brimming in her eyes.

            _Tomoko means cheerful._

I smiled through the mist my eyes were clouded with at the sweet memory of the conversation I had had with Gohan long ago.

            "I just miss your father, Tomo-chan. I miss him a lot."

            Tomoko reached out to me with her chubby arms and wrapped them around my neck. She buried her head into my shoulder and I knew then that I would not pursue my own selfish desires to terrify my own daughter.

            "Daddy misses us too."

            I carried Tomo-chan the rest of the way home. Bulma had dropped us by air car three miles away from our home for I had insisted on walking. Maybe my request to walk was to remind myself that I was still alive.

            We live; we live.

            When Gohan was seventeen he survived his first major battle with the Androids. After that it was all bad luck from there. His wounds were deep, mentally and physically.

            "Mother…I am so sorry…." He would tell me as I tended to his wounds. I laughed softly in my fear.

            "Don't be, darling. You're alive…you will be for a very long time…"

            "No…" he murmured. "I'm sorry that I didn't say goodbye."

            I cradled his head on my lap.

            "You can wait until next time, when I go," I told him softly. Why did I miss Goku so when I knew that he lived right inside his son and daughter? Everyday is a wonder. These were the years of wonder.

            I had no doubt to believe that wasn't true.

            Another year came and went quickly and by then Gohan had increased training, searching ruins of cities for survivors, while Bulma and I built a large bomb shelter with the aide of survivors.

            Tomoko and Trunks carried heavy bricks to assist us. Without machinery, it would take time to build. Time was scarce, back then when the Androids terrorized. I never directly met the Androids but I have experienced their terror right in the midst of it all. All the blood, seeping red, would increase my dread of my son's future. Not to mention Tomoko.

            The day she disappeared for those terrifying ten minutes changed my life forever. Bulma and I and the young ones headed towards the East province to help build more bomb shelters. We had landed and unloaded her capsule car and began to direct survivors into how to dig up the ground properly and mason the bricks. In that long time Tomoko, curiosity getting the best of her seven-year-old mind, had wandered off. I had only noticed before it was too late.

            "Bulma, where is Tomoko?" I asked her from where I was digging. Bulma set down her shovel and wiped the grime from her forehead.

            "I don't know. I haven't seen her."

            I panicked, feeling my chest tighten. Bulma, too, was becoming worried.

            "TOMOKO!" I called, crawling out of the pit I had made and stood on my shaky legs. "TOMOKOOOO!"

            I wandered, half blind, through the smoldering ruins of the city we had been trying to save. Buildings crushed, human remains everywhere. Not hands or feet, if you have the gory mind, but shards of clothing and tattered books.

            "TOMOKO!" I cried again and I went towards the skeleton of a large building, crawling through shards of metal, glass, and wood. 

            "What's your name?" I heard her voice say from where I was standing.

            "Tomoko?" I gasped and clambered towards where a burnt wall on the skeleton's structure was and peered around it.

            I saw Tomoko, my seven-year-old daughter, making pictures on the cement with a pebble and talking to a very peculiar looking man who was staring down at her. His eyes were what captured me, so unlike Bulma 's round ones or Gohan 's tired ones. They were narrow and the color of the eyes was exactly like the backside of a CD, silver and iridescent.

            I didn't move. Fear wouldn't let me. The man had an orange scarf tied around his neck.

            "My name is Juunanagou," the man said, abnormally calm. Tomoko looked up and smiled her small smile.

            "I'm Tomoko-chan."

            Juunanagou, the Android I knew he was, peered down at her and grinned.

            "Are you sure 'Chan' applies to someone dead?"

            Tomoko, sweet little Tomo-chan, who had the kindness and naïve personality of her father, had the remark fly over her head.

            "No, weirdo! You're being dumb. Why are you here anyway? Shouldn't you be building the bomb shelter with my mother and the others?"

            This was when I moved, sending a scrunched piece of metal flying to my kick right at the Androids head. He dodged it, but he looked surprised.

            "TOMOKO!" I cried, grabbing my daughter and then running for it. I knew I couldn't fight this demon; I would be killed in an instant!

            "YOU WRETCH!" the Android yelled and took off into the air after me. Sure enough, like a real life drama, I tripped and landed hard on the ground clinging to my daughter.

            "Mama…" Tomoko murmured and then fainted.

            "MOTHER!" I heard Gohan's voice call and out of nowhere a ki ball the size of a large ball went zooming over my head and connected with the Android pursuing me.

            "You again!" the Android hissed. 

            Gohan descended down and picked me up in his arms and took off towards the bomb shelter.

            "Gohan! Not towards the bomb shelter! The Android will kill _everyone_!" 

            Gohan, realizing his mistake, descended onto the ground and put me down.

            "RUN!" he urged and immediately I tore off, thinking only of Tomoko in my arms.

            Gohan took of into the air and delivered another ki ball. The Android dodged and punched Gohan 's gut. I knew this because I saw it all out of the corner of my eye. The Android had forgotten about me and so I headed towards where Bulma was. Bulma looked up as I ran to her.

            "The…Androids…" I gasped. Bulma gasped and turned to the builders,

            "THE ANDROIDS ARE COMING! HIDE!"

            Bulma turned to me and clasped my shaking shoulders, shaking me slightly.

            "We must hide, ChiChi-chan!"

            I nodded and I saw Bulma tear off in the direction where Trunks was carrying a cinder block towards the scurrying builders. Bulma grabbed him and motioned everyone into the half finished bomb shelter.

            I must have prayed to Kami right then and there when I sat heavily under because I forgot my surroundings. I only remember Trunks tugging on my arm, asking how Tomoko was.

            "Tomo-chan! Wake up!" he cried, shaking her. Her eyes opened slightly.

            "What?" she whispered. Then the explosions came.

            Everyone screamed and so did I, hugged Tomoko tightly to me while Bulma did the same to Trunks. I could feel out shelter brace and then a heart-wrenching tumble of bricks father down the tunnel. The screams of the people down there were silenced immediately and I knew exactly what had happened.

            "Damn…them…" I murmured into my daughter's hair, tears wetting it.

            There were more shakings and more sounds of collapsing buildings around us. Finally, silence.

            Gohan descended to the opening of our tunnel, his skin hanging off of one of his shoulders and a bleeding scar over one of his eyes.

            "I…failed…" he croaked when he saw half of the tunnel collapsed and he fainted into the mud.

            I crawled to him and took his hand and kissed it.

            "No…no…" I murmured.

            Even though I knew, in truth, that we all had failed.

              
            


	8. Chapter Seven

The Years After

Chapter 7

            It began to snow the day Gohan was defeated by the Androids once again. I took him home, mended his wounds as best I could, and kept him asleep. I didn't want him waking up and training again. To no avail, he would not be able to beat them the way he stressed himself. At the same time I had to nurse Tomoko.

            She was so shaken, the poor girl. She had seen too much for such a little child, but I could not say the same for Trunks, who had been ashen faced when our bomb shelter collapsed. Everyone was dead and the survivors were half conscious. It was hard to believe that the Androids were like two crazy teenagers with sickening values.

            Juunanagou, Android #17, was the evil one who had threatened by daughter. I had no idea what had happened to the female Android, Juuhachigou #18. She had most likely been off somewhere else, terrorizing a separate city.

            I was cooking a meal I knew nobody would eat. I half expected Goku to come barging home, calling to me,

            "I'm home ChiChi! I'm hungry, have you cooked one of your specialty dinners yet?"

            I smiled to myself. Slow Goku. Yet being so naïve he truly was wise in his ways of being so forgiving. The evilest of men he would find it in his heart to give them a second chance. 

            I heard a shrill knock on the door and opened it to see Bulma with Trunks holding her hand.

            "ChiChi!" she gasped.

            "Bulma!"

            Bulma walked inside and buried her face in her hands.

            "I c-can't stay in the city! The people, they won't believe me. They don't trust that we can help them with our bomb shelters!"

            She looked up and saw my stricken face and turned grim.

            "How are Gohan and Tomoko? Are they alright?"

            I nodded.

            "They'll get better. It's Gohan I'm worried about most."

            Bulma shook her head.

            "This won't do. Gohan can't beat them by himself."

            Trunks tugged at Bulma 's pant leg.

            "MOM! Let me train! I can train! I can fight! Gohan and I can beat 'em!"

            Bulma shook her head.

            "You're too young."

            "NO I'M NOT!"

            "Bulma, Gohan cannot do this alone."

            Bulma looked at me with tears in her eyes.

            "Just one more year Trunks. One more," she begged her son.

            "NO!" I screamed, slamming my fist on the table. "We don't have time! We don't have a year! All we have is NOW!"

            Bulma looked shocked at me but then stifled her tears.

            "I know…but…"

            "But what?"

            Bulma began to sob.

            "I don't want to loose Trunks!"  
            "Bulma we talked about this!" I argued, becoming enraged.

            "NO!" Bulma screamed, putting her hands over her ears.

            I took Bulma by the shoulders and led her into my bedroom. I sat her on the bed that Goku had died in and shook her hard.

            "We are all going to loose our children if we don't do something! You can't hold Trunks back when he has potential for saving this world!"

            Bulma hiccupped and lay down. I squeezed her hand.

            "I was once like this," I said slowly, "About Gohan. I didn't want him to train or to fight. I wanted him to be safe at home with Goku and I, feeling save and loved."

            I blinked back tears.

            "Goku loved Gohan and I, but he loved to train too. It was his passion and like his father, Gohan had a small fire for it also. You can't keep your loved ones back from what they need to do, no matter how hard we try. They must fulfill their jobs. Everyone is given his or her specific talent for a reason."

            Bulma nodded and then sat up again. She stared me hard in the eye.

            "I will let Trunks train once Gohan becomes better. After that, he must be at his FULL potential before even confronting the Androids. Do we agree?"

            I nodded at her.

            "I agree."

            "Tomoko, though," Bulma said, "Should not fight. I don't feel that she has the same power physically as Gohan or Trunks. It is too risky to take chances with her."

            I understood this statement. I had my same doubts in Tomoko 's fighting abilities. She was sloppy even at her warm ups and put no real effort into her kicks and punches. She fought to get it over with, not to learn it.

            "Yes," I said and we got up and made our way into the kitchen. Bulma explained her intentions for Trunks and Trunks nodded.

            "Gohan and I can't get hurt with one another!" Trunks said proudly. Bulma ruffled his hair and helped me cook the rest of dinner.

            Tonight the table would be filled.

            Time is scarce; I knew this. But the five years that followed flew by like three days. Trunks blossomed into a handsome teenager with the same eager innocence as Gohan had had. He trained hard under Gohan, pushing himself to the limit he knew he had, instead of going overboard like Vegeta had once done. His attention was unleveled and he was always careful when his training required challenges.

            Trunks and Gohan would disappear at days at a time, which worried Bulma and I sick until they came home and we scolded them. Tomoko though, was calm and cheery, just as her father, but had the same sharp wit that Bulma told me she had inherited from me. Tomoko was beautiful with her black hair pulled back in a white hair tie and would dress in the same type of kimonos I wore. She and Trunks were deep friends and like I have said once before, like siblings. But the more they grew the more they began to have deeper feelings for one another and this was apparent one afternoon on the spring of the fifth year. She and Trunks were out in the cherry blossom fields where my father lived. Trunks had his head in my daughter's lap and she sat there, like a mermaid, with her hands massaging her temples. For the first time in years I had smiled.

            I never again saw the Androids face to face every again. I didn't ever want to see them. I dreaded their horror like I had dreaded Goku 's death.

            It wasn't until the beginning of fall on the fifth year that my world had turned upside down. I had been sewing a new kimono for Tomoko to wear, a beautiful purple one with gold trimming and a silver obi. This was when the phone rang. Oh god I thought.

            Oh God.

Author's Note: Hey ^_^ I hope you guys all like my fic. R&R!!!!!!!!


	9. Chapter Eight

The Years After

Chapter Eight

            When Tomoko turned twelve one month before the life changing phone call, I finally decided to pull out the old family photo album to show her pictures of her father and of how life was before the Androids arrived. First I showed her one of the rare face shots of her father, smiling big with his coal black eyes twinkling. Next I showed her the photo my father took of us when Gohan was three. Goku was smiling, with one had on my shoulder and holding Gohan in the other. I realized in shock how much younger I looked and Tomoko noticed it too.

            "Things were very different back then," Tomoko breathed.

            "Yes," I sighed and continued to show her photos.

            Tomoko would laugh at Gohan, who in one photo was holding an ice cream cone, and her eyes would shimmer with tears when she saw pictures of Goku and I on our wedding day.

            "Father was a good man," was all that she said.

            I knew this but my daughter had remembered this for me. Goku had been a good man, a good man who died early.

            After showing her the photos I went into my bedroom and stared for a long time into the mirror. I was now forty, with one wrinkle on one side of my mouth. My hair was drier and coarser than it had once been, pulled up in a bun on the top of my head with a piece of cloth wrapped around it. I wore a dark blue dress with a purple Chinese vest with a black sash around my waist. I was far older than I cared to remember and with a sigh I lay my head down and began to cry. Luckily my skin wasn't loose in the least and I still looked young in a small way. 

            If Goku could've seen me I wouldn't be recognizable.

            I thought of this when I picked up the phone call. I thought of my age, how Gohan was, how Tomoko was growing up to be a beautiful girl far lovelier than Bulma and I had ever been, and how brilliantly dark the world was.

            "H-hello?" I said.

            "ChiChi," came Bulma 's voice softly. "Gohan and Trunks fought with the Androids today."

            "What?" I shrieked, clutching the phone like a mad woman. 

            "Yes…" Bulma said and I knew she was struggling in how to say it. "Gohan lost his left arm."

            I paused and without a word I put the phone down. My house blurred infront of me. Tomoko, who had just entered the room carrying more sewing tools, looked up and saw me.

            "Mother, what's wrong?"

            I didn't hear her. I walked outside and stood in the shining sun. Calmly I clenched my right fist and whipping around on the tree nearest too me I split it in two. 

            "Mother!" I heard Tomoko call and she ran to me and held me in her arms. "What happened? Is Trunks and Gohan alright?"

            "Gohan lost his arm," I murmured, expecting Tomoko to freak. Instead, my daughter who looked shocked yet relieved at the same time, said,

            "Is that all?"

            The response reminded me sickeningly like Goku. I gritted my teeth suddenly, sour at Goku 's memory. Damn him for dying! Damn me for letting him!

            I fell to my knees and punched the ground until dust rose.

            "DAMNIT! STUPID, DAMN KAMI! DAMN!" I screamed until my throat went hoarse. Tomoko didn't flinch at my blasphemy, only stood by me silently holding me in her arms.

            "Mother, please, shhh. Gohan is alright, he is alive."

            I began to weep and we sat there well until darkness fell, just me and my daugher exchanging tears, and then finally we stopped.

            "This world will not end now," Tomoko said quietly, biting her lip. I shook my head yes.

            "Not today. Not now."

            That night when Tomoko was sleeping I went outside and began to dance. Not gracefully, but crazily, like a mad woman. I kicked stones, threw things, did big leaps in the air, shooting, punching, anything to soothe my angry soul. I went to far when by accident I sliced my hand open by dissecting a large rock. 

            "SHIT!" I hissed and began to cry, not from the pain but from my anger at myself.

            I went inside and washed the blood from my wound and dressed it in antibiotic cream that I had stashed once long ago in the cupboard. I applied it to my wound and wrapped it in a piece of old cloth. I sat on my kitchen floor and fell asleep to the ticking of my clock on the wall. Nothing would wake me, I decided, until I was ready.

            I traveled to Capsule Corporation the next morning in the air car that Bulma had given me the year previous. Tomoko came too and she looked worried for her brother. When we arrived, Gohan was asleep, many bandages around various parts of his torso and legs.

            "Gohan," I said soothingly and put my hand on his cheek. "I love you."

            Gohan continued to progress slowly in his health, but he required constant attention. Trunks, who blamed himself for Gohan 's loss of his arm, said ashen faced at Bulma 's kitchen table and didn't do much to help around. Only Tomoko could talk to him, soothingly, and Trunks would listen.

            "What have I done?" Trunks would moan, his face buried in his hands. Tomoko reached out and placed her hand on his shoulder.

            "You did nothing, Trunks-kun. Nothing bad…nothing bad…"

            Tomoko was even more brave than any of us at that time. She was the only one determined to keep smiling.

            When Gohan could speak the first thing I did was make him a nice dinner that he used to love. Gohan ate little and once he pushed his plate beside.

            "Gohan, you must eat if you want to live to finally defeat the Androids," I said, cleaning his plate. "You need your strength."

            There was a long silence before Gohan said softly,

            "I am going to die, mother. Sooner or later the Androids will kill me and Trunks will be the only one left to fight."

            I closed my eyes tightly when the tears threatened to pour out.

            "Don't speak of such things Gohan! You know that is not true! You're far stronger than Goku ever was! Don't ever say things like…"

            "Why else am I still alive?" Gohan interupted. "It has been thirteen years mother since the Androids first arrived! All the hopes and plans for me are finished! Nearly everyone is dead! EVERYONE! And I will be next. The Androids target me. They target me all the bloody time! You must let me fight once I am well and then no more interferences! When I am dying let me DIE!"

            "NO GOHAN!" I screamed and turned around, storming to his bedside. "I would slap you if you were well! DON'T SPEAK!"

            Gohan closed his eyes, his scar long and curved over his eye. When he opened his eyes, his eyes were shining.

            "I don't say this to frighten you mother. I truly do not. But it is the truth…"

            "I don't want the truth!" I shrieked. "Your father always had to break it to me!" I began to laugh in a high-pitched giggle, grief and craziness consuming me. 

            "He always told me he was leaving or how hungry he was! He always left! Don't leave me Gohan! I'll die if anything happens to you!"

            Gohan reached out and shook me, a mix of sympathy and surprise on his face.

            "Mother!" he cried, "CALM YOURSELF! You have people who love you for always! Tomoko, Bulma, Trunks, and I! Dad loved you too, he'll never leave you, nor will I. Just our physical states…"

            I hugged him tightly then and he returned it.

            "I won't be able to hold on anymore!" I wept. Gohan patted my back.

            "Yes you will. Yes you will, mother, you will."

            We stayed there for a long time before we broke apart and smiling he lay back down to sleep.

            It was not holding on with my arms that Gohan spoke of. It was holding on in my heart.


	10. Chapter Nine

**The Years After**

Chapter nine 

            The final day came when Gohan told me he would take Trunks training with him for a few days. I was hesitant, but I nodded, knowing that Gohan meant he would be fighting the Androids. Smiling at me, he said,

            "I will defeat those androids. I promise you, if not today."

            I nodded at my grown son and helped him tie the sash of his gi. He dressed in a gi just like his father 's, but this one had long sleeves instead of none. The sleeve of his left arm was tied to hide the knob that was all that was left of his lost arm.

            "You'll be alright," I said, lying to myself and to him. Gohan saw through this and laughed a little.

            "Yeah…I got you as my mother, don't I?"

            "Funny," I said sarcastically. Then Gohan stood up to his full height and hugged me with his remaining arm.

            "I love you," he said. "Thank you for everything you have done for me."

            I, like most mothers would, began to cry.

            "Thank _you_, Gohan," I said softly, "Be careful and make sure Trunks is alright."

            He drew back and smiled at me. I nodded up at him.

            "You are your father 's son you know."

            Gohan grinned.

            "I know it."

            Before he turned to leave he said to me,

            "You and Tomoko will be alright. Promise me that you will."

            I nodded, biting my lip to keep myself back.

            "Mom?"

            "Yes, Gohan?"

            "When a woman named 'Videl' comes, greet her please, for me. Tell her that I am sorry."

            I could only nod, perplexed.

            "I love you," were his and my departing words.

            When he took off into the air that day leaving Tomoko and me watching, I knew he would not be coming home that night. Quietly Tomoko retired to her room to read a book while I stayed downstairs and looked through photo albums for the next two hours.

            When those passed I entertained myself with making my own food recipes and after three hours of that I sat out in my garden. I pulled out the last of my small harvest into a basket and wiped the dirt off of my forehead. I continued to dig when I struck something hard, and unknowingly I extruded a perfectly round stone sphere.

            It was a dragon ball, long dead since after Kami died. Once again I cried and once again I tried to dry my tears. Gohan must've buried it the day Piccolo died.

            _No more tears right now, ChiChi. Not now._

I put the sphere in my basket also and carrying my vegetables inside I laid them on the kitchen table. I then began to chop relentlessly at a carrot and then at a tomato. Finally I had everything chopped and I tossed them into a pot and cooked them. When I was done I tasted it using the long wooden spoon that Goku would use to eat since his spoonfuls were so big.

            The taste was odd in my mouth, a combination of every vegetable I knew of in one pot. I imagined that if my family were whole with Gohan and Goku still around, all of us would eat this together, savoring every bite. I would let Gohan taste test the food first, letting Goku suffer playfully for a few seconds.

            "Aww, but ChiChi!" he would moan.

            I would then let him taste and he would lick his lips satisfied.

            "Hmmm hmmm good!"

            This imagery kept me entertained for a while until I felt a sudden part of me grow cold and I shivered. I could sense deep down that my son had died just then suddenly. It began to rain outside, washing away the dirt, and the blood I knew flowed.

            I didn't cry right away. I had no energy for it. I merely picked up the pot of food I had been cooking and dumped it on the floor. The hot water seeped through the cracks and the vegetables sprayed everywhere. I sat down in the mess I had made.

            _Gohan-chan._

_Blood everywhere. My son's face, head down in a puddle of blood, his eyes opened wide and unseeing. Trunks scrambling towards him, the boy scratched and beaten. The horrific screams that followed shook the Earth. . Trunks looked up at the sky, bellowing in anger. His hair flickered gold, his eyes turned green, and for a moment the boy was surrounded by the golden aura that had once surrounded Goku and Gohan. The boy flickered back to normal and fell to the ground._

The vivid imagery of my son's death danced in my head like leaping flames and I fell to the ground, my muscles clenched in the anticipation to pounce on something. 

I remembered my own memories of myself giving birth to him, pushing hard so that I would deliver a strong healthy child. I remember looking into his dark eyes for the first time, holding my baby tenderly in my arms. I remembered dressing his first major wound and soothed his tears by telling him a story of mystical dragons and how his father had saved the day many times by defeating those who threatened them. There was his first smile and how his father and I named him, for in theory, Gohan named himself.

            There were the flashes of his first birthday cake, how he and Goku had stuck their hands into the cake 's frosty flesh and how Gohan would cling to his father's pant leg and say,

            "That's my cake, daddy! My cake!"

            The last memory I saw was their faces both of my Goku and Gohan, smiling together as they arrived home from Goku 's long voyage on Yadrat. Goku had put his hand on Gohan 's shoulder and told his young son of how proud he was of him and that I, his mother, would be proud of him too. Both their eyes were shining…dancing…leaping…then darkening. The image faded away.

            The two men in my life were now gone forever.

            It was then when my cinema of memories ceased and I let the burning, scalding tears come, dribbling down my face and onto my dress. I sat in the dark and the night until my tears ran dry. I began to sleep.

            I had dozed for a short while when I heard the shrill ring of the telephone. I got up, staggering like a drunk. My head throbbed and my mouth was parched. I picked up the telephone and heard Bulma crying on the other end.

            "I know, Bulma," I croaked. "I know."

            Three days later we buried Gohan next to his father. Tomoko chanted soft prayers as she lighted the scented candles placed by his grave, making the tears on her face glimmer like diamonds. Trunks stood watching them slowly burn, his eyes expressionless. He had been the one to carry Gohan 's body home.

            Bulma cried silently and I cried not at all. My grief was too far beyond tears. My father looked old and heart broken and he patted my hand absently and then went home once laying my baby into the ground.

"No parent should ever have to lay their children into the ground," he said, before the tears broke his voice.

 A week later the great Ox King would be dead too, dying quietly in his sleep. He had been an old man who had been too tired to go on.

            I cleaned Gohan 's old bedroom one last time, taking off the bed sheets and putting them in the storage closet. I wiped his desk where he had once studied many textbooks upon textbooks and gave his childhood penny collection the final polish. I took an old photo from the photo album of Gohan when he was eleven, smiling just weeks before his father 's death with left hand clutching a dragon ball and framed it on the bedside table. In this way people would know it was his room.

            Tomoko, grieved by her brother 's death, spent her time with Trunks among my father's cherry blossom fields, telling him the stories about how their father 's had met and about the dragon balls. Trunks knew these stories from this from his mother but he listened to the lulling sound of Tomoko 's voice anyway, relaxing his head on her lap. One day while cleaning the windows of my father 's old house, I could see when the first tears fell from the boy's eyes, seeping down his cheeks and onto his neck. He got up and turning to Tomoko they wrapped each other in their arms. 

            It was now Trunks job, if he lived to see the day, to defeat the Androids. I clenched my fists and felt a sudden spark of hope. If not my son could pull it off the son of Vegeta might just be able too. With Tomoko 's support, Bulma 's genius, and my advice maybe we would form a hero out of him.

            Faith that had frayed long ago was returned to me. I smiled in spite of myself.

            Hate for the Androids kept me going for the next three years but love for the people around kept me alive. Bulma and I lost some contact after Gohan 's death but Tomoko and Trunks still continued to see each other.

            I visited Bulma and saw her working hard on building a time machine.

            "I plan to send Trunks back into the past to tell Goku and the others of what has happened in this future to see if we may change it!" Bulma declared to me. I believed it would work.

            "Indeed we will."

            Over the span of three years Trunks trained very hard physically and would only stop to visit Tomoko briefly. It was clear that by the ages of fifteen both were betrothed to one another, for both cared for each other deeply and openly in a way that I can't describe.

 When he challenged the Androids only days after turning sixteen he was defeated easily and his body was bent inside out. The same day this had happened Bulma was nearly finished with the time machine. She contacted Tomoko and I and both of us hurried over. 

            Tomoko never trained but she had developed an enormous talent at healing. She would dig and plant certain herbs in our garden and come up with healing potions and pastes I could only imagine of creating. She brought a flask of her latest healing mixture and applied it to Trunks wounds. 

            "What are those?" Trunks asked weakly from underneath his quilt. He lay hurt and wounded on a bed in Bulma 's office. Tomoko said nothing and applied the paste to his wounds. In moment the swelling healed and Trunks sighed satisfied into his pillow.

            "Thank you, Tomo-chan," he murmured. Tomoko smiled.


	11. Chapter Ten

The Years After

Chapter Ten

            Bulma worked hard into the night while Tomoko and I took turns listening to the evening broadcast and checking on Trunks. Shortly after eleven o'clock at night Tomoko disappeared from my site. I could hear her talking with Trunks in the back room where his bed was.

            "Were you frightened?" I heard Tomoko ask Trunks softly.

            "No…not at the time. It was stupid of me to do so. I should've stayed back like mom said."

            "You were brave, Trunks-kun. You were trying to do good."

            I heard a pause. Trunks didn't answer. I got up and peeked into the crack the door made. I saw them holding hands, Trunks propped up on his pillows.

            "I'm thinking I will go in mom 's time machine to go back to the past to warn your father and the others of the Androids."

            "So I heard. When? You are too weak right now," Tomoko said.

            Trunks smiled a little.

            "I know. I plan to go once I am better, up to my full strength."

            "How far to you plan to go back?"

            "Fifteen years, three years before the Androids come. When Gohan was eight."

            "Oh."

            Tomoko sighed softly.

            "Gohan would've been proud of you, Trunks."

            "Yes."

            They sat there for a long while until I planned to go back to the radio when Trunks said,

            "I miss him. He was a brother to me."

            "Same."

            Trunks laughed a little at Tomoko 's dry joke. 

            "I'll tell you all about your father when I come back, Tomo-chan. I'm sure he was a great man."

            Tomoko shrugged.

            "I don't know. I'd kind off like to imagine him my self instead of being told what he was."

            "Why?"

            "Because I'd like to be naïve about it. That way it will not be so painful."

            Trunks fell asleep in her arms. I walked away and sat by the radio to catch the last bit of the broadcast. Three cities, one of the few that remained, had been destroyed. The Androids were becoming crueler and more blood thirsty than ever.

            When Trunks strengthened his mother, Bulma, prepared him for the trip ahead. We told him to be careful in what he said and to not give away that he was the son Vegeta.

            "If you tell them and my past self gets word of it," Bulma warned, "You will not be born."

            "Don't tell them about Tomoko either," I advised. "For the same too might happen."

            Trunks nodded solemnly.

            "I won't."

            Bidding him goodbye that sunny day was a hard thing for Bulma, Tomoko and I to do. He dressed in a jean Capsule Corp. jacket with baggy pants and boots. He wore a black tank top and looked hardly recognizable. He was handsome and shrewd and no one would ever guess that he was a mixture of Bulma and Vegeta. Trunks told his mother he'd be back soon and that we shouldn't worry.

            "I'm a Super Saiyan! In that time period I'll be the strongest one there. Don't worry."

            Turning to Tomoko he took her hand and squeezed it. She smiled at him.

            "You'll wait for me, won't you?" he asked. Tomoko nodded.

            "As long as it takes."

            Trunks leaned in and they kissed quickly on the lips and rising into the air Trunks got into the large dome capsule and closed the top. He waved and we waved after him, Tomoko yelling out to him,

            "BE BACK SOON!"

            When Tomoko and I returned home there was a woman waiting for us by our house. She had set up a small camp and a small fire and over her cooking pot she was roasting some meat. She looked up when we landed in our air car and smiled at us.

            "Hello there!" she called, waving.

            "And to you!" I called back, reaching to where she sat, feeling perplexed. She was young, the age Gohan would've been if he were still alive, with bright blue eyes and dark hair pulled into a not at the nape of her neck.

            "What is your name?" I inquired. Tomoko scurried into the house to prepare a bed for what seemed to be a guest.

            "Videl," answered the woman simple and smoldering her small fire she got up and shook my hand. Her touch was strong and her eyes shined brightly. I gasped when I heard her name.

            "Videl? Gohan told me about you long ago," I said softly.

            "I have come, I think, to the Son house."

            "You have. I am ChiChi, Gohan 's mother."

            "Where is Gohan?"

            I paused. A gentle breeze blew against us and I wondered why it had taken Videl so long to come to us. I had no idea where she was from or who she was or how Gohan knew her, but something told me instinctively that they had been more than just friends. This was shocking, but it didn't knock me off of my feet like I had suspected.

            "Gohan died three years ago. He died fighting the Androids."

            Videl didn't seem too shocked when she heard this news as if she had known it deep down, but she sank to the ground and drew her knees up under her chin. Her mannerisms were peculiar but I ignored it and I sat next to her and put my hand on her shoulder. She took a knife out of her backpack and sharpened it on a rock.

            "I take it you and Gohan were in love," I said softly. Videl sniffed and then began to cry.

"Yes we were. I had to travel by night and I was so far away…I knew he'd die fighting! He always warned me about that!" Videl dried her tears and stood up.

"I'm sorry I've bothered you," she said and packing her things in a hurry I said aloud,

"Gohan told me to tell you that he was sorry."

Videl paused and looked up at me. She sighed.

"I know he is? Who wouldn't be?"

Taking her things Videl stood up and taking my hand kissed it.

"Thank you, Son ChiChi, for your understanding. Gohan and I met in the year before his passing. He had come to where my city was once it was destroyed. We didn't know each other well, but in the end we loved each other. The last time I saw him, which was nearly three and a half years ago. He told me to go to the Son House if I ever wanted to meet his family. This is how I found you. I'm glad I did."

With that the strange girl Videl turned and walked away from me, leaving me staring with my eyes wide. When she left in the fading sunlight that day, leaving me staring after her with the weirdest sensation I have ever felt, I smiled.

Everybody so far in my life who had left me had said 'Thank you.' Peculiar.

"I'll be back!" Videl called to me. 

"I know!" I said to myself and turning I went inside. I never saw Videl again. 

Something told me in my heart that she had joined Gohan in the afterlife. I didn't protest.


	12. Chapter Eleven

**The Years After**

**Chapter Eleven**

When Trunks returned to us the following day we (Bulma, Tomoko and I) were there to greet him. Tomoko ran into his arms and they spun around together. Trunks grew grave when he saw Bulma and I.

            "Mother, I Goku everything. He was returning after defeating Furiza on Namek wearing odd clothing from the planet 'Yadrat.'"

            Bulma nodded.

            "I remember that day. You, Trunks, aren't in my memory anywhere. I was wearing that stupid afro wasn't I?"

            Trunks nodded and we all laughed softly. Bulma pulled consciously at her now dead straight blue hair.

            "I told Goku everything. I brought him aside and gave him the heart medicine. I told him of the Androids and what a horror they were and how Gohan and the others all died eventually at their hands. I didn't tell him of you being my mother until the very end."

            Bulma sweat dropped.

            "Trunks…Goku was never the brightest bulb in the dark! He might spill and you may never be born!"

            Trunks shook his head.

            "No…I think Goku can keep secrets."

            Turning to me Trunks said,

            "Goku is an incredible man ChiChi. I'm glad I got to meet your husband."

            I nodded and smiled at Trunks.

            "He was."

            Trunks handed his mother the time machine capsule and Bulma slipped it into her pocket. Taking Tomoko 's hand, she and Trunks walked away from us and into what was left of West City. When they returned, despite their age, I knew they'd be engaged.

            Trunks proposed to Tomoko that day kindly. Tomoko said yes and taking each other's hands they promised not to marry until they were at least nineteen. I knew proposing at this age was extremely old fashioned and that Goku and I had been married young too, but neither Bulma nor I protested, for we never could know how many days left we had until the Androids discovered us.

            Trunks and Tomoko were still both sixteen. 

            Trunks told us that we would have to wait three years until he could travel back in time once again to see if everything went well. We all agreed "yes" and in that time Trunks trained. When he hurt himself, Tomoko would dress his wounds, and both were constantly together whenever they could be. I didn't tell Bulma or Trunks of what Videl that fateful day she arrived at my home. I decided to keep it her and Gohan 's privacy. In this way I could serve my son a favor.

            Three years passed and again Trunks took off into his capsule. This time he stayed in the past for over a month. He was nineteen years old. I had just turned forty six while Bulma was fifty one. 

            Oddly enough, it had been six years since Gohan 's death and nineteen years since Goku 's. Tomoko, now eighteen and a half, celebrated their lives by cooking a fine dinner for me and herself. We celebrated in quick haste, since soon other burnt out villages and cities required our help.

            The Androids now had ravaged every part of Earth. I knew that they grew increasingly bored and if there were no more cities to burn, they might aim their blows at the Earth. That could destroy Earth and them being Androids would maybe survive and take off to invest our galaxies. Time would only tell.

            In the month of Trunks' absense I visited Kami house by myself one dreary day. The house had been deserted for years and dust had formed in every nook and cranny of it. The last I had heard from it was that Roshi and Oolong had stowed away in a submarine under the water. They had not emerged for nearly seventeen years, since they had disappeared two years after Goku 's death. I took them for dead.

            Running my finger along the window sill I looked out along the ocean and felt the ocean breeze sting my eyes. When Trunks returned he would hopefully be strong enough to defeat the Androids.

            There is still hope and there always will be.

            A week later I was tending to my garden. Lately I had grown big, bright lilies and roses, tulips and sun flowers. I heard Tomoko cry from inside and hurrying out to me was a big smile on her beautiful face.

            "Trunks is home, mother! He's home and he's gone to fight the Androids!"

            I gasped and wrung my hands together.

            "Really?"

            Tomoko nodded, tears shining in her eyes.

            "Bulma said he was stronger! She could feel it in her gut!"

            When Tomoko and I piled into our air car and took off, I knew deep inside my gut that the end was near.

            The end of the Androids, I mean.

            We arrived at Capsule Corporation with beads of sweat dotting both of our foreheads. Climbing out off our air car Tomoko ran to Bulma who was waiting for us at the gate of Capsule Corp.

            "Is Trunks back?" Tomoko cried. "Is he alright?"

            Bulma pulled Tomoko into a hug of joy. She pulled back and smiled at the both of us.

            "The Androids are dead! Trunks has defeated them!"

            We all whooped with joy and laughter, tears of relief and happiness washing over our faces. In all of these years, the years of wonders, we had survived! What stories we would tell our children! What tales of adventure.

            This was when Trunks came out to see us. Taking Tomoko in his arms he spun her around and they hugged.

            "I can home," he murmured into their embrace. Tomoko smiled.

            "You are most welcome."

            Everyone who had survived piled into the streets of the broken cities and cheered once the news had spread and ale and wine long forgotten passed around and food cooked up and prepared to all. Everyone dressed in fine western clothing or took to wearing traditional kimonos. It was the day of rebirth, as historians would call it. It was not all celebration though.

            "WE'RE SAVED! THE ANDROIDS ARE DEAD!"

            Tomoko, Bulma, Trunks and I went to the graves of our friends and family and prayed. I don't know why we did it but we laughed gaily as we told our lost ones of the defeat of their murderers. There were all smiles, with tears mixed in.

            The revenue the Androids caused was great. Nearly one third of Earth 's population was finished in with the rubble of the destruction. Nearly every family I knew of had lost a relative and the sorrow was great.

            Before Tomoko and Trunks married we all set to work donating to money to the small funds that worked day and night to restore Earth. It would take many long, long years without the dragon balls. In a small way though, this was best. By this time everyone knew that we had to do the best with what we had. Trunks and Tomoko worked hard. Tomoko 's healing remedies helped thousands. I traveled to Karin, who had survived after all these years, and received bags upon bags of senzu beans. 

            I would often ask Trunks in the years after if he would take credit for defeating the Androids once and for all, but he shook his head.

            "No…I think it's best if the people spend their time paying for repairs and not just one man."

            Once we healed as many as we could we all set to work building. It would take time, but it seemed that Trunks' heroism supplied us with more.

            Two beautiful years after the end of the nightmare, Trunks and Tomoko wed under the stars, both in traditional kimonos. It was a quick wedding for we would soon have to return rebuilding our cities. Tomoko had her hair tied up with small white flowers and wore no make up, since she didn't need it. If anything, she looked like a living flower herself, beautiful and alive. It slowly began to snow, a good sign I thought, since it was a sign that Goku was watching.

            Tomoko lifted up hers arms and began to dance. Trunks joined her by her side and man and wife they danced under the falling snow.


	13. Finale

The Years After Finale

            "Mother!" came Tomoko 's happy voice from the garden. "Come quick!"

            I was in the kitchen washing a few pots and pans and I stopped my work immediately when I heard her voice. Running out to the garden I could see my grandson powering up to a super Saiyajin level while Trunks watched him proudly. Kinji had mastered the technique in just days of training. He, just like Gohan would, smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his head. He powered down and smiled directly at me.

            "Kinji!" Tomoko exclaimed and clapped her hands together. "I am so proud!"

            "Excellent Kinji!" I called.

            Kinji gave his mother and I a small and proud smile.

            "Thanks."

            "This calls for a celebration!" Trunks said, ruffling the boy 's hair. Kinji laughed at his father and swiped at his hand.

            Tomoko and Trunks bid me farewell while Kinji practiced a few basic karate moves. The boy, who was thirteen, was quick and fast to learn just like his grandfathers and uncle before him had been. I beamed with pride like I would've with my own son.

            "I'll see you soon mother," Tomoko said, squeezing my hand. I shook my head.

            "I will see you later. Thanks for visiting."

            Tomoko drew me into a hug as if expecting that this was the last. She inhaled deeply and pulled away. Her wise, wide eyes were shimmering with tears. I put my hand to her face and brushed away a few strands

            "I love you," she said.

            "And I you," I returned.

            "Grandma," Kinji said, running to me. "Will you tell me the tales of the dragon balls when I visit tomorrow? And Of Grandpa?"

            I smiled down at the little boy and hugged him.

            "Now that's a story I've wanted to tell you," I whispered into his ear.

            "Don't forget," Trunks said, "We're to visit my mother 's grave tomorrow. The New Year starts soon."

            I nodded at Trunks and felt a hint of sadness on his tongue. Bulma had died three years before, just like she would have wanted, curled up in her work area with papers scattered. She had been a hero to the last and we buried her next to Vegita overlooking a lonely ocean peak.

            "See you!" Trunks, Kinji, and Tomoko called.

            My family left me to return to Capsule Corporation and from the window of the air car, I saw Kinji wave. I waved back and watched happily as my family disappeared from my view and into the fading light.

            _Goodbye, Tomoko…Kinji…Trunks._

            Walking towards the garden I picked up one loose rose and taking it by the stem, I began to pluck away at its petals. Its frail skin peeled away from its home and into the air I tossed them. They blanketed me like snow and I knew that the time, finally, had come. What happened next I can't remember, except for falling down….down…down.

 I was not at home anymore, nor was I alive. I lay upon a snowy hill, an endless amount of clouds above my head with cherry blossom petals falling into my lap. Instead of shock, I began to smile. I knew what had happened and oddly enough I was relieved.

            I got up and looked around. Yet again I was young, my hair lush and dark falling down my back, and for once I had no worries. I put my hands to my face and felt no wrinkles or loose skin. I smiled satisfied and sat down again and in my hand I clasped the falling cherry blossom petals swirling around me. I smelled their perfumed forms with tears streaming down my face. Before Goku 's death I had asked him to wait, but I guessed now that he had forgotten.

            "ChiChi."

            I looked down and saw before me my love's familiar face smiling up at me, his body dressed in the normal garb he had worn in life, but this time there was something more inviting. Not a memory this time, but in flesh, he came to me. Slowly, anticipating his next move he took my hands in his and kissed me on my mouth. He laid me down and I wrapped my arms around him and we held each other for what seemed like years.

"You waited," I whispered through his touch and caresses. "You kept your promise."

"_Ai shiteru, ChiChi-san. _Thank you." I could feel both of us choke up, but most of it was me crying into his chest. It seemed as if in Goku 's final hours he had remembered my touch and was returning the favor, but this time he did as his heart wanted him to do.

"It's time to go," he said soothingly and kissed my forehead.

I nodded and wiped my tears on the back of my hand. I turned to look behind me for Trunks, Kinji and Tomoko but I saw nothing. I had expected us to be together. Goku squeezed my shoulder reassuringly.

"We will see our children one day, ChiChi. Don't worry. We will wait."

I turned to him and smiled. No words were needed said.

            Goku and I, husband and wife, were once again reunited. Taking my hand in his we descended into eternity, together. 

_~*~My dearest friend,_

_            If you don't mind_

_            I'd like to join you by your side._

_            Where we can gaze into the stars_

_            And sit together, now and forever_

_            For it is plain_

            As any one can see 

_            We're simply meant to be~*~_

Where Tomoko slept in Trunks' arms that night, only the wind rustled her sleeping form. Kinji, though, was up and awake. Sitting on the roof like the old habit his uncle Gohan used to have, he gazed up at the stars looking for a sign of some sort to remind him of his ancestors. From where he sat he thought he saw a shooting star. _And life goes on._

The End.


	14. Author's Note

Author's Note 

So here Mirai ChiChi 's story ends.

But thank you so much for reading this fic!!!! It's the first short epic I've ever finished and I like it a lot. I will go back and do a little revision. I need to do a little more spell check *whacks head*

            I'd just want to thank the reviewers, mostly. I really appreciate comments of any kind. I'm glad you liked the fic and I'm hoping I'll make more in the future for your enjoyment. Again, thanks.

~Laters~

            Raquel Kamikaze


End file.

Dragon Ball Z, Tragedy