Sorry it’s been so long loves. Life hasn’t been lenient. For those wondering, my other three tales are not dead, but I have lost momentum because of life. When I have the time, energy and inspiration; I will try to get them up and going again. Thank you much to all who have reviewed, review and kept interest; most appreciated.
Anyhow, I will not include anything from Dragon Ball Chou in this or any of my tales, so please do not complain or infer about it. Though Dragon Ball Chou has proved entertaining in certain elements; this young chap prefers old-school Dragon Ball/Z and some portions of DBGT. The Z Senshi were already gods in their own right way before anyone began going “Super” with the martial prowess, powers and abilities they had, they just weren’t immortal, so I find Super Saiyajin God and like or successive forms tacky and exhaustive. Turning blonde to go Super Saiyajin was gaudy enough; an aura of light around them would have sufficed. Just acknowledging that they grow stronger the more they train ought to be enough. Though, I do like the Super Saiyajin 4 transformation as I think the balance between man and beast/heaven and earth within them makes for the ultimate form and symbol of balance; something key in life and martial arts. I really do not like how their tails were written out. The original Dragon Ball manga is very loosely based on the Chinese classic Journey to the West; where Sun Wukong (Son Goku) is the Monkey King. The tail was the one part that never left entirely when he went through his various transformations, his tell, if you will; the beast part of Saiyajin ought not to have been written out, as they are the extraordinary monkey(s) in the story. It takes away to not include it. Anyhow, I would change the Super Saiyajin 4 fur to jet black like their hair. For, if you look throughout nature, the strongest flora and fauna are usually those that are the darkest or most saturated in pigment; the few exceptions being those with certain mutations/adaptions in order to survive within a specific environment, though even those require some level of pigmentation for a healthy life. And those red-rimmed eyes have got to go too. I certainly can’t speak for everyone, but those red-rimmed eyes made them look like they were on heavy, unhealthy drugs, which is not how I want to picture my heroes. I like the green and gold irises though; those can stay. Those made for that otherworldly look, as not many people actually have gold or green eyes; many have brown, blue, grey and variations of hazel eyes but not many have purely green or golden ones. And instead of calling it Super Saiyajin 4, when the time comes to bring one up, I think Ultimate Super Saiyajin would suffice. For, although they could still grow stronger; further visual transformation would not at all be necessary from that point, as balance is key.
Also, I have never done a song-fic before and wanted to attempt one. After hearing it for the first time, for whatever reason, I couldn’t get this bloody song out of my head. So I went with it. And while the actual song (“Permission”: by artist Ro James; co-composed and produced by others) is mostly for this first chapter; the fic’s title derived from a verse of it has multiple connotations thought of way beyond the song, concerning this fic’s main characters. Thus it fit well.
Hope this first chapter of hopefully many is enjoyed!
That Green Light
“Gee son, what’s wrong? I thought you liked Bulma’s get-togethers,” enquired a worried-enough-to-put-his-plate-down Goku.
I have been kidding myself about who I really am; though I was truly confused there for a while and was in heavy denial once I had finally realized some things. Videl finally broke up with and kicked me out because I screamed his name out again during sex; probably every time we’ve done it, so I need a new decent place to live without asking for hand-outs and am definitely not moving back home. Not to mention I’m pent-up as fuck because I always had to hold back with her and masturbation is joke for someone of my power. I’m in love with someone I am too cowardly to express my true feelings to, I got fired from my first real job concerning my actual occupation for coming to work late for the umpteenth time, my mother is disappointed as shit in me and my balls are blue as fuck! Other than needing a few stiff drinks, that about covers it. My only solace is Videl and I weren’t married and had no children. Whew! Dodged a bullet with that one. “I’ve been better but I’ll survive Tousan. Don’t worry about it. Have fun. I know you have your eye on that wing platter. Better get to it before Vegeta, Oolong or the chibis do.”
Goku looked very seriously at his eldest son a moment before sighing audibly and answering. “Alright son. Just know that I’m here for you if you ever need me.” Goku’s hand lightly squeezed and then patted Gohan’s shoulder then before he stood up and proceeded to one of the many tables lined with food.
Gohan continued to silently brood to himself under a tree; vaguely wishing he was under Piccolo’s majestic form instead. How he would-
“Gohan? Are you alright?” He could clearly see that Gohan had lost weight and was tired, perhaps even weary. The slightly emaciated frame and dark circled eyes did not belong on his pupil. What on Earth had brought him to such a state? “What’s wrong Gohan?” Piccolo asked more forcefully, not at all condoning Gohan’s uncharacteristically apathetic demeanour.
Gohan’s eyes continued to gaze outward at nothing in particular. “I’ll be fine… I just need time,” he finally uttered; the finality in his voice terminating much of what Piccolo had wanted to say.
“Alright. Just call if you need me Gohan. You know my ears can catch most sounds… I hope you know by now there is not much I wouldn’t do for you… Whatever is bothering you, you are more than strong enough to overcome it. I have no doubt of it,” Piccolo’s strong voice spoke sincerely, causing Gohan to look up at him with the strangest expression, one he’d certainly never seen on him before.
“Thanks Piccolo-san. I will keep that in mind,” answered Gohan, finally getting up to get himself something to eat.
Piccolo watched him for a moment before beginning to levitate under the same tree he had been, closing his eyes and folding his arms in his signature pose. Though calm on the surface, a tempest was brewing inside. He yearned to help his cherished pupil but was at a loss as how to. After all, how could he help if he did not have the faintest idea what the matter was? And just how could he find out if every attempt to resulted in his pupil and best friend becoming even more distant if possible? What he wouldn’t do…
Moments later, his immaculate ears picked up the sound of rustling nearby. When he opened his eyes, a tall bottle of sparkling spring water was being shoved near his face. He was about to decline as he wasn’t thirsty just then; until he witnessed the desperately imploring look in the eyes of dearest deshi. At that, he quickly grasped the cool bottle, thanked Gohan and floated down until he was seated on the ground near him. Though, he was a bit relieved when he saw Gohan begin devouring his towering dishes of food like a healthy Saiyajin ought to. However, that relief faded at his pupil’s next spoken words.
After finishing his meal and wiping his face on a napkin, Gohan began, fidgeting. “Piccolo-san… have you ever been in love?”
Piccolo’s eyes opened to comically wide proportions then; him truly speechless, blinking helplessly a moment before arbitrarily coughing. He had to take a few breaths to compose himself; ever aware that Gohan’s eyes had never left him. “No, I have never been in love. Nameks do not require such for reproduction or companionship… Though, that is a strange question to ask me Gohan. Is something wrong with you and Videl?”
“I do not wish to speak of her. Though, our relationship is over, if you must know,” grumbled Gohan grumpily.
“Why?” pried Piccolo, actually curiosity piqued. The two were good together and seemed inseparable. What had happened to change that? Both Earthlings and Saiyajin were truly such strange creatures to him.
“Because, I am in love with someone else, someone not her, which has been unfair to the both of us.”
“Gohan, if you are looking for romance advice, I am probably the worst person to go to. Sadly even Yamucha could probably give you better assistance—even if not the best—because he does have some experience in it. That is one area I have none in… No one has wanted me in such a way, or I anyone, so it’s never come up. And I am certainly glad I don’t have those ridiculous urges Chikyuujin and Saiyajin seem to have. They make you act utterly foolish and irresponsible at times, something I am grateful I don’t have to worry about,” he finished matter-of-factly, not noticing that Gohan’s face had deflated even more if possible.
“I see,” uttered Gohan softly; the tightness in his chest exacerbating to agonising levels, his eyes shimmering and looking away as he fought to remain calm. “Thanks anyway, Piccolo,” he barely managed, swiftly standing with all his empty trays, trudging away from Piccolo as quickly as possible. Deep down he had known better than to even dream…
Piccolo scented Gohan’s tears too late; the young man already away from him and suppressing his Ki so it would be difficult to find him.
What did I say wrong? What…? Oh Gohan, how can I help you? What is it you want from me my friend?
After the party went on for hours more, the youths were sent to bed and the adults began to have some fun of their own. Bulma began passing out drinks and shouting the beginning of a dance off. Vegeta grumbled, gnashing his teeth as she dragged him to the grand dance floor; though underneath he was enthused. Chichi smacked the morsel of food out of Goku’s hand and began pushing him out there too. Soon almost all Z members were out on the dance floor; either with their mate or just having fun in the mix, glad to be part of the party like Umigame. It was nice to get off the island sometimes; being stuck with that lecherous Muten Roshi could be exhausting at times.
But Gohan was attempting to drown his sorrows away at a table alone; downing the fifth bottle of hard liquor he’d found in Bulma’s kitchen cabinets like a light beer. It wasn’t helping liked he’d hoped and it burned something fierce going down. But eventually he started to feel a bit looser; a pleasant warmth thrumming him before he finished it and stood awkwardly. False courage it certainly was. For, he was about to do something he would have never in a trillion years have done, desperation calling…
Piccolo grimaced when he caught sight of Gohan’s tear streaked face. But the strange look that came upon it when their eyes finally met sent uncanny chills up Piccolo’s spine. Moments later, he watched in silent fascination as Gohan stepped upon the stage above the dance floor and grabbed the mike.
When he easily became imbued with the power and bulk of Super Saiyajin 2 without much actual visible transformation, as he had been able to since Rou Dai Kaioshin had unlocked more of his hidden potential—stealing everyone’s attention—but with the change in vocal cord thickness he had been hoping for. He was going to sing for the one he yearned to be his lover, his true mate. While this song was far from the sweetest, at least Piccolo should get some of the point… Even if he didn’t feel the same… he needed him to know.
Clearing his throat and rubbing his neck, Gohan pushed a few buttons on Bulma’s Karaoke machine, took a deep breath, closed his eyes and when the music began, started to blow. Due to immaculate muscle and breath control and his Saiyajin transformation, his voice was a smoother tenor than the actual artist’s, causing jaws to drop all around. That and none of them had ever seen or heard him act such a way before; his body moving suggestively along with music and words he was singing, his eyes burning ardently upon one particular person, causing him to flush vividly, incredulous.
He sang the song verbatim with a few exceptions on some verses so it would better fit his intended: “…you can let your cape and turban down, but only if it feels right…”, “…Green light special, man you’re special…”, “…Give it to me like you won’t let a Saiyan forget it…”, “Give that green light, green light. Don’t you say no…” and such; his eyes ignoring the astounded looks from other Z members, clearly focused on one truly special soul as he sang his heart out.
When the song was finally through, everyone gazed upon a very violet blushing, downward looking Piccolo; unable to ignore the fidgeting of his fingers as his hands kept nervously grasping each other. Gohan wondered then if he had made a mistake; his heart leaping into his throat, the earlier imbibed alcohol proving not to be enough as his eyes screamed.
Piccolo wasn’t doing much better. And now that their earlier conversation made much more sense, he wasn’t sure just what to say, feel. In this rare moment, he was truly at a loss for words; making him feel more helpless than he could bear.
It was quiet enough to hear a pin drop when Gohan finally found the courage to jump off stage, beginning to slowly walk towards the still floor staring Piccolo. “Pic, I-I-”
“Would you please come with me Gohan?” uttered Piccolo softly, though face-palming when the unintended innuendo caught his psyche, blushing even more violet if possible. “Y-you know what I mean,” he finished gruffly, curtly taking to the sky without another word.
“Smooth, brat, very smooth,” quipped Vegeta, quite amused before busting up into a fit of raucous laughter.
“Onna, I don’t want to hear anything from you. I can easily smell how aroused you got. That poor excuse for a serenade wasn’t even for you!” growled the haughty prince.
“Oh chill Vegeta, you know there’s only one Saiyajin that has the privilege of being with me,” Bulma lulled sultrily, beginning to pull Vegeta along with her into Capsule Corp by his collar.
Goku’s eyes were wider than usual as he continued to peer at his son dumbfounded. “We’ll talk later, okay Tousan, Kaasan?”
“Sure son,” he eventually uttered, his jaw still hanging open.
“Goku-sa, close your mouth. That is so impolite. And Gohan, that was probably one of the most tactless things you’ve ever done, especially with that song. But, if you were following your heart, I can’t be angry with you. Just make sure to tell Piccolo he better eventually give me some grandchildren, alright dear?”
“Kaasan! You knew? All along?!”
“Of course dear, I am your mother. But you are the one who had to be courageous enough to pursue what you really desire in life. I cannot and will not do that for you,” she answered stalwartly, a glint of motherly encouragement in her eyes.
Tears welled up in Gohan’s eyes then; him affectionately hugging both his awesome parents, truly grateful to have them. “Thank you,” he whispered earnestly, hugging them tighter before pulling away.
“Now go get your man,” said Chichi, causing him to blush. “And lay off the liquor dear! My word you smell like a cheap pub!” she finished, waving her hands, watching him go before dragging her oblivious husband inside to the rooms Bulma had afforded them for the weekend, better than most upscale hotels.
Gohan took off then; his face blushing a fierce garnet, but hope in his heart propelling him to his intended, the cool night air a nice reprieve from all the suffocating heat he’d been feeling for a while there.
“How come you never serenade me,” Juuhachigou demanded Kuririn, her ice blue eyes striking his earthly deep brown ones.
“The night is still young,” he answered suavely, picking up the mike and wiggling his eyebrows, causing her to lightly smile.
It surely was.
It was quiet for the longest while as Piccolo and Gohan sat in a lone cavern together; nicely, obviously furnished by Piccolo.
“This… is nice,” uttered Gohan, striving to calm all the tempests inside him so they could really talk.
“There are moments even I need time away… Dende and Mister Popo have a strange relationship that I would prefer not to fathom…” At Gohan’s widened eyes, Piccolo clarified, “Get your head out of the gutter. They just annoy the hell out of me sometimes. Dende is still young and Popo seems to have this obsessive need to take care of someone… It’s just not my style; they are both too soft.” To that Gohan smiled and moved a little closer to him on the incredibly comfortable purple sofa.
“Am I too ‘soft’ for you, Piccolo-san?” whispered Gohan in a way that made Piccolo shiver involuntarily.
“What exactly do you want from me Gohan?” Piccolo demanded firmly. Gohan peered at him like he was crazy. “Look, while not experienced in it personally, I am knowledgeable about sex at least. Is that all you’re wanting from me?” He immediately regretted those words at Gohan’s pained face; biting his lip as Gohan shook his head.
Piccolo was fully intent as Gohan began to speak from his heart. “I love you Piccolo-san, so immensely it hurts sometimes. I want to be with you for the rest of our lives. I want to make love with you until you beg me to stop in tears of pure blissful passion. I want to marry you, have children with you if we can, and my Gods do I want to wake up every morning to your immaculate smiling face; just to be with you. I love you Piccolo!”
There was no way for Piccolo to adequately express what he was feeling then without blowing up the planet; so he settled to go beyond words and contemplations of vain explosions, pulling Gohan to him and sealing his lips with his own as he had witnessed others do many a time, hoping he was doing it right. The sparking warmth was instant, causing them both to gasp/moan before each eased away for breath; their eyes taking the other in studiously.
“Is it alright if we don’t do that tonight?” asked Piccolo, oddly submissive.
“We have a lifetime, right?” asked Gohan just as softly, the question much larger, profounder than it sounded on the surface.
“Yes, we have a lifetime, my Gohan,” answered Piccolo earnestly, truly smiling for once. Gohan could not help but smile in return, embracing his new life-mate warmly; feeling the happiest he had felt in his life.
To Be Continued…