When Doves Cry

Title: When Doves Cry 2? – Sweet Ignorance

Authors Note: Well, it’s been quite a while since I’ve posted anything here at and I must say truthfully that I have not concentrated on writing for myself in many a month. But the other day I was listening to the recording of a tarot reading I had done and somehow it brought me back, made me remember what made me happy. And so here is another chapter, I had fun writing it… I hope someone enjoys it as much as I did.

QUOTE: “What we call evil is simply ignorance bumping its head in the dark” - in 'Observer', 16 Mar 1930 – Henry Ford


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“Okay lover-boy, its fight time”

At this Wolfe slipped past his long time friend, his coat floating behind him. The dark man was indeed one to draw attention from the surrounding crowd. His charisma easily drew the eyes of both genders, and being who he was he didn’t mind one bit. Each gender had their privileges and he knew how to twist situations to his own advantage.

Much evident in his relationship with Goten, the young grandchild of Satan City’s Crime Lord. Whether or not the happy-go-lucky Son knew so or not, the catalyst of their close friendship was the fact that Goten was a Son. The Son and prised fighter was the best thing that had happened to the gambling entrepreneur and he wasn’t just about to let that go.

“Gi’ me the mike!” Wolfe leant against the ropes surrounding the ring, watching as two scrawny males attempted to pummel one another. His right hand was held back over his shoulder to a fellow announcer hanging about the ring.

“You gonna end the fight?” A high pitched male voice asked, boredom was all that could be heard in it. When Wolfe felt the cool plastic of the cheap microphone, he wrapped his fingers about it in a wave, replying to the younger announcer in one word,

“Hardly”

He left the confused boy standing in the edge of the gathering crowd, whose cheers rose radically at the sight of the coated man ducking through the ropes and interrupting the slow fight.

“Wow, My dear Dudes and Dudettes! Wasn’t that a blood churning fight,” Wolfe couldn’t help but roll his eyes at his own false words. He knew that the two fighting men could put even Raditz to sleep. The fighters began to protest at the interruption, but Wolfe simply shot his free hand straight up into the air, spinning around to gage the entire audience,

“What d’you say we raise the stakes?” At this he caught Goten’s eye, and motioned with his head for him to come into the ring. Goten, who now had white bandages protecting his fists, was bare chested, revealing the teen’s rippling form. The result of many years with his entrepreneur companion, Goten had formed quite well. His heavy muscles having adapted to the rough illegal fights he was now about to participate in. It was not swiftness or agility you needed here, but brute force and a heavy punch.

“It’s a three-way, Ladies and Gentlemen...” Wolfe revved up the crowd, “…Place your bets now, cause this one ain’t gonna last long!”

Goten soon joined him in the ring, a trademark grin plastered onto his face. He cracked his neck and shook out his arms, his face may have been smiling yet his eyes shot death towards the interrupted fighters.

‘Simply a warm up’, he thought

One of the men, in golden shorts, crossed his arms over his chest defiantly, his head covered in spiked primary red hair. Whilst the other, wearing red tracksuit pants, swallowed visibly and wiped at his face, unknowingly smearing crimson across his cheek.

A thick fur coat broke the Son’s eye contact with the amateur fighters. The announcer waltzed across the ring, between the three males, and ducked once more through the ropes. Wolfe remained standing upon the outside of the raised platform as he turned to face the fighters.

“LET THE BATTLE BEGIN!”

Goten allowed the lusty cries to drift past his ears, ignored their shouts of bets and let his eyes wash over his opponents. Golden shorts wasted no time. He was across the ring in a single stride, a look of triumph across his face as he let his left fist fly.

‘Eager to lose is he?’

The Son could have ended it right there with a simply uppercut into the exposed chest, but he had always found that the better the show, the bigger the pay. He hopped to the right, as Golden’s fist passed his head, followed by red hair.

‘Bad move’

Goten grabbed tuffs of the bright hair and thrust the fighter against the ropes at his opposite side. The man was stunned and unable to catch his feet against the flimsy barrier, he slipped to the floor. His face scraping against the ropes as it fell, his legs tangled in on each other. The blood from Golden’s cut lips staining the wan floor.

“…OH! That’s gonna bite in the mornin’…” Goten barely registered Wolfe’s humoured proclamations, as he turned away from the fallen fighter to find the other blinking stupidly. The Son raised an eyebrow as the young fighter took a hesitant step towards him, his fists raised loosely before his chest. Goten threw the bald man a Cheshire style grin and slammed his right foot forward onto the floor. The bald fighter let out an audible squeak, Goten couldn’t help but laugh. His hand came up to rub the back of his head, in a movement that, unknown to him, echoed that of his father.

“Its ok, I’m not going to hit you that hard…” Goten was about to continue along with his ridicule when he caught sight of Paris glaring at him from behind the ropes. He cleared his throat and stepped across the ring. His opponent held up shaking hands and tried to find a tough face.

Goten avoided the fighter’s weak punches and threw a fist into the man’s stomach. Baldy doubled over into Goten’s chest. The son whispered,

“You don’t belong in the ring”

Then he shoved him back into the ropes, the bald fighter toppled back out of the ring. Goten didn’t watch long enough to see his fate but turned back to Golden shorts, who was now standing.

His remaining opponent wiped blood from the corner of his mouth. Goten stepped across the ring and squatted under a punch. He simultaneously grabbed the fighter, taking the man’s left leg up with him as he stood and bent back down to throw an ending punch.

Paris was the one to pull him from atop the fighter. His hands were throbbing from the repeated contact with Golden’s face. He dropped his head and caught his breath. Adrenalin stormed about his fists.

“Baby…come on, snap out of it…” Paris said

She came into focus before him, holding his bloodied wrists. She looked worried yet Goten knew how many times this had happened before. So many times. Paris should be used to it by now. Why was she worried?

Wolfe liked to call it his ‘Super Form’. Goten called it blacking out, losing control.

“Get these off me!” Goten said angrily about the bandages around his hands.

Paris carefully unwound the red spotted cloth, throwing it to the floor. He couldn’t hear her whispers above the joyful cheers of the crowd. So he plastered a grin on his face and pulled her up into a deep kiss. Whistles echoed through the crowd as Goten spun her around.

The fighter with the golden shorts was dragged from the ring coughing up blood. His figure disappeared into the rowdy crowd, left to fend for himself.

“Easy done!” Wolfe said, the commentator’s arm engulfing Goten’s shoulders. He lowered the mike from his face, “Ready for the next one?”

“Not tonight, Wolfe” Goten replied, “A dealer’s been holding out…” He leant in to whisper the last, “...besides, I need to tend to my better half tonight”

“Mmmm, Let me know if you need any help” Wolfe said winking.

Goten laughed and Paris studied Wolfe questioning. Before she could ask what the two had exchanged Goten pulled away. He ducked through the ropes and felt hands pat his legs to congratulate him. Paris was through the ropes before Goten could offer a hand. She jumped down into the crowd with a giggle and disappeared.

The Son stared after her and sighed. He would never understand the female species. What was going through her mind? A minute ago she had been fretting over him and now she was giggling and leaving his side. He had tried to understand her, to discover her every unusual habit but in truth he was happiest studying her. He hoped he never discovered all her strange habits.

“G’ten! Get off the ring” Wolfe said. He felt a hand shove him from behind. He fell forward into the crowd and was shoved back from the front.

Groaning he elbowed the closest body, giving himself room to breathe. Pushing through the crowd, Goten heard Wolfe’s voice speak over the pumping dance music. Still bare chested and with no Paris in sight he opted to find the dealer. If he dealt with the missing payment now he could spend the rest of the night with Paris. He had been unable to see her for longer then 15 minutes outside of school because of Turles’ constant interruptions. He was due to graduate from the last year of High school in over a month and his Uncle was determined to make him ready for the family business.

Paris was becoming unsettled. She knew who his family was, everyone did, and she had asked him several days before to follow his brother’s path. To move out from beneath Radtiz’s wings and leave the life of crime he was embracing. Goten was sure that their relationship would end that night. It was the first time they had truly fought. He was glad she came to him the next day for he wasn’t sure he could have done the same.

“P-please….I need it…I’ll get you the money…” a nearby voice pulled Goten from his thoughts. He had walked to the far side of the hall. A table sat in a dark corner, a seedy man seated in the shadows.

“You’re not getting any without the cash,” the dealer said, “So don’t try”

Goten walked over to the customer and pulled him gently from the chair. Supporting the man’s weight, he spoke to him,

“You need help not drugs. Go to your fam…”

“What d’you know! Le’ go!” The addict broke free and stumbled to the ground.

The Son took the man’s seat as he staggered away. The dealer cleared his throat and pulled his coat tighter around his chest. He looked over Goten with a shaky gaze, which shifted to the empty space behind the teen as if expecting others to be standing there. Goten waited for the man to speak first and simply crossed his arms.

“Goten…umm…How may I help you?” The dealer said.

Goten smiled and said, “You can always help me…” It took him a moment to remember the man’s name, “…Saime.”

“Anything. X, Hype…?” The dealer said, hope in his voice.

“You know I’m not into that,” Goten laughed, “I’ve heard some rumors, Saime. You’ve been selling more then we’re giving you. Where’d you get it?”

The dealer’s eyes widened, “I’d never…”

“You’ve been holding out on us, Saime. You’re betraying Raditz, My Uncle” Goten said, emphasizing the latter two words. The dealer shook his head frantically, muttering denials.

A drop of sweat trailed down the dealer’s forehead as Goten said, “Give me the extra you made and I might think of forgiving you. My sources say you made an extra ten thousand”

Goten raised an eyebrow at the dealer who said, “But it wasn’t that…Here,” He took a roll of bills from his coat, “I only have three and a half with…”

Goten slammed the table against the dealer with a fast hand. The money fell and rolled onto the ground. It hit the Son’s foot and as he bent to pick it up he slid a knife from his boot. Saime was gasping to get air into his lungs, trapped into the corner by the table. Goten pocketed the cash and stood up over the dealer.

“I’m sorry, Saime. Raditz wouldn’t like that answer” Goten grinned, genuine glee in his eyes, “Well, he hardly likes any answer so don’t feel bad”

He pulled the table away and the dealer leant forward. Goten stood between him and the table, holding the knife up close to his throat.

“You’ve been dealing for the Ox King haven’t you?” Goten said and put his left boot on the man’s groin, “You know there’s no Ox dealing in Son territory”

“But he’s your Grand…” the dealer said. Goten pushed the knife closer into the skin and caused blood to flow. Goten’s mood changed once more, anger. It was one thing to speak of the two families in Satan City, but mentioning any blood connection between the Sons and the Kings was not good for one’s health. Ever since Goten could remember there had been hostilities between the Sons and Kings. A steady peace had formed when his father, Goku married his Mother, Chi Chi Yet it must be said that Goten had never had normal relationships with his parents. The thought of his father alone caused him to cringe.

“What did you say?” Goten said. A picture of his large Grandfather, his only living Grandfather, flashed through his mind. A loveable Chef, always wearing a comical, horned helmet, the Ox King was one of the deadliest figures in Satan City. It has never been proven, but a new specialty dish will appeared on the menu of his restaurant, always the day after a reported disappearance. Anyone with any clue never orders the daily special.

“Goten!” A voice yelled from behind him. Goten took the knife away from Saime’s neck and looked around. Pushing his way out of the crowd was his older brother, Gohan. He walked straight over, leaving the crowd cheering the illegal fighting behind him. It was an understatement to say that Goten was surprised, he hadn’t spoken to his brother in at least a year.

“You!” Goten turned his body and pointed the knife towards his brother, “What the fuck are you doin’ ‘ere?”

Gohan stopped, ignored the knife and said, “We have to go to Grandfather, everyone’s there. Something has happened, haven’t you heard?” Gotenn glared at his brother’s face and saw red eyes and pale skin. He hesitated before lowering the knife. Turning back to Saime, Goten bent over and returned the knife to his boot.

“It seems you’ve lucked out, you get to stay intact for now” He told Saime, who was holding his neck, “But I’ll be back in three days. You better have the money”

Goten left the dealer alone in the corner, after many had seen the confrontation he doubted any customers would dare approach the man tonight. He looked around for any show of Paris and his shirt. But he found no sign and so had to talk with his troubled brother. Goten could see emotion in his eyes and there was only one other time which Gohan had shown this. It was the sadness he had shown when their father died. And besides, Gohan never came to these fights, they’re illegal. They’d tarnish his flawless record.

“What?” Goten swallowed and had to force himself to remain irritated, “Did your cat die?”

“I thought you’d know by now…” Gohan put a leading arm on Goten’s back, “Come. Mother asked about you, she’s worried about your grief. We must go to her”

The youngest Son could only look questionably at his brother and shrug his arm off, “My grief for what?” He asked but didn’t wait for an answer, “Go away!”

At that he walked away into the crowd and found Paris sitting with the squeaky voiced announcer by the ring. He took his coat without word from the table and slipped his shirt over his head. He was still thinking about his brother when he heard Paris,

“Where’ve you been?” She said.

“Around,” He forced a grin and sat down, “Around the world looking for a rose, but none could compare to you”

She couldn’t help but roll her eyes and say, “Well, I’ll have to go with…”

“Goten, I’m not kidding!” Gohan appeared behind him, he then whispered in Goten’s ear, “Its Roshi. You know I’d never come here if it wasn’t important. Please.”

Goten knew something was wrong and at the mention of Roshi’s name he began to play the worst scenarios through his mind. All other distractions left his mind. Defense mechanisms come in all shapes and sizes, Goten’s sarcasm and his humor protected him from grief. It kicked in automatically as he suspected the worst,

“Just trying to scare me straight, aren’t you? Very funny, Gohan” Goten twisted his head to see his elder brother, “Sit. Place a bet” Goten’s eyes were not humorous though, they were anxious. Paris and the announcer shifted their gaze inquisitively between the brothers and the announcer shrugged when Paris asked him what he thought was going on.

The angered voice of his girlfriend caused Goten to forget his brother momentarily and look in the direction her hand pointed. Two men obviously with more muscle then brains shoved their way through the chanting crowd, both he instantly recognized as a couple of Raditz’s thugs.

“You promised no Uncle tonight, Goten!” Paris whined.

The thugs caught Goten’s eye, one silently calling the Son over with a look of importance, which caused him to remember the drug dealer’s money in his pocket.

‘He wants an update does he’, Goten muttered to himself, ‘Wish he’d back off’

Once Goten was standing he caught hold of his older brother’s shoulders, shoving him down in the seat he vacated,

“I wager Jewel,” Goten waved up at a platinum blonde fighter who blew kisses at the crowd, “He seems a sissy but Wolfe had a thing with him” Goten winked at his blinking brother and strode to the waiting thugs who stood just out of hearing distance of the group he keep his back to.

“There’s no way I’m gonna deal with Saime tonight, guys,” Goten said before he stopped and dug the paper roll from his pocket, “Look…the guys hiding in a corner, get the ten thou from him. One way or the other”

“Mr. Raditz needs to see you immediately. We’ve come to escort you.” The taller thug ordered Goten, ignoring his words about Saime. The Son’s fears for Roshi emerged once more, the money twisted around his fingers as he fumbled. When he received a shrug for asking the reason for being called, he looked back to Gohan who was watching the three of them talk, ignoring the ongoing battle he had told him to bet on.

Pushing the rolled notes into the smallest thug’s hands, Goten told them to treat themselves after they’d gotten ten thousand from Saime.

“But Raditz…” The man started.

Goten waved him off, “Don’t worry ‘bout him. You’d better start worrying when you don’t get that money”

He threw one last glance back to Gohan, ignoring Paris’ death-like glare, he swore she acted more and more like his own mother everyday. Gohan was rising but before he could make a move for his brother Goten had faded into the crowd. Leaving the thugs fretting behind him, seconds later he, with heavy breath found the crowd’s edge and ran for the adjoining warehouse and his precious convertible.

“Heard ya fight,” the slick haired valet called from across the hall, “Congrats Sir!”

“Just open the door would you” Goten’s voice was hurried as his engine purred into life, and he looked back to find Gohan running towards him calling. Weaving his way gently through the temporary garage, his tires squealed through the doorway just as the rusting door was thrown up.


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Clouds covered his thoughts as he weaved through the brick lined suburb, the sound of his heart shook his entire body but he couldn’t steady it. The moment he turned into Roshi’s street his foot was on the brake, the tires screamed in protest as the car skidded to a stop. He watched as a crowd buzzed about Roshi’s home, news vans had started to pull up trying to make the best of the crowd and commotion. Goten took his keys, causing his headlights to die out, the yellow streetlights taking over once more.

“Can you tell us some details…What’s going on…how did it happen?” The insistent voices of the press tore at him as he pushed unforgiving through their ranks, and he was glad none of them recognized him…yet.

It was the yellow police tape that stopped his advance. He stared at it, a symbol of finality and without thinking he grabbed it, pulling it up to step beneath. Firm hands suddenly shoved him backwards into the crowd once more, the voice of the policeman dull to his ears and so he started forward, facing the tall man,

“Let me through!”

“I’m sorry, this is a crime scene. Are you relation, son?”

“I’m a Son. Move aside!”

“You’re his son? Videl needs to speak with you…”

“Roshi’s my Master. Where is he!”

But the policeman wouldn’t answer his question and held him back with the crowd, simply saying that the area’s a crime scene and none may cross. Without thinking Goten let fly his fist, adrenaline left over from the fight still bubbling through his veins, the officer’s nose cracked clearly and blood almost instantly tainting his skin. The man cried out profanities and stumbled back into the side of a patrol car. Moments later he was joined by a fellow officer who went for Goten, aiming to take hold of the teen’s arms and cuff his wrists. Goten simply growled, demanding to be told the truth and stepped back to avoid the officer’s grip.

“Goten?” Sharpener appeared as if out of thin air, Goten’s own mind too clouded with worry to notice the man’s concern, “Let him through”

Goten turned his full attention to the blonde SCIU agent, who was secretly on Raditz’ payroll, after giving the officer’s one last glare. The man started leading the Son towards Roshi’s front yard, stopping just out of view behind an ambulance.

“There’s been an accident,” Sharpener said his voice all caution, making Goten impatient, “A gift for Raditz”

Goten frowned as the detective grabbed his hand sharply, Sharpner’s gloved hand tight around the fighter’s bare palm. Muttering random words of comfort, Sharpner engulfed him with his free hand so as to disguise the exchange of metal. But Goten couldn’t help wondering if the comfort was more then show and instinctively shoved the man away, fearful of cameras targeting him. Cool metal graced his palm, Goten only glancing at the necklace as he slipped it into his coat.

“Where’s Roshi?” Goten asked one last time, determinedly marching to circle the ambulance, but before he could glance the front yard of Roshi’s generic wooden cottage a black van pulled up to block his path. He was about to shift back to detour the new arrival when his eyes caught sight of the bold lettering adorning its side. Coroner.


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The fuss brought Videl’s attention from the deep bullet holes in Roshi’s front door to look at the formed crowd on the street. Like a professional, her hands did not shake, her words did not falter and her mind was clear cut, pushing all her grief for the death of her husband’s mentor to the side. This is as it had been on every case she had investigated, she couldn’t let herself become distracted by her own emotions, and inevitably they would cloud her judgment. Maybe even accuse an innocent.

It was her ability to disentangle her own self from her cases, no matter how personal, that made her the most sort-after officer in Satan City. She perfected this ever night. A cold case she had opened several months before, so personal it hurt her heart each time her eyes touched the crime scene photos. Her husband, Gohan, had begged her not to torture herself, not to open the file, when she first brought it back to their small apartment. She ignored him each time and simply locked the study door, blocking out his worried eyes and her 12 year old daughter’s curiosity. He had stopped mentioning it, in fact he avoided the subject altogether, acted as if it didn’t exist and each night for hours she would pour over crumpled reports, stained photos searching for something. Anything. But nothing could solve that case. And so she’d sit and look at the photo of her mother’s face, disentangled her personal feelings and search.

But now she saw him. Her husband’s brother. A soul whose heart she knew balanced on a knife’s edge, his skin thin and protected only by those around him. Videl came to realise that Goten relied on Roshi and told his deep secrets to him. The old man was too aged to physically train the boy, but he had shaped her nephew’s mind, listened and never judged him. Perhaps that why Gohan hadn’t received a reply from his brother in over a year, no matter how hard her husband tried he always succeeded in pushing the boy away. Forever judging his actions. Her heart sank as she understood who Goten would learn on now and it wasn’t Gohan.

When Goten and her partner disappeared behind the ambulance holding the wounded girl, Videl moved. She muttered of her brief departure to the male scientist beside her and hurried across the lawn, intent on catching the pair before they came into view of the Roshi, or at least until the coroners could remove the body. She circled the ambulance in time to see Sharpner being shoved back from an embrace.

“Where’s Roshi?” Goten asked.

Videl caught his shoulders as he marched towards the house and he simply glared at her unseeing, as if he didn’t recognize her. The grave look in his eyes, the fire that sparked in their center stunned her and she couldn’t speak.

“Well!” Goten forced, his arms now limp at his sides, all his energy was focused in his face. Videl blinked and finally spoke to her nephew.

“Goten, dear. I was hoping that Gohan would have…” He jerked his shoulders free and took a step back, his eyes finally showing signs of recognition.

“Sister. Where is he?” She couldn’t help but notice the poison in his voice.

“SCIU are tending to him, now. We’ll take good care of him, Goten.” Her voice was matter-of-fact before it softened, “Why don’t you go to your mother? She’s waiting for you”

“So I heard” He whispered, and tried to move past her but she stopped him in a firm grip.

“You cannot go past. This is a crime scene, Goten. Do you need someone to drive you home?” Videl asked, watching him carefully.

“Home…” Goten repeated, no longer looking at her. He turned and at speed walked to the crowd before anyone could stop him. After a moment she lost site of him, not even the sound of his screeching tires reached her ears.

“Boss, get back here and take a look at this!” The young scientist called to her seemingly without respect, she knew otherwise. She shook her head, pulling her attention back to her job and reordering her mind she returned to the bullet holes without the look of sadness which held her heart.