Him/Her

What I Remember Best, Truly…

Your Face, So Red, and My Heart, So Blue

Up.

Up.

Up.

I lift my body over and over again, but I never make it quite high enough to Snake Way. And the gravity, it weighs down on my body in such an unnatural way. I never really was the best jumper, anyway.

I traverse through these dark fields for hours upon hours, time melts away into some awful, amorphous blob. Still, I think about you.

I would have liked to tell you a story, but you hate my stories anyway. You raise your thick brows and roll your eyes, and your handsome face is taken with an ugly boredom.

I'd have painted you a picture, but you don't want to see me these days. I'm struck with the memory of your back turned and how dismissive your voice sounded when you asked if I needed anything else.

Would have wanted to sing you a song, but you never wanted to dance, after all. I'd say that you'd shrink away from my touch, but as memory serves, I don't really remember the last time we touched.

Memory is so toxic. One minute, it happened. The next, it didn't.

Then, I remember the sound of your voice that day you spat out, "It happened. The end."

I could roll around in bed all night, thinking about those arms wrapped around me. I could sleepwalk through life, if only it meant a few more images of you in my head. If only they were less fuzzy. If only we hadn't come to this place.

They say that Hell is other people, but to be honest, it's pretty lonely in Hell. I mean, she's here, and that's… great. Hell is hunger and sadness and unbearable frustration. Hell is like your cold silence. Hell is...

Thought, I really thought, that it was other people, but I was told to think again. So Hell is inside of me, sitting here in this awful place with bleeding wrists and a broken fist and my own thoughts taunting me. I smell the drug around me, but there's nothing here. Hell is a horrific mistake, it's a comedic, ironic, fucking hysterical joke at which no one laughs because there's no one here but me and I can't laugh at anything.

It's like an awful ghost limb, following me throughout this whole place. The pain that's not really there, the heartache over an event that seems so small and far away. The sun here is heavy, it makes me sleepy and dumb.

I try to remember things, to make it easier, because I like easy things. I remember my mom, my cat, my dad and my brother. I remember back in the days when I thought I would be happy if only someone loved me. I remember the day I realized that I was loved, and I still wanted more. I remember the uncertainty and the confusion, I remember trembling on graduation day because Mom and Dad were there and they were going to ask me again what I'd like to do with all those useless degrees I got.

Not such a smart girl after all, Bra.

Pride worn away, brain eaten up, I decided the answer was in a nightclub, in a lighter, a drink, or under someone else's bed. I even sort of miss that, the irreverence, not caring, not worrying about higher powers at work.

Oh, God, is this what it is to get old? Maybe Hell's not other people, maybe Hell is merely sitting alone with yourself while the clock ticks along, indifferently set upon an unmoving wall.

And as for Gohan, I don't even think about the good times anymore, I don't even bother. Still, something aches.

Because when I do think of those funny things you said, I realize that I've been laughing through tears- and my face, still wet from those things you said, contorts with horror when it suddenly realizes that there's nothing here. That nothingness is just as awful as anything else in this place, the food that I can't eat, the air that's hard to breathe, the heat and then the cold, the numbness and overstimulation and all of the contradictory torture that falls in between, and there's nothing to shove inside of the hole that stops these feelings, that makes the emptiness fade away. What's a girl left to do? If I wallow in you, I'm going to fade away.

And yet… if I let go, I think that most of myself will fade into that breeze as well. For so long my life has been you and not anything else that there may be no other form of me. Seems to be the addiction part of it all, that there's no me without you, that there's no me without some pill to make me sleep or some gaseous mass that fills my lungs and invades my brain's space and takes away the darker thoughts.

Another version of myself smiles at me, waving every now and again, and I smell it.

"Why do you get to smoke?" I said, whipping around.

She smiles, "Because you're the one in Hell."

"I thought you said you're me!" I shouted, and with difficulty I rushed at her. I just wanted it, put it to my lips, to take it in my lungs. I grab at it. I grab at her, in vain.

As we struggle, I grab at her: her face, her eyes, her hair. I shout, "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!"

And she giggles from behind me, "I am you! I am you! I am you!"

And yet her hands are always out of reach. I stretch and she pulls back. Over and over again, devoted to the scuffle, we roll down and down and down.

It disappears when I get close. She's pleased, because of course she is. What a person, what a place. We're all here in a world designed to scare, designed to cause pain. It sort of reminds me of the way your voice has faded away to nothing.

What do you need, more than you need the drug? More than you need the part of yourself- when you handed over your lungs, when you let them take your body, when you have finally coughed out your blackened heart, what do you still need?

And, what do you want? What matters more than intoxication, more than a cheap thrill, more than 'he doesn't love you anymore'?

"He never did, you know."

I looked up, blinking a little bit.

"If true love hurts, why, this must be so embarrassing for you, that this is nowhere near…" She dusts herself off, looking around. Then, she remarks, "My, how far we've gone."

I turn away from her, trying to avoid giving her the satisfaction.

Because pride. Because I don't know what.

Because I don't know where I am, but suddenly, something up ahead catches my attention.

Something… colorful.

Fatherhood:

A Story About Our Mistakes

It all started with an innocent conversation, and ended in violence. I guess that's how it always goes. You can't really blame Bra, she doesn't even kill bugs, I don't think that it's in her nature.

I don't think she really knows, I don't think that she really understands, as the daughter of Bulma and Vegeta, that her gentle nature and soft heart are absolute miracles. In this warrior's world, no one ever wanted Bura to fight. Now she's all alone, fighting for herself, and we can't save her.

Maybe that's what it is that first attracted her to Gohan. Gohan was forced to fight, even when his heart resisted it. Bra never had to fight, and when she found out we did… well…

"What?" She asked, shocked face, open lips.

"Bra, calm down," I said, laughing, ruffling her hair. She's probably eleven, twelve. She's not even a teenager. She didn't even know. I turn back to my computer.

We're sitting in my room. I'm at my desk, typing up an analytics report for work. Mom wanted it in two weeks, I was going to give it to her in two days. I'd just started working with her, and I wanted to prove to her that I could do everything better and faster than everyone else.

Bra sighs, loudly.

"Well, what is it, then?" I ask, a little bit absently.

She stands, I think she was expecting me to look up. I didn't.

"You just said Dad killed someone!" She shouted, stomping her foot a little bit. She was wearing her favorite dress, she barely ever changed out of it those days.

I swallowed, because I actually said 'people' not 'someone'. "Well, I mean, you're a real princess, though." I said, smiling. "Dad's a prince and everything."

Bra frowned, "Why did he kill someone? Was it a fighting tournament?"

Oh, she's so naive. This is what happens when you try to put all of the past into a box, when you try to hide it. "Well… no. I mean, probably not, not that I know of, anyway. Well, except for that one time, but that was the crowd, really, not like, an opponent-"

"I'm sorry, what?" Bra squeaked, spinning me around in the chair. "Okay, this is serious. Spill it."

"There's nothing to spill," I said, a bit too awkwardly. "I mean, I guess I thought you knew. Maybe you should talk to Mom about this-"

"Mom said that dad was a tough guy!"

"Yeah," I said, shrugging a bit, "I mean, that's true."

"She never said that he killed a crowd-"

"I mean, he felt really bad about it after he wasn't possessed anymore."

Bura raises a brow. I sense her impatience.

"So, look, I just don't- I don't think we should talk about this."

"Oh, no, I'm not going to go anywhere. You're going to tell me everything." Her face is getting red. Even then, she could be so difficult.

I sighed, and turned to save my work.

"Hello!" She snapped.

"Okay, close the door."

With suspicious eyes, she follows the directive.

"So, you know that Dad's a prince."

"Yeah, he's a Saiyan."

"And the planet was destroyed-"

"Trunks!" Bra hissed.

"I'm just-"

"You're stalling."

"Look, Dad's had a really hard life." There, I said it.

Bra's not convinced.

"When Planet Vegeta was destroyed, Frieza took dad. Dad's whole family, his planet, everything he ever knew- it was gone. He was really young."

Bra taps her nails on her arm.

"And, well, you know." I said, sighing, "I mean, he was a part of an army, right? He was in wars and-"

"That's not what Pan said. Pan said that her dad said that Dad was a space pirate."

This is the first time that I curse Gohan. I'd always liked Gohan, at least before everything, but when it comes to Bra, apparently he's always been a source of conflict. She was such a sheltered girl, you know? How were we supposed to tell her? She was traumatized when we tried to explain that she was an alien. She always agonized over being "abnormal". She was so unlike Goten and Pan. She was so unlike me. I was so thrilled. It all seemed so natural.

So we didn't like, hide anything from her. We just avoided talking about it. And besides, we were living in a peaceful time. She knew Dad was a fighter. Look, it's not a lie by omission or anything, it's more like, it didn't come up, on purpose.

Even so, she was staring at me with watery blue eyes, asking if our father ever murdered anyone in cold blood.

I mean, what do you say? How was I supposed to tell the girl I'd loved so dearly from the day that she was born that the circumstances of our father's young adulthood were dreary at best?

"Bra…" I said, slowly. "I think, I think you just need to understand-"

"What? That he's killed people? And Mom married him?"

"Bra, he was living in some pretty impossible circumstances. He was a lost man for a long time."

"Just tell me this," she asked, looking me in the eye in a way that made me more uncomfortable than I can say, "was he as mean as they say? Did he come to Earth to kill everyone?"

I swallow. Bra storms out of the room. I didn't have to say anything.

Anger

and Accusations

"Well now, look at who has decided to join the party!"

I look around. I thought for just an instant that I saw Bra, standing just there where Videl had been before. But the sky was different, rust-red and smelling of copper and blood. The warm wind blew sand in my eyes and they began to water. As distorted as my vision was, I could see her. There, the princess stood. Her hair and clothes were dishevelled and she was shouting at something, but I couldn't see what. Red faced, seething, I thought to call out to her, but she faded away, or I faded away, or something. Everything blurred out of view.

And then, I was here. A flash, that's all. I know this place, this is the cloudy grove of the Supreme Kai. He is standing in front of me, with arms crossed angrily over his chest.

"What… happened?"

"Wished to go see Bura, did you?"

Over the Kai's shoulder, my father stood. Behind him, Vegeta. My father's expressionless face fixed on me, while Vegeta's flushed with rage.

Bra's dad took a wild swing at me, but mine grabbed his shoulder and reeled him back around. Incensed, the two began sparring, "You can't protect him this time, Kakarot!"

My dad let him land the punch. He fell backwards. Vegeta looked pretty insulted.

The Kai stepped forward again, beginning to move down the path. "Enough, you two." He turns keen, black eyes to me.

Oh, the job I have done at concealing all of this, all of these horrible mistakes.

I manage to ask, "Was that her, I think I just saw her-"

"Nevermind all that! What makes you think that you can go if Vegeta, if your sainted father couldn't even go? Your halo's been looking a quite a little bit amber these days, young man!"

I coughed a bit. "I was just trying to help her-"

"Help her!" Vegeta scoffed.

My father stayed silent. He only looked from Vegeta to the Kai, and then back to me.

"I think you've done enough, indeed." The Kai said sourly.

"Look, I feel like there's been some misunderstanding. We've been trying to wish Bra back with the Dragonballs and-"

"Still worrying about that silly girl!" In exasperation, he raises his hands to the sky. "I ought to let Vegeta take a crack at you."

With a dark glance, Bra's father says, "Nothing would please me more." He's cracking his knuckles, he's getting into a fighting stance. This time, my dad pays it no mind.

And I think he means it, and I know he's trained longer and harder than I have. I know he has surpassed me in strength, and I have nothing to say in response.

"I'm not worried about her- I mean, I don't care that she-" I stopped myself. My father raises a brow. "What I'm trying to say is that I've been focusing on my own family, but it seems like something has-"

"Focusing on your own family!" He scoffs. The Kai pointed a shaking finger at me, "You were supposed to be training your own daughter, not sleeping with Vegeta's!"

"It only happened once," I blurted out.

I think that the vein in Vegeta's forehead may burst. He looks at me with eyes glittering with a murderous rage I'd long forgotten.

The Kai raised a brow, "You going to stand there any lie to me, sonny boy?"

Then he chuckled, ha, hah, because 'son', you get it?

The Kai turned around, now facing the three of us. "None of you are to interfere, you hear me? The girl made her choice, and she's going to stay there until we have decided that she has atoned appropriately."

"But she's in Hell!" I hissed. "Someone's got to do something."

"Not a word out of any one of you!" The Kai said. "And if anyone's going to go fetch her, it's not going to be you," he points a finger at Vegeta, who responds with a wild-eyed grunt, "or you," he says, pointing to me.

I stared. "But I-"

"You have done quite enough. When the time is right, Goku will go fetch her- and not a minute before."

I turned to my father, who looked back at me. Of course he's going to save the day, it's always him. I cross my arms over my chest and we follow the Kai, hoping to soften his anger.

You Meant Everything

(To Me)

"Gohan?"

I could swear I saw him, just for a second.

"You're just dreaming again. Remember, when he said he wanted distance? Remember, when he said that he wanted you on the other side of the universe?"

I swallow. It's true; Gohan isn't here, I was just imagining things. He feels so real in some moments. The concern on his face looked real. I could almost smell him. Even so, he's someone else's star, someone else's heart, and I should have said goodbye a long time ago. I should have said goodbye before it was too late to say anything at all and all I have are fading images of kind eyes in the darkest part of the Other World.

She's saying something, but I'm not listening, because right above where Gohan's head was, there's a tree. And it's a real tree. All of a sudden, the grass turns green. It's on top of a huge hill.

It's… beautiful.

Mesmerizing, it glints in the sunlight of the bloody-colored day.

I think I did it, I think I found the end of Hell.

As if flipping the pages of a book, I simply walked from one part of the path to the next, and the air lightens. The sunlight is golden. There's a babbling brook somewhere.

The air is sweet and the flowers are blooming. There's life, there's light, this is a wonderful place full of hope and wonder.

Re-energized, I start running through the field. It seems to go on forever, but I can hear it… music…

Fatherhood:

A Story About Redemption

(And the lack thereof)

Red-faced, Bura rushes to the Gravity Chamber. "You killer! Murderer!"

She's kicking at the outside, pounding on it with her little hands.

Eventually the machine stops whirring, and Dad exits. His chest is still heaving from his training session. He looks over at her, brow lifted, and sarcastically, he asks, "Can I help you?"

"You're a murderer!"

Clearly, Dad had no idea what to really say. He was comfortable with this fact, and yet he was clearly torn about the look on Bra's face, "I'm a Saiyan, and I do what I have to do to stay alive."

"What about your so-called pride?" Bra shouts, getting closer to his face, "Killing whole planets! Murdering innocent people!"

"I see you've been talking to your brother," Dad sends me a look, and I'm suddenly nervous.

"I-uh, she just came asking questions and I didn't-"

Dad rolls his eyes and squares his shoulders at Bra, "Look, girl, if I didn't love you and your mother so much, I'd have blown up this whole planet long ago."

Good job, Vegeta, like that's supposed to be helpful.

"No!" Bra says, defiant, "Pan says that her dad says that his dad wasn't going to let that happen."

I can sense my father's mood sour, and his good humor evaporates.

"Good thing that Goku's so much stronger than you are, because you're a murderer!" Bra's done it now, she thumps her fist against his chest. He allows her to do it the first few times, until she says, "You're pathetic! You're the most piss-poor excuse for a man I've ever known!"

Then he catches her fist.

"Dad…" I slowly say, "Dad, she's upset-"

"Silence."

"Dad- don't!"

But it was too late. He grabbed her by the scruff and inside the Gravity Chamber they went.

I pounded on the outside until there were dents in the door. I don't really know what happened between them, but I know Bra was never really the same happy little girl after that. Someone took something from her that day, her ability to believe that she was a princess living in a perfect world.

She loved our father, absolutely adored him. And when she learned of his past, she hated him for it. She was bitter for nearly a year.

Who could blame the girl? She was so good-hearted and sweet. She wanted everyone to get along. Her favorite movie was a Barbie flick in which there was literally no conflict. Bra was just like that, she wanted everything to be happy and perfect and she cried at the pain of others. No one prepared her for this, and no one prepared her for her first and only training session with Dad.

I don't think that she was ever really ready to grow up. Then, when she had to, she took it all out on Dad. Someone she loved and admired more than anything was a flawed person, and apparently, it was just too much for her to handle.

Demons

In My Head

I didn't travel far before I came to the top of the hill, and there was some sort of monster, some sort of animal in the tree.

"Well, well…" I hear a sickly sweet voice coming up, from a cocoon in the tree. "Hello, pretty girl, you look awful familiar."

The field was beautiful, but the thing in the tree was an ugly monster in some sort of protective cocoon. I approached slowly. "Is… is this still Hell?"

With a velvet-smooth voice, the monster responded: "Oh yes, but you've come quite far, I don't get visitors very often."

"Where… am I?" I looked around, "It's so beautiful here. Is this all… for you?"

"You could say that," the monster responded. "Whatever is a soft, little creature such as yourself doing in a place like this?"

I hesitated, watching his dark eyes. They were like rubies, or slaughter.

"You're not afraid of me, girl, are you?"

I straightened a little bit, "I'm not afraid of anything." It was a lie, of course, but he didn't seem to mind.

"You know, I always used to ask my slaves a question: 'Are you more hungry or afraid?' And it was so delicious, because even when they didn't give me a straight answer, I could tell that each and every one of them experienced such horrible fear that they could hardly feel anything else."

"Why are you… telling me this?"

"New company, of course." He sneered, looking casual in his cocoon, "They had no hunger, not for food, nor honor, nor power. Not when they had to face me in battle, at least. There was only one I ever knew who had a hunger inside so great that he wasn't afraid, even when he should have been, and he's," a laugh, "well, he's probably still dealing with his massive inferiority complex."

"Who are you?" I ask, raising a tentative brow.

He ignores the question, he just keeps talking wistfully, "Welcome to Hell, young lady. It appears that you've come to the place where all of your nightmares can be found."

"Look, I'm here by accident." I said, crossing my arms over my chest, "I just need to figure out how to get out."

He looks interested for all of a moment, but instead he asks, "Young girl, do tell me, you look so familiar, have I seen you before?"

"No, I don't, I don't think so."

"Surely you would know, if you'd met the great Lord Frieza." He grins at me, teeth all showing, and even though he is enclosed, I feel the chill of fear's cold fingers tapping at the base of my neck.

Brave or Stupid?

A Story About a Princess

"How was it?" Trunks asked, applying a cold compress to my eye.

"He said that one day he'd tell me all about Frieza, but until that day, it's time I learned some respect."

To my surprise, Trunks laughs. I frown at him, although it hurts to contort my face at all. "Looks like you survived your first training session with Dad."

"He beat me up." I said, nursing my jaw.

"I think he was trying to show you the Saiyan side of himself, which yes, is sometimes painful." Trunks looked over at me knowingly, even thoughtfully, "Sometimes, that's how Dad shows his affection."

But never to me, that's not how we were. "He hit me." I said it, low and angry.

"Did he tell you to dodge?"

I was silent, because he did, but he knew that I couldn't. And he knew that I never thought he would lay a finger on my head.

"Let me give you a tip, in case you ever end up back in there-"

"Back in there!" I squeaked, "Never!"

"Just, in case you run your mouth again and you do, if he tells you to dodge, you'd better do it, because he thinks that everything is fair game after your warning."

"I can't believe that you don't think that this is a huge deal!" I hissed at my brother and his laughing eyes. His body, so cool and reclined at his desk.

"Look, Dad started training me pretty early on."

"That's not training, that's… that's… abuse!"

Trunks just shook his head. "You're a Saiyan; there's a thin line."

Mom was pretty pissed, but Dad said that it was high time I found out. He called me soft, he said I was spoiled, he said that I didn't know how to fight or how to survive.

My brother said it the first time, with love and care, because I had to go and provoke Vegeta, "You're pretty brave, kiddo."

But here's the truth: I cried, I cried hard, and I wasn't brave at all. I didn't run because I couldn't run. I didn't hide because there was nowhere to go.

Bravery isn't bravery when it is compelled by circumstances.

Complications

"Something's wrong." The Kai said, frowning.

"Wrong?" Vegeta asked, arms crossed over his chest.

I looked over at the Kai, "What do you mean?"

A crystal ball appears from a puff of smoke. He waves his hand over it, and we see an image of hell.

"What's this?" Dad asks, but we all see it.

"Looks like she's made it to the edge of the Hellscape." The Kai says, musing, "I'm a bit impressed."

"Impressed! She's in danger!" Vegeta says, and his worry is palpable. "We have to go get her, now!"

"No, we can't," the Kai says, moving his hands behind his back, "we'll just have to see what happens."

Monsters

(In My Bed)

I know I've heard the name before, but I don't really know where. "I guess you must have known my mom, or my dad, or Goku I guess."

Or Gohan.

Frieza's eyes widen with the name "Goku", but then he regains composure. "So who, young lady, may I ask," he trembles a little bit ask he asks this, "who, pray tell, is your father?"

I stare at him, unsure of whether or not I should respond. He's incensed. He's bound up here for a reason.

"Come now, girl, you can see that I'm all tied up here, I won't do you any harm, I just want to know so that we can be properly acquainted. In fact, it seems like you're trying to get out of here. Why don't you tell me? Perhaps, I can help you."

"How?"

"I'm all bound up because I'm so powerful that without this awful, wretched prison, I'd be free to roam the Other World. I will help you leave, I can even give you some of my power, just to help you get on your way, if you tell me, how do you know the Saiyan named Goku?"

I looked over at him, and he didn't seem so bad.

"Come on girl, quickly, or I'll have to ask you to go on your way and leave me to my…" with some disgust, he says, "teddy bear concert."

"Well... I guess he's sort of a friend of the family; I mean, he mostly trains with my dad. I know they fought a lot in the past."

"Yes, I'm sure he did," Frieza responded, with growing impatience, "Most people have. Who is your father?"

"Vegeta, prince of the Saiyans," I said, puffing my chest out proudly. I miss him, so much. I miss my Dad so much.

Frieza's eyes look wild for a moment, and it seems that he's going to explode from his tight shell. But then, he calms down, and he looks upon me. "I see now! So your mother is that wretched Earth woman!"

I frowned.

"All due respect, of course."

Very Concern

The Kai pursed his lips, "We… can't help her, Vegeta."

Dad's eyes raised, "What! She's just a-"

The Kai raised his voice, "That girl has defied the gods, released the devil, and nearly ruined a whole generation of heroes!"

"But she's got to get away from him, now!"

"Not yet."

"Supreme Kai, with all due respect…" I began, "Bra, I mean, wouldn't it be easiest if we could all just put this behind us?"

"Frieza is dangerous. And if he kills her in the Other World…" Dad trailed off, looking over.

The Kai shook his head. "No, the time's not right yet."

"This isn't a game! This is my daughter!"

"Oh, like you've been so supportive of her, right, Vegeta?" I snapped, looking to him with a voice drenched in sarcasm that I couldn't control.

The next thing I sense is Vegeta's fist slamming squarely into my face. The Kai and my father watch on with what appears to be vague interest.

"I am so sick of you and your smug face!" He hisses, thrusting his left fist into my gut. He flies up to follow my body and it only barely registers that we've engaged in battle.

I quickly power up, but not before he manages to slam his fists over my skull. I'm barely able to collect myself. He powers up as well. I'm outmatched and he knows it.

The Kai waves his hand dismissively, "Let them get it out of their systems, it's such a bother."

Dad looks up with uncertainty.

"Come along, Goku, we'll have to keep an eye on important matters while the children quarrel over that very troublesome girl."

Dad's still watching us. I'm blocking a few hits, but he's gotten faster in his old age. Well, I guess that's what his special training got him. I got a degree; Vegeta got stronger.

He charges at me with a quick attack, landing nearly every blow this time with a fury that I haven't felt since I was a child.

He must have sensed that that was enough, because Dad floated up despite the orders of the Kai. "Come on, you guys, this isn't really-"

"Shut up, Kakarot!" Vegeta cries out.

"Goku! Come along! I'll have my attendant prepare lunch for us."

Dad looks at us and then looks back down at the Kai. With a gleeful look, he follows. I'm all alone with Vegeta, now.

Guess Bura's not the only one in immediate danger.

-GB