Sins of the Past Chapter 1

I do not own Dragon Ball Z or Dragon Ball Super or any of its characters

The stars were sprinkled all across the night sky. Small buds of light that brought upon feelings of tranquility and relaxation. They shined above the world's inhabitants, to them they were symbols of this world's beauty. But for a certain young Saiyan half-breed they were silent witnesses to his sins. And sometimes he found that he preferred their company over actual people. They were with him as he flew across the sky they adorned and they were with him whenever he needed to be alone.

This was one of those times.

Son Gohan, that was his name. He had heard that it was a name he had a hand in choosing for himself. At least, that's what his family had always told him. He had been named after the original ancestor of their family. It was name he knew that he should've had pride in, but he didn't. Not because of its original possessor, but rather for the disgrace and shame he brought upon it.

And speaking of the Son family, they were back at their small home located in the middle of the wilderness. His mother, Son Chichi, had been busy putting his little brother, Son Goten, to bed when he left. With that, he decided that it was a good time to step out. It wasn't hard to convince her to let him be alone nowadays. The Son woman had always been known for her stubbornness and quick temper, but ever since his father's death, she had changed.

She wasn't as spunky or as lively as she used to be. Rather, she became more subdued and closed. The birth of his sibling certainly added to that though. But like always, she managed to pull through and remember what was important. He recalled her doing so despite the intense situations she found herself in. He admired her for being able to do so. He knew that most women would've just left it all behind had they been in her shoes. But Chichi wasn't the average human, she had proved that time and time again.

However, despite her determination to provide a home for his brother and him, Gohan knew that she was silently suffering. He could tell that despite all this time, she hadn't gotten over the death of her beloved husband. Every day she grieved, and that grief was projected in her new personality.

Then there was Goten. What was there to say about the little three year old? He was a blank slate when it came to all the suffering the world, and in their own family. Gohan blamed that on the innocence of childhood, that and the fact that he was born during peaceful times. Gohan hoped and prayed that his little brother would never have to go through was he was going through. The very thought of his pure and innocent little brother becoming tainted like him was too much for him to handle. And that's why he had to keep him away from all the evil in the world.

While he loved his mother and brother, they were his only family now after all, sometimes being around them was too much for the Saiyan hybrid. Being in the house with them was suffocating at times. His mother's grief and silent despair and his brother's innocence and naiveté only fueled Gohan's desire to be alone.

Being thirteen was already a difficult age as it was, but that took on a whole new meaning for him. He was only thirteen, and yet he had many responsibilities pertaining to not only his family, but to the world as well. He was their savior, and yet he felt far from being so.

That mantle had been passed down to him with his father's passing. Son Goku, the Earth's hero time and time again. Always ensuring that it would be safe in the long run, through any means necessary. And now that title and purpose belonged to him, it was something he had come to loath with his entire being. With that mantle came responsibilities that no child should have to deal with. Yes, he knew was wasn't as young as he used to be, but he was still just a kid. He shouldn't have such obligations.

And yet here he was. The Earth's savior and their only hope should some enemy come their way. So far, the only enemy had ever had to face on his own was a Galaxy Solider by the name of Bojack. His crew and him had been very formidable opponents. They almost lost everything that day, but somehow they managed to pull through. But the appearance of Bojack and his crew only served to add to Gohan's paranoia.

Then there was the pressure. The pressure of being all he could and had to be. He had to be a protector, someone everyone could rely on when they were in dire need. All eyes were on him. They were all watching him, he was on a high pedestal that he couldn't climb off of. They were all waiting for him to make some kind of mistake, so they could call him out for it and compare him to that of his pure father.

The constant thought of a villain appearing, knowing that they would only get worse as time went on, and the pressure of having to live up to his father and his friend's expectations had become too much for Gohan. He couldn't take it. He couldn't take it anymore!

He landed on the ground, close to a waterfall and in the middle of the forest. The sounds of the surrounding area were enough to put him at ease. He walked over to the stream and kneeled down before the running water. His reflection stared back at him as he did so, he always hated what he saw.

He saw a boy of thirteen, soon to be fourteen in a few weeks. He was dressed in a dark blue Chinese shirt with black pants and kung fu shoes. A hairstyle that resembled the one he possessed when he was nine years old stood on his head. His eyes and face matched that of his deceased father's, but his skin tone took its resemblance from his mother. Although, even that was growing similar to the late Son patriarch. His training sessions during the daytime helped with that, the sun had tanned his skin to resemble that of his father and brother.

It was like the world itself was trying to mold him into the hero everyone wanted him to be.

He walked away from the stream and sat down underneath the rocks that were molded around the waterfall. His body became hidden in the shadows, he was now out of sight. He also took the liberty to lower his ki, so no one would be able to sense him for what he was about to do. Not that anyone would come, and they were right to do so. The Z fighters, his father's friends, had taken the same approach as his mother. They all left him alone, because they didn't want to push the matter even further. They left him to grieve, and for that he was grateful.

They had stopped by to visit several times through the past years, but it remained as simple as that. Out of all of them, the three he had remained especially close to where the Namekian named Piccolo, the human warrior called Krillin and his new wife and child, Android 18 and Marron, and the odd couple known as Bulma and Vegeta, along with their son Trunks.

Then again, Gohan had always been close to Piccolo, his first mentor and friend outside his sheltered life. The Namekian had introduced him to the world of martial arts, although it wasn't done under the best of circumstances. But still, their bond started that day, and it continued until now. He was sure that Piccolo would always be there for him.

But despite that knowledge, he still didn't feel right about talking to Piccolo. As much as he trusted the Namekian, he knew that this was one thing he couldn't trust him with this. Mostly because Piccolo wasn't just his friend, he was also his father's friend as well. And that meant that he probably would've told everyone about his secret, simply because he owed that to Earth's former savior.

Gohan ran a hand through his hair before placing his face in the palm of his hands. He let out a small frustrated sigh as he rubbed his face. What had happened to him? How did he allow for things to get this bad? When had his life become such a living hell?

Despite asking, he knew the answers to all of those questions. How could he not?

The Cell Games.

He supposed that's where it all started. It wasn't his first fight, but it was the first time people ever relied on him to take care of the villain. Up until that point, Gohan had always been on the sidelines. Yes, he would actively participate in fights, but only when it was necessary. He knew that compared to other fighters like Vegeta and Piccolo, he was merely a small chain in the link. Probably the easiest one to break as well.

But that didn't seem to deter his father from thinking that he was capable of so much more. In fact, everyone seemed to have those expectations for him. After all, he was Son Goku's eldest son and child. Even Vegeta, despite being a very prideful and stubborn person, voiced his opinions on the matter several times before. Gohan had learned that Saiyan half-breeds were actually considered to be dangerous compared to the pure breeds. Apparently, Saiyans stayed away from breeding with other species for that purpose.

That is until his father broke that tradition, and he was the product of a union between a Saiyan and a human. He was the first Saiyan hybrid ever to be born. And that in itself presented more pressure to be the best and the strongest. And he was sure that position alone allowed for him to reach a level beyond Super Saiyan.

Super Saiyan Two.

He became more than any other Saiyan, he had performed the impossible. And it was that very same power that caused him to lose everything. He became the pillar of hope for his homeworld and his allies. His father had relied on him, trusted him, encouraged him… and in the end, abandoned him as well. He had failed in the worst possible way, he allowed his anger to blind him and take control over him.

And in the end, it costed him his father. It cost the world its greatest hero. It was all his fault, he was a failure. And when given the chance to remedy that failure, his father instead burned it into his very flesh. He made it to where that failure would never leave him, and for everyone to see it. Gohan went through a whirl of emotions that day. He felt as if he was ready to crack into two. He was breaking, and nobody seemed to realize that.

He had to be the one to deliver the news of his father's death to his mother. Needless to say that she broke down, inconsolable for the most part. His grandfather, the Ox King, had acted as the voice of reason. He reassured his crying daughter that everything was going to be fine, and that his father knew what was best. His mother seemed to be receptive to the comments, but not him. He had blocked them from his mind as he silently fumed over the matter.

How could his father make such a decision like that? How could he leave them behind so easily? How could he? Gohan felt like going Super Saiyan Two fight then and there. But he refrained from doing so for his mother's sake. Instead, he resided himself to his fate.

As if matters couldn't get even more complicated, he found out not too long after that his mother was pregnant. Pregnant with his little brother. Only nine and now had another person to look after besides his mother. With Goten's birth, meant that he was now officially the man of the house.

Don't get him wrong, he adored his little brother from the moment he was born. But looking at him only continued to remind him of his sins. He was reminded of his failure to bring his father home. He had failed as a son and as a brother. What good was he if he could do all of that in one siting?

He knew that he couldn't fault his mother for becoming pregnant. But he could fault his father for not coming back to help her raise their family. Finding out about her pregnancy only cemented Gohan's hatred for his paternal figure. It reminded him of why his father should've came back. Granted, he couldn't have known that would've been one of the outcomes, but still. Had he stayed, he would've known.

And for that he hated him… and himself. Believe it or not, but his father wasn't the one who warranted his intense wrath. That right was reserved for himself.

With that his descent into madness only increased. And the storm started to brew into an out of control hurricane. It was a feeling he just couldn't escape from, no matter how hard he tried. There were times where he could feel it taking over his body, sending him into a spiral of insanity.

But he had discovered a way to silence that storm. There was a way to make it all disappear, even if it was only for a little while. This is why was here to begin with, the storm had become too much once again. And he needed to be alone to ease it.

Gohan reached into his dark blue Chinese shirt and pulled out his most prized possession, the only thing that made him feel alive and in control of his life. He then adjusted it to the right setting, making sure that it stuck out as much as possible. What exactly was he holding?

A razor blade.

It was shining now that the stars hit its surface. Gohan simply stared at the small piece of metal, he couldn't help but run a finger down the edge. He admired how it retained its sharpness for the entire time he owned it. And that sharpness came in handy for him.

With nothing else needing to be said or done, he pulled up his long sleeve. Remnants of his past ventures were littered all across his arm, both of his arms as a matter of fact. Which was why he tended to favor long sleeves nowadays. Nobody had questioned such a preference, then again nobody questioned anything when it came to him.

He didn't care though, this fact only served to aid him in his ventures. And speaking of that, it was time to add to his collection. He slowly leveled the razor above his arm, just below his wrist. His aim was to hurt, not to kill. He had no intention of dying despite his self-harming actions. That was the coward's way out. And if he died now, he would be no better than his father.

And that was something he could not handle. He placed the razor down on the patch of skin and slowly dragged it across. He made sure to place a good amount of pressure on it as he did so. His efforts bore fruit as the skin opened and blood began to pour out of the gaping wound. The sight and feeling made Gohan moan a little, but in relief rather than pain.

He closed his eyes and bent his head backward a little, allowing himself to bask in the sweet relief he had given himself. He felt better, the raging storm inside had subsided… for now. But he knew all too well that the feeling would return. And he would have to remedy it once again.

But it didn't matter, after the Cell Games nothing mattered to him anymore. That was his lowest point in life, his rock bottom. He didn't think anything after that event could make him feel that way again. And so, he didn't care. He continued to bask in the feeling of being torn apart, before pulling out something else from his shirt. A piece of cloth, to get rid of the evidence, and to start over again.

He wiped the blood away, careful to avoid causing more to open from the wound. He then made sure that it was closed enough to add another one to his arm. It was at times like this that he was thankful for his Saiyan half. He was sure that was the main reason why his self-inflicted wounds healed easily and beautifully. There were faint traces of white lines, but nothing that would've stood out too much.

And so, he repeated the cycle once again and then again. Each time he experienced the same relief from the pain he caused to himself. This was what made him feel alive, and it made him feel like he had control over his life. He was the one in charge, no one else. It troubled him to know that he had hurt himself in order to feel anything anymore. And this wasn't the only time he had a chance to do so.

Training presented many opportunities for him to be hurt. Piccolo and Vegeta had been his main sparing partners lately. They wanted to ensure that he didn't become weak or soft despite the peaceful times. At first he had been hesitant to do so. Mostly because training had brought back too many painful reminders of the past. But surprisingly his mother had been okay with the idea. Keep in mind that this was the same woman who pushed him to study so much before, and now she wanted him to become the person his father was.

A fighter. A hero.

He didn't know whether to feel sorry or be angry with her for such support. Granted, she still wanted him to study every now and again, but she allowed for him to have more time to himself nowadays. And it was during those times that Vegeta or Piccolo would collect him for training. And this was when Gohan realized that he got some kind of sick pleasure from being hurt, not the arousal kind but the relief kind. He felt relieved whenever he was hurt. Almost as if he was being broken into more pieces.

However, he discovered that wasn't enough. He needed to do more. He needed to break himself even more than he already was. It was the only way he could feel together. And that's when he discovered the answer to his problem, self-harm.

His father had broken him in half, and now the others were adding to that breakage. But he had been the one who finish what his father had started. In the end, he was the one who was breaking what was already broken. And strangely enough, Gohan felt better being that way, than being whole. This was his new reality.

Altogether, he had three new scars for his collection. He felt better than he did earlier, and with that done, he knew it was time for him to return home. He made sure that the blood had been completely wiped from his arm before helping the wounds close. He then wiped down the razor before wrapping it in the cloth and placing it back into his shirt. Pulling his sleeve down was the last thing he needed to do before it was time to go.

With that done and over with, he took to the skies and flew back home, no one none the wiser to his antics. And he wanted to keep it that way, them knowing would've only added to their everyday burdens. They had plenty to deal with without him adding to that. He couldn't handle the thought of being responsible for that, and so he kept quiet and to himself.

Honestly, he knew that they would be disappointed in him if they ever found out. It wouldn't be the first time, but he had no more room in his life for any more of it. He knew that he was playing a dangerous game, but it became an addiction to him at this point. He needed to cut, he needed to experience that feeling of relief, and he needed to be free.

It was those few moments that Gohan lived for nowadays. He found that to be incredibly selfish of him, but no one could understand what he was going through. However, he did know that no one could possibly help him at this point. He was on his own, and that was a burden he was going to have to live with.

At least until the next time he had to remedy that pain. However, unbeknownst to him, there would soon more to add to his plate of burdens.

Meanwhile, in a world similar to that of the demi Saiyan's, laid the bodies of many fallen deities. They were not the first causalities of the timeline, many heroes had last their lives in the previous battles that came before. Not to mention the multitude of causalities the world had suffered, the ones who got caught in the crossfire. But the deities' demises were definitely the most prominent losses of the universe. With their deaths, came the end of any hope the world had for a savior.

However, despite the mass destruction and slaughter, one deity in particular managed to survive. But even he knew that his time would soon be up. He had been gravely wounded to a degree that couldn't be fixed as quickly or easily as usual. But he was determined to make the most of his last minutes, even if it meant dying in other world far from his own.

And he wasn't alone in his venture either. His injured angelic attendant stood by his side as they prepared themselves for what they were about to do. The two of them walked into the deeper depths of their planet, an area restricted to any deity and visitor. It was their last resort for this matter, but it had to be done if they were to defeat the villain that slaughtered their kind so mercilessly. The attendant walked over to a control panel and pushed the correct buttons.

His efforts bore fruit as a hidden compartment located underneath the floor opened. Out came an old piece of machinery they felt that they had no use for until now. Being a deity meant that the limits were virtually little to none, that's why they had stored the machine rather than used it. And what exactly was this technology?

It was a time machine.

Under normal circumstances, they could travel to other timelines with ease. But their grievous bodily injuries had prevented them from using their abilities to the fullest. And so they had been forced to rely on old technology for transport. It saddened them to know that this was their only hope now. Because there were no guarantees this would work. The biggest worry they both had was that they wouldn't be able to reach their destination in time, or they would end up in the wrong area. And if that happened, then their efforts would've been in vain.

But the risk was worth it if it meant destroying the evil that destroyed their world so easily. A cat-like deity limped over to the machine and opened up the hatches. He grunted as he did so, every movement he made hurt. He was literally working through the pain at this point, as was his attendant. But they had to so this, for the sake of their universe… and for the sake of other universes as well.

"Sir," the attendant addressed. "Are… are you sure this is the right course of action to take?"

The deity adjusted the seat to match his height before turning to his attendant.

"Now's not the time for doubt Whis," he grunted. "I've seen it for myself."

"With all due respect Lord Beerus, but your dreams are rarely accurate."

The deity knew that all too well, it was the main reason why none of their kind saw this sudden attack coming. Divination was one of their key abilities, but they were not prophets. Most of the time, their dreams rarely came to pass. Beerus had assumed his recent string of prophecies were just that. But then this happened, and as a result, it was too late for any of them to stop it. He forced himself to sit down on the seat, despite the pain that shot through his body as he did so.

"Yes, but sometimes we have to leave it up to fate," Beerus said. "If there's even a single chance to beat that maniac, then we have to take it."

As much as he wanted to argue, Whis knew that this was not the time or place to do so. This was the end for the both of them, they knew that much. But they wouldn't allow their deaths to be in vain. They would only hope and pray that their actions would lead to a good outcome for the whole multiverse.

"Be that as it may, we can't say for certain if the boy will be able to withstand it."

Beerus rested his head against the seat's cushion, trying to gather as much energy and strength he would need for his task at hand. He knew all too well that his plan could and would have some serious consequences. Most of them pertained to the young boy Beerus had dreamed of, the chosen one. He had dubbed him as such, but even the greatest of heroes could fall. His world had proven that time and time again, but if everyone played their cards right, then there was a chance. And that's all he needed at this point.

"Regardless he may be our only hope at this point."

And so, he forced his head up as he looked down at the controls of the time machine. He recalled the coordinates Whis had given him and entered them into the system. The machine started to boot itself up as Beerus leveled himself back into a comfortable position. All the while Whis watched him, as was his duty. Despite this being Whis's mission as well, he had altered Beerus that he would be unable to travel with him.

As a god's attendant, it was his responsibility to protect them. In this case he would buy some time for Beerus to escape, and hopefully make it to the right destination in time. And as if on cue, they felt their planet shake. The vibrations were enough to knock Whis off his feet, and Beerus to stumble a little. Whis forced himself off the ground and gave Beerus a serious expression.

"He's here," Whis stated.

"That's obvious," Beerus replied. "I'm afraid this is the last time we'll ever see each other Whis."

The angelic attendant gave the deity a sad smile before standing tall. Despite their terrible situation, he was determined to give his master a proper send off. He bowed before the god, his smile never wavering as he did so.

"It has been my honor to serve you Lord Beerus."

Beerus smiled and let out a small chuckle.

"Thank you for your service Whis," he stated. "Hopefully we'll get to see each other… wherever we go."

"Hopefully so."

Another loud blast rocked the planet, and with that they knew it was time to go. Beerus closed the time machine's hatches and typed some more on the control panel. The machine started to lift itself off the ground, all the while the attendant watched in silence. The cake-like deity gave his comrade one last look before the wall in front of them exploded. Rocks were sent flying all over the place, some of them even hit the time machine. But thankfully it didn't affect the process.

Beerus gave a glare to the hidden enemy as they stepped through the debris they created. Whis turned around to give him the same glare, he held his staff tightly as he prepared himself for the villain to come. The foe looked up to see the last deity in the time machine, they raised a hand and sent out a blast towards him. But the time machine was quicker than that as it suddenly disappeared, with Beerus in tow.

Instead, the blast hit the ceiling, causing more rocks to fall to the ground. Whis managed to dodge them before turning his attention back to the enemy. The foe gave him an annoyed yet hated filled look before speaking.

"Where did he go?" the foe questioned.

Whis would rather die than tell this vile being the answer to that question.

"Who knows?" Whis asked.

Despite that, the enemy let out a wicked laugh.

"Is that so?" they responded. "Well, I have a pretty good idea on what he's going to do. But you're in my way. If you leave now, I might just give you a less painful death."

Then he laughed again, an evil grin was on his face as he did so.

"Well, less painful than that of your fallen comrades."

Whis growled a little before tightening his grip on his staff. If he was going to die, he would die fighting. The enemy saw this and let out a frustrated sigh.

"If that's how you're going to be then fine," they said. "But in your last moments, just remember that I did offer you a way out."

With that the two opponents got into their fighting stances. They stood silent for several seconds before unleashing their raw strengths against one another. Despite being on opposite sides, the two of them knew how important this battle was. It would determine the fate of the future, and the multiverse as they knew it.

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