Love, A Game..

Chapter 11

On the morning of the Cell Games, four figures might have been observed taking off from Capsule Corp front lawn and heading for the World Martial Arts Tournament to compete in the fight to save their world.

Their leader was Son Goku - hero, saviour, legend in his own lifetime. He carried the fate of the planet on his shoulders, and yet only the faintest shadow in his sea-green eyes betrayed the weight of this responsibility. Anyone who didn't know him well enough to read the minute signals of his concern would have sworn that the permanent Super Saiyan was careless and trouble-free.

The next two in the group flew close together. The taller was a teenager, lavender-haired, azure-eyed, and sinfully attractive. His younger counterpart had a shock of wild white-gold hair match with innocent emerald eyes in a face both young enough to be cute and old enough to be handsome. Trunks and his eleven-year-old koibito Gohan were even now holding a telepathic conversation, unable to keep apart from each other mentally or physically for more than a few minutes at a time. (A/N: kawaii ... ^__^)

Following a little behind the others came Vegeta, the Saiyan prince whose pride made him attend the Cell Games to challenge the android even though he'd been beaten to within an inch of his life the last time they met. An omnipresent scowl darkened Vegeta's face and he flowered at the ground passing below him as though it was responsible for his defeat at Cell's hands ten days ago.

::Hey Trunks, your dad looks pretty angry:: said Gohan telepathically, after taking a quick look back at Vegeta.

Trunks sneaked a glance at his father and had to agree. ::Yeah, I guess it's cos Cell really embarrassed him last time they fought. You know what his pride is like:: The two demi-Saiyans shared a smile; both were well acquainted with the prince's ego.

::Hey Trunks:: came the chibi's mental voice again ::are you nervous?::

The teenager paused, considering. If he was truly honest with himself, then yes, he was apprehensive about the fast-approaching World Martial Arts Tournament. But the twinge of fear he sensed in his koibito's feelings stirred in him a sort of protectiveness. Putting as much confidence in his tone as he could, he replied ::No, I'm not. Trunks your dad, Gohan, he knows what he's doing::

There was a second's pause before Gohan stated flatly ::You are nervous::

::You got me:: smiled Trunks ruefully. ::But that doesn't mean I don't trust Goku. It's just ... we don't really know anything about how powerful Cell really is::

::I've never met him:: said Gohan in a low voice, ::but I know what he looks like. When I was in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber, I had a fever ... and he ... he came into my dreams. It was horrible:: The chibi's mental tone was becoming broken by the pain of memory. ::He ... he just appeared and - he killed my mother - Piccolo...::

"Shh..." Trunks reached across and stroked Gohan's face, wiping away the moisture beading at the corners of the boy's eyes. "Don't worry, koi. He'll get his today, I promise."

***

Gohan stared. Only the sheer morbid curiosity of it all prevented him from closing his eyes against the painfully stupid display taking place in the ring at the time. Sometimes, when he encountered humans like this one, the eleven-year-old Saiyan wondered why, exactly, he and the other Z fighters put so much effort into saving this planet time and time again.

"I'm gunna spank you, Cell! Ya hear me? You're gunna be cryin' for your mommy by the time I'm through with you! Ahahahaha!"

::What ... a ... moron::

Hearing Trunks' opinion of the afro-headed Neanderthal, Gohan silently agreed. A moron indeed. It was pitiful, really, the immense ignorance this Hercule guy was displaying. He truly had no idea what he was up against.

Hercule, the People's Champion, was currently laying into Cell with everything he had. Needless to say, the android wasn't blinking an eyelid. After putting up with about thirty seconds of the aggravating human's pathetic attempts to make him flinch, Cell casually extended one arm in a knife hand block and sent Hercule flying two hundred feet through the air to smash into a cliff face. The former World Martial Arts champion hung there suspended for a moment, as though gravity itself was too shocked by his defeat to bother paying attention to the laws of the universe, before quietly falling and landing unceremoniously in an undignified heap at the base of the cliff.

Even as the reporter blinked in dumbfounded amazement, even as Hercule's two protégés and their ditzy announcer girl gaped like stunned mullets, even as the entire planet watching the Cell Games on live TV did a simultaneous mass goldfish impersonation, Son Goku stepped into the ring.

Now the real tournament would begin.

Gohan reached for the hand of the lavender-haired demi-Saiyan beside him and gripped it tightly in both of his own, drawing comfort and reassurance from the strength of the teenager's hold. He took a deep, nervous breath.

And the party started.

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You know what?, I'm dying.. 😢😢

Say what you want to say..