Gohan skillfully manoeuvred his belt around his waist with a single hand.

In the immediate weeks following the loss of his left arm, it seemed as though he would never fully recover. Struggling through menial tasks like struggling to dress himself proved frustrating enough, but the self-deprecation only worsened the harder his mother tried to help him. The biggest issues quickly became apparent as Piccolo convinced him to keep training in an effort to adapt to his new body. The alterations to his fighting style helped to accommodate not only the pre-teen's sudden growth spurts, but to also combat his lackluster balance and the complete loss of primary defence on his left side.

However, seven years later, he had to admit he was fairly content with how his life had turned out.

"Mom," he said, exasperated. "I can do it myself!" He clasped his belt buckle shut as his mother hovered nearby, one hand outstretched in eagerness to assist her disabled son. A withering look from Chi-Chi immediately silenced him. "Son Gohan, I don't care how big you are, or how powerful you become." She leaned up to kiss his forehead. "You will always be my baby boy!"

While he appreciated the sentiment, along with all of the sacrifices she'd made for him and his brother over the years, he couldn't help but feel annoyed by her overprotective behaviour. "I know Mom, but seriously, I can put my own pants on," he told her.

Ignoring his long-standing pleas against pity, the woman gathered the stack of books on his desk into his bookbag. "Listen, I know a diploma will look much better on your college applications than the homeschool examination test score," she started. "But if you end up changing your mind-"

"Mom-"

"Hush!" She scolded. "If you change your mind, I don't mind homeschooling you again, alright? Promise me you'll let me know if things get too hard."

He nodded, knowing that letting him out of sight was a big adjustment for his mother to make. "I promise."

Seemingly satisfied, she let him take the yellow messenger bag from her. He slung it around his thick torso, following closely behind his mother as she led him to the front door.

"I hope you have a good day, honey. And don't forget to pick up Goten from Capsule Corp later," she told him. "I love you, Gohan."

"I love you too, Mom," he said, the sincerity washing away any lingering traces of aggravation. He ran out of their small capsule home and launched himself into the air, the cool breeze instantly calming his nerves.

Ever since the Cell Games had ended with Goku's death, Gohan's injury, and an unplanned pregnancy, Chi-Chi had taken a new outlook on life. She seemed to value happiness more than ever, going far out of her comfort zone to give her children fulfilling lives. She no longer pushed Gohan to be a scholar, and she certainly didn't push Goten to be one, either. Instead, she trained her youngest child in martial arts, and she encouraged her eldest to take breaks and to have as much downtime as he could.

Yet despite Chi-Chi letting her hair down, both figuratively and literally, Gohan couldn't help but feel more trapped than ever.

When the damage to his arm couldn't be wished away with the Dragon Balls, Dende had concluded that any havoc Cell had wreaked on this dimension couldn't be undone to the bioandroid's impermanence in this timeline.

Cell wasn't of their world. He was of a different future's world, and therefore could not be changed by their new Shenron (and by extension of their connection, could not be healed by Dende). The other Z-Fighters had argued for Gohan to find New Namek and to see if Porunga could fix his wound; however, Gohan had adamantly refused.

Before Cell's death, Cell had spat up everyone he had originally consumed. The beam that had been sent through Future Trunks' chest had been immediately repaired thanks to Krillin's quick thinking with the senzu beans. Goku had specifically asked to remain dead. With peace and balance restored to Earth once more, Gohan felt it would be wrong to abuse another world's dragon balls for his own selfish purpose.

Vegeta had survived. Gohan had no regrets about saving the man's life, even if the beam meant for Vegeta had instead blown the child's own arm off. And thus, when a senzu bean had merely cauterized the wound instead of regrowing the entire limb, Gohan had been forced to move on.

His empty sleeve fluttered through the wind as he neared his destination, the boy lost in thought. Satan City came into view, and Gohan touched down in an empty park as to not arouse suspicion from any passersby. It had taken a lot to convince his mom to enroll him in Orange Star High School. He knew he was loved, but he also knew that she coddled him far beyond what was necessary.

He needed a taste of freedom- normal, human teenager freedom- and this was the master plan Krillin had helped him concoct.

The half-Saiyan approached the large school campus, situated almost directly in the centre of the metropolis. He quickly took in his appearance with help from a hover car's reflective window, double-checking the badge pinned to the front of his shirt.

With a deep breath and an anxious smile, Gohan strode through the main entrance..

"So, what happened to your arm?" she immediately asked, eyes narrowed.

Gohan's mouth went dry. All he had said was hello, but this girl apparently wasn't one for pleasantries.

"Videl!" A blonde girl gasped, horrified. Her voice soon dropped to a whisper, as if not wanting to further embarrass the new student by scolding her friend within earshot. However, she didn't know just how good a half-Saiyan's hearing could be. "You can't just ask people why they're missing limbs! Show a little compassion for once, would you?"

Thinking it best to brush off the first girl's rude comment, Gohan gave an awkward laugh. "Ah, well, my name is Gohan," he said. "What are your names?"

"I'm Erasa," the blonde immediately replied, a smile gracing her features once more. "You've already met Videl. Sorry, she's just a little… blunt."

Once Videl's eyes had moved from the discreet stump of Gohan's upper arm, her piercing blue eyes never left his face. He had known her for half a minute, and yet he already felt extremely uncomfortable in her presence.

"And this is our friend Sharpener," Erasa finished, pointing to a blonde man on the other side of Videl. He appeared to be ignoring them all in favour of his cell phone, as he hadn't once glanced in Gohan's direction.

"What a start," the new student thought grimly. "But at least the day can't get any worse."

"Anyway," Erasa continued, "Can you guess who Videl's dad is?"

"Huh?" Gohan said, shaken from his thoughts. Upon closer inspection, Videl certainly didn't look familiar. "Who's her dad?"

"Mr. Satan himself," Sharpener finally spoke, tilting his chin toward Gohan. The boy's amber eyes roamed over the new kid for a second, only to resume his disinterested attitude once more at Gohan's casual reaction.

"Oh," Gohan mumbled, nonchalant. At Videl and Erasa's quizzical looks, he cleared his throat and said a little louder, "Well, that's pretty cool, I guess!" He gave a nervous chuckle.

"Let me guess," Videl drawled. "Another fan?"

"Well," he said, choosing his words carefully, "I'm a fan of martial arts."

"Oh, maybe Videl could show you a few moves after school! Like for self-defence. How about it, Videl?" Erasa asked, turning to her best friend.

At the same time, both Videl and Gohan said, "No!"

Surprised, Videl and Gohan made eye contact once more. "What, don't have any faith in my abilities, new kid?" She snarled. "Is it because I'm small, or is it because I'm a girl?"

"Neither, actually," Gohan said quickly, scratching the back of his neck out of habit. "It's just that I'm not… I'm not looking for a martial artist to learn from. That's all." Though deceiving potential friends wasn't ideal, he quietly reminded himself that this wasn't a total lie. He didn't need to look for a master when he already had Piccolo, who helped him train every other day.

Satisfied with that answer, Erasa simply turned to the front of the class as their next teacher arrived. Videl shifted her gaze to the blackboard as well, but her thoughts never strayed from the strange boy a seat away.

After all, what self-respecting martial arts fan doesn't perk up at the sound of Hercule Satan's name?

He was the last one out of the locker room. While the coach excused his tardiness without hesitation, with none-too-subtle glances at his left side, Gohan actually had more trouble because of his chosen location. Instead of undressing in the locker room's main changing area, he had chosen to replace his clothes in a cramped bathroom stall. The idea was to keep the other boys from openly gawking at his arm, but he would have to rethink that plan since he didn't want to be late to gym class every day.

"Alright, Videl and Sharpener, the usual. This is our last day of baseball, so make it count, kids," their coach yelled.

Unsurprisingly, Gohan was the last to be picked. "Just make sure you're at the back of the line to bat, alright?" Videl grumbled. Sharpener passed her with a snicker, and she shot him a glare. Turning back to her half-Saiyan teammate, she elaborated on the strange companionship. "Sharpener and I always have a bet going," she explained. "When we do team sports in gym, the losing team captain buys the winning captain some lunch."

"Ah, okay," Gohan said, hoping he wouldn't have to show off his powers regardless. That would without a doubt give his mother a reason to pull him out of school.

Nearly an hour later, Videl crushed her baseball cap in one hand and threw it to the ground from her position on second base. Sharpener had quickly struck out two of her team's best players. And now the coach, in an attempt at inclusivity, had asked Gohan to bat next. This was the last inning of the class period, and the team needed every advantage they could get in order to break the tie.

"Not like that's gonna happen," Videl growled to herself, digging one heel further into the dirt next to her base. It's not like she could make it to home plate now, anyway.

Gohan tested his grip with the bat in one hand. He took a tentative swing once to test its weight in his hand before stepping up to home plate, ignoring the smug looks the other team was already sending his way.

"Just do your best, okay, Son?" The coach called to him. With a nod in reply, Gohan turned his attention to the pitcher's mound. Sharpener sported a cocky grin as he wound up his arm and sent a fastball headed directly for Gohan's crotch. Irritated, Gohan dropped the bat and caught the 90 mph ball with ease, prompting surprise from everyone on the field.

"Try aiming a little higher next time, please?" Gohan politely called before throwing the ball back. Sharpener stumbled as the ball hit his glove, his wide palm stinging from the impact. The blonde jock hissed in pain, but gritted his teeth to mask further signs of discomfort. He could already feel a bruise forming, and he felt foolish that a nerdy cripple could hurt him so easily.

"You want higher?" He muttered. "I'll give you higher…"

Another throw sent the ball soaring toward Gohan's face, who decided to flick it away with a lazy wrist movement. A loud crack resounded as the ball made contact with the wooden bat, and the one-armed teen bounded around the baseball diamond in long strides. Sharpener's team scrambled to catch the ball, with everyone completely caught off guard by the hit. As Videl made it to home plate, the ball disappeared over the field's chain link fence. Groans of displeasure resounded through the ranks, and Videl found herself staring at the tall teen now running toward her. His foot touched home plate, and he promptly slowed to walk around her. She turned, noticing as he passed that he hadn't even broken a sweat.

Despite the unsettling feeling taking shape in her gut, Videl forced herself to let it go for the sake of their victory- for now, at least. Her instincts told her to chase after the boy and ask him about the seemingly impossible display of athleticism, but she instead decided that a more passive approach would do for now. She would simply observe the stranger from afar in secret.

With a slow exhale, the girl made her way toward a livid Sharpener.