Fandom: Dragonball Z
Publish Date: 11/4/2002
Disclaimer: A, B, C, D, E, F, G, I do not own DBZ.
Two wide eyes stared up at me. A child’s eyes, a young boy, but without the innocence that someone that young should possess. Instead, there was a sadness that was far too adult. There hadn’t been a child behind those eyes for a very long time. And now, those eyes looked up in admiration. At me. Just like he always did.
I tried very hard to shake the feelings that those eyes summoned, but they refused to be silenced. There were so many memories locked away behind my own eyes, most of which I would have rather kept hidden there.
It had been that way when I was a child as well. There was never a dull moment, and there never really seemed to be peace. Every day was a new adventure, a new challenge, and a new fight. And people always remembered me when I was young. Always. After all, how many children are you going to find with tails? Not many, apparently.
I had seen far too much at a young age. Death was a frequent visitor in my life, both for my enemies and my friends. I’d seen death, and I’d caused it. No matter who the victim, though, a chill always ran through me whenever my old friend Death came a-knocking.
Fighting had been a part of my life since I was small. Always fighting to become stronger or learning some new technique. That was life, and I didn’t question it often.
There had been good times as well, though, and I treasure them. Meeting Bulma, Master Roshi, and Krillen was one of them. Then I’d met Yamcha, Tien, and all the others. The first meeting with Piccolo hadn’t been exactly friendly, to say the very least, and the same went for Vegeta, although now I consider them both friends.
It was amazing, the memories awakened simply by seeing the silent echos in eyes far younger and still far more innocent than mine, though the innocence does not necessarily show. The wide eyes of someone whose life was turning out much as my own had—in the neverending struggle between good and evil, right and wrong, life and death.
The voice stirred me from my revery, and I refocused on the big blue eyes staring up at me with a mixture of curiousity and adoration. "Gohan, you promised we would train today!"
"Oh...yeah, you’re right," I rubbed the back of my neck in a characteristic gesture that I had inherited from my father. "Sorry, kiddo. Let’s get going."
Trunks grinned—so much like his father’s trademark smirk—and ran out the door with a youthful enthusiasm I had long since forgone. We had to train. Who knew when the androids would strike again?
And slowly I followed, wondering if today another memory would be added to the already-extensive file locked away behind two pairs of eyes. One adult, and one child.