Paradise, a DBZ fic.
PARADISE.
n.
1. place of complete bliss, delight and peace;
2. a heavenly place--peaceful and beautiful--where those who are favored by the gods can go when they die;
3. state of happiness.
Sometimes the wind would blow, and you could smell the change of seasons in the air. The cool breeze danced so lightly across the earth, the world in full bloom all about. And sometimes...
Sometimes on magical days when the world was so green you almost couldn't stand it, it would rain. Big heavy drops splattering against dirt and bouncing back up again. Light, little tiny drips moving with ever-increasing speed. It would rain.
It would rain and make soft pattering noises against the earth's flesh, so raw and tender. Mucky puddles of a grayish-brown would form under the large canopy of trees. And when it rained, everything washed away down gentle streams, through churning rivers, to a great ocean that never ended.
It would rain.
Today was just one of those days that you had to remember. There was something about it that even unseen, you knew was important. Especially to a young child with too few years to understand that the world was larger than his mother and his father and his home.
It was in the way people talked. The way they moved, scuttling around him with more important things on their minds.
Twice this morning already he had called out to his mother to see what he had made with the worn set of crayons he loved so much and she passed him by.
His father only spared him a glance when the young one tugged lightly on his leg, a product of vibrant lines and unintelligible scribbles clenched in his chubby hand.
After a moment of being ignored, he spoke, "Papa?" His small voice was unsure, as if he could sense what was going on, but in no way understand it. His soft locks covered part of his face and he tilted his head to get a better view of his father. The prized paper that just moments before meant the world to him rested forgotten at his side.
Even for one with so little experience in life, he knew something was bothering his father.
The man made a low grunt in reply, and quietly walked away.
The young one watched him go silently and decided to seek out his favorite playmate. With all the agility of his age, he moved through his massive home with a sense of destination.
As easily distracted as young ones are, a quiet sobbing interrupted his journey. It came from a partially open door that had bright lights on the ceiling and a slowly spinning fan. There was something eerie about the calm that seemed to encompass the room, as if only whispering was allowed by some unspoken rule.
The woman crying by the side of a large bed lifted her head as he came in and the young one recognized her as some one's mother.
Her eyes were weary and red, and her cheeks wet from trails of tears. Her hair was mussed slightly but she didn't seem to notice. Her clothes didn't really match, and in her haste to dress she had mismatched her shoes.
They stared at each other for a moment and by his current height and position, he couldn't see what was giving her such stress. She sniffled quietly and turned back to the bed. Curious, he went to it's edge and tried to peer over the side.
Managing to lift himself high enough after a short while, he saw a large man dressed in orange taking up much of the bed. The man had a pale tint to his face, and his lips were already turning an interesting shade of blue. The young boy recognized the figure before him as his friend's father, who was really more of a child than an adult.
Moments passed slowly by and he could hear the fan barely moving in a race after itself that it was too tired to finish.
Then she started crying again.
Go west
paradise is there
you'll have all that you can eat
of milk and honey over there
you'll be the brightest star
the world has ever seen
sun-baked slender heroine
of film and magazine
It was raining.
Mother said rain was good. But still it had spoiled his fun and made him unpleasant. Mother said he shouldn't be unpleasant and enjoy the rain.
His father wasn't enjoying the rain.
In fact, his father was standing before the window staring out into the darkness. He had been doing that a lot lately. Just standing and staring. Like he was thinking about something too important to be left alone for very long.
The boy wondered if his father was thinking about Gohan's dead father. Goku's death had been important to Vegeta for some reason, though the boy himself barely remembered it.
He went to his father and glanced up at him from his small frame, then joined him in glaring out the wide window at something neither of them could see.
It was getting darker outside and they could see shadows of the sunset through the glass frame. Small black clouds and blue highlights painted themselves permanately on the heavens.
He could just see over the window frame, his height not promising to be much from the viewpoint of his father's. Something was moving outside in the darkness. Low clouds were gathered close together at the edge of the woods lining their home and something was slipping through the shadows.
His father pushed him a few steps behind just when he made out the silhoutte of a figure. The proud man walked quickly out the door and the figure vanished.
Trunks wasn't allowed to go outside alone anymore.
go west
paradise is there
you'll have all that you can eat
of milk and honey over there
you'll be the brightest light
the world has ever seen
the dizzy height of a jet-set life
you could never dream
His father was going to train him.
Vegeta came in the middle of the night when the sun was still to weary to rise and woke his son. He spoke in a hushed tone as if it was a secret that shouldn't be talked about. Vegeta was going to train him, if he wouldn't tell Bulma.
Then he left, the boy's door slightly ajar where he could watch his father leave. The morning started pulling shadows off the floors and walls. Demons and dragons melted down from terrors of the night to boxes and games.
Vegeta had said it was time he had learned to take care of himself.
The sky was a lighter shade of gray and covered in clouds. But it wasn't going to rain today even though the smooth ceiling stretched as far as the eye allowed.
It had been like this nearly all month and then some. It hadn't rained in a while. He almost missed it.
your pale blue eyes
strawberry hair
lips so sweet
skin so fair
your future bright
beyond compare
it's rags to riches
over there
Bulma had been quite adamant to their leaving.
They were only going shopping for groceries, something Bulma herself had asked them to do not a few hours before.
The sun had come out just a short while ago and the sky was bright blue as far as the eye could see. There were no clouds blocking the sunlight today.
Vegeta led the way, the shadow from his stout frame completely encompassing that of his son next to him.
The small boy walked with his eyes closed, silent practicing ki control as he avoided touching the people moving hurriedly past them in a game all of his own.
The colored shoppers wore dusty clothes of dim blue and gray. The boy's own outfit was modest for his family's wealth. Few times had their fabrics brushed.
Vegeta smiled at his son, a small, simple thing. The affection did not reach his eyes.
Someone bumped into the pair and all involved halted. Two, not much past children, blocked their path. Twins with the same thin eyes of winter.
Vegeta never again went home.
San Andreas Fault
moved it's fingers
through the ground
earth divided
plates collided
such an awful sound
San Andreas Fault
moved its fingers
through the ground
terra cotta shattered
and walls came
tumbling down
The sky was red. A glorious, luxurious red of dried and new blood. Black clouds hemmed scars into the red-red sky. Half collapsed gray structures pooled dust over the bare ground and brown dirt far too dark to be natural surrounded the cities.
But behind all the mud and muck and blood and dirt and dust and death and horrid horrid stench, the sun still shone hidden within it's fortress of clouds.
They were shopping for the necessities.
Clothes.
Food.
Shoes.
Anything else could wait. Anything else always waited.
They walked together, Bulma on the left near the carts and sellers. Gohan on the right near more open spaces and the edge of the crowds. And Trunks in the middle, each of his hands clasped tightly in another's palm.
They were stretching him. She kept moving towards the vendors and he kept moving towards the street. Gohan didn't like crowds much. Trunks didn't have the heart to tell them they were hurting his arms. (He was barely ten.)
o promised land
o wicked ground
build a dream
tear it down o promised land
what a wicked ground
build a dream
watch it fall down