DBZ One Shots and Short Stories

4 / Guilt of an innocent child - Gohan x Goku

This is kinda short, but it is kind of an adder to the chapter 3 story, a little more insight of Gohan's thoughts

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What is death?

Some call it a miracle or hope, sent from the heavens to save us from this filth-ridden world. Some say it is the fires of hell, kissing our foreheads with fervent tongues.

What about the death of a loved one? What does that mean for others?

Most call it a curse, that no one deserves to die unless they were plagued by suffering. Death brings grief to not just one person, but all of those who were affected by the ripple of that being's existence.

What about the death of a hero? Does that not cause a fire passion of guilt and remorse? What about the fear of an everlasting presence that would always protect being suddenly ripped away, as though it were tiny granules of sand slipping through needy fingers.

A young boy looked on with distraught eyes, widened and hollow from the horrors of evil. He was now alone, and nothing could change it. His hands clenched open and shut us as he looked outwards, his gaze landing on nothing as his bottom lip trembled. His eyes would occasionally dart from left to right, panic laced beneath his dark eyes.

What if the hero was a father?

It didn't seem right for him to be by himself. He didn't mean for this to happen. All the power rushed to his head too hard, too fast, disorienting even the slightest of details beyond recognition.

What if they were killed by someone they knew? What if it could've been prevented?

The power in my body seemed to fizzle, slowly leaving my body in a non-graceful manner. It was all gone. The fight, the will, the spark, and even the hope. Why does one need hope if there is no future beyond this one moment? Beyond that of a blood curdling scream and a tremor that leaves a body rattled and broken on the ground?

What if the hero was killed by his son?

I didn't mean to. I really didn't mean for this to happen. It was a mistake, a fluke in one hundred different possibilities.

What if the person that killed the hero... was me?

When someone picked me up, my hands swung into view from behind a cloak of white. All that they were was red. Red knuckles, red veins. Clenching my eyes shut, I felt that the red in my veins was foreign, that the red in my veins should belong in another body, one that was worthy of living and breathing on the Earth.

The only thing relatable about the blood in my veins was the red hot need for an outlet, someone to batter with my revenge. Alas, this would never happen. The monster that drew out my inner demons was already dead, not even a cell of it's disgusting body still alive.

Just the thought of it's slimy green skin made me want to hurl. I could sense it now, we were near the lookout. My carrier set me down softly before calling for Dende. I tried to push his healing hands away, I knew I didn't deserve to heal. Not after my father willingly blew himself up because of my careless actions.

I refused to open my eyes, one look from their disappointed stares would be enough to send me over the edge. Soon, a man I knew well had pinned me down by my arms, hissing in anger. I heard him scold me but I wasn't there anymore. Instead, I was inside my own head, curled up in the farthest corners of my mind that not even the light could reach.

Soon, the warm light pulled away and my body felt renewed. I tried to sit up, but my stomach lurched. Leaning over to the side, I threw up what little contents of my stomach remained. Piccolo recoiled in disgust while Mr Popo began to clean it up. Shaking, I sat up, my head in my hands as tears managed to leak out from underneath my heavy eyelids.

I heard Shenron being summoned as I slowly stood up, facing the sky with hope but a glint of guilt sparkling through. Piccolo rested his hand on my shoulder, a sign of friendship and that I wasn't alone.

~^~^~

wait

I wasn't.... alone?

they don't blame me for this?

~^~^~

The wish was made to bring the hero back, but he declined, saying that we were better off without him. A new feeling blossomed in my stomach. I think it's anger. But what do I have to be angry about? He was probably just trying to get away from me.

I cry out to him, telling him I still need him and that I'm sorry. He doesn't reply, his voice fading into the distance as the wind carries it away.

I guess it's time to go home then. I guess it's time to tell a mother and wife that her husband is now dead, and her son is the murderer.

~^~^~

she doesn't hate me...

it's... not my fault..?

but then why is there this gaping hole in my chest...?

daddy... come back... please...

~^~^~

When Goten is born I realize that I guess the hero's always there. Even though we can't feel him, we can see him in the pictures around the house. Smell him in his old clothes. Hear him in our hearts.

I'm sorry daddy, I miss you. Please forgive me for my actions once I cross to otherworld.

I love you daddy. Forever and always.