Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ The Study Break ❯ The Study Break ( One-Shot )

Disclaimer: Dragonball Z and its characters were created by Akira Toriyama.

 

 AUTHOR'S NOTES:  This story was written as part of a challenge I posted to fanfic list I help moderate. The challenge was to write a story in one hour. From the first time you either set pen to paper or began typing you had an hour to finish the story. So here it is my contribution. ^_^

 

This story takes place soon after the Cell Games and it features Gohan and Chi-chi.  The scene is told from Chi-chi's point of view and in the first person.

 

It is kinda sad but hopefully will leave you with a WAFFy feeling at the end.  And Yes I did finish it in the allotted hour.  ^_^ But only by 1 minute  ^_^.

 

~*~

The Study Break
By Lady Lark

~*~

 

“Gohan?” I call lightly as I push open the door to his room, a tray of Rice Cakes and tea balanced on my hip.   There he is, my good little scholar, hunched over his books, pencil in hand.  “Gohan, honey, it's time for you to take a break.  We don't want you get burned out.”

 

My little boy lifts his head from his books and swivels in his chair to look at me.  I manage to squelch my urge to gasp when I see his face, he's been crying.  I know this even though he's obviously taken pains to hide it from me.  Quietly, I pad across the room to his desk and set down my tray.

 

Kneeling beside him, I look up into his dark eyes.  Goku's eyes.  “Gohan, what's wrong?” I ask trying to pitch my voice at just the right level, motherly concern rather than over protective harpy.   I see my son debating between two conflicting emotions.  If I had to guess, I would say that he is torn between wanting act grown up and staying a child just a little longer.  His face, so easy to read just like his father's, twists with his internal debate.  Finally, the latter seems to win and he throws himself into my arms, momentarily forgetting his own strength and knocking me backward on the floor.

 

I hardly notice my ten-year-old son soaking the front of my dress with his tears.  I do what any good mother would do, I hold him.  I hold him and let him cry, all the while humming the little melody I sung over his cradle.  I know after the worst of his crying passes that he will want to talk, to explain why he needed to weep.

 

Several minutes pass and I feel my right leg start to fall asleep, the pins and needles feeling distracting me momentarily so that I miss the first sign that my baby is ready to talk; a subtle loosening of his arms about me.  He lets out a big sigh and pulls away from me.  But he doesn't go far, shifting his weight he lies down in my lap curling around me.

 

I shift so I can stroke his thick, black hair, the true merger between his father and myself, and wait for him to talk.  I don't want to push although I am very concerned about my little boy.   I don't have long to wait before he pulls himself together enough to form a coherent sentence.

 

“I killed him, Mom,” he says softly, regretfully.

 

“Cell?” I ask a little confused at his opening statement.

 

He shakes his head and burrows further into my lap.  “No, Mom, I didn't mean Cell.  I meant Dad,” he pauses briefly.  “I killed my Daddy.”

 

I sit stiffly for a moment so shocked that Gohan would think that he killed his father.  Even I know that Cell killed him.  “You didn't kill your father, Gohan.  Cell did.”

 

“No Mom, you don't understand!” he wails, tears streaming down his cheeks as he sits up to face me.   “Dad was killed because I hesitated.  I could have killed Cell, but I held back gloating in my newfound power.  And because I held back, Cell had time to build up enough energy to self-destruct.”

 

“Oh Gohan . . . “ I start but he interrupts me.

 

“Dad saved us, Mom, not me” he says in a tone full of self-loathing.  “He teleported Cell away so that he couldn't destroy the Earth.”  He turns away from me so that I can't see his face; his shoulders slumped in defeat.

 

“Gohan?”  He ignores me, so I harden my tone and repeat, “Gohan.”  He slowly turns and faces me again.  “Gohan, you didn't kill your father,” I say firmly.

 

“But . . .” he tries, however I hold up a hand to forestall him.

 

“No `buts,' Gohan.  You didn't kill your father, Cell did.  And you killed Cell.  That is all there is to it.  Now I am not going to allow you to sit around here and mope in a fit of self-pity.  You have studying to do.  I want you to have all the opportunities that I didn't have.”

 

“Mom, why don't you see that the reason you don't have Dad around anymore is because of me?”

 

I look at him closely.  My poor little Gohan.  He's such a brave boy, trying to so hard to cope with his father's death and his own feelings of guilt.  I just wish there were something I could do for him to make it a little easier.   I shrug mentally, even if it doesn't work, I have to try to help him.

 

“Gohan, I will always have a part of your father with me.  You know what that is?”  He shakes his head and I smile softy at him.  “I have you, Gohan.  You are just one gift that your father gave me.  You know he gave me two other gifts as well.  The first was his love.  Your father had and has such a big heart.  It smothers you and makes you feel all warm and safe.  Do you know what I am talking about, Gohan?” I ask gently.

 

The little boy nods his head hesitantly and looks up at me to continue.  “Well, even though he isn't here now.  If you concentrate, you can still feel that warm feeling deep inside.  That is your father's love for his family,” I pause briefly, drawing a deep breath.  “And I have one other gift from your father, but it is going to be a while before you see it.  You see Gohan; I'm going to have a baby.  Your father left you with a little brother or sister to love and take care of.”

 

His eyes widen and he nervously presses his head against my stomach, trying to sense the tiny lifeform within.  “I'm . . . I'm going to have a brother?” he whispers in awe.

 

“Or a sister,” I confirm.

 

“Oh Mom . . .” he breathes.  “I promise to help you take care of him,” he says in a solemn voice.

 

I give him a radiant smile.  “I was hoping you would say that, honey.”

 

“I won't let you down, Mom.”

 

“But I still want you to have fun and study.  You need to be a normal boy,” I admonish softy.

 

He gives me a tremulous smile.  “I don't think I can ever be `normal.'  But I wouldn't mind being happy.”

 

I gather him in my arms for a big hug.  “That's all I want too, honey.”
 

~ *~

 

Well that's it.  This is a stand-alone scene and will unlikely generate another story from it.  I like it how it is to be honest.  Short, sweet and sad all in one.

1/10/07: Minor edits - finally fixed the tense switches. It starts in present tense & ends in past - Oops. It is better now.