Fandom: Dragonball Z
Publish Date: 8/13/2002
Disclaimer: A, B, C, D, E, F, G, I do not own DBZ.
It is the strangest sensation imaginable, staring out through the eyes of another. Being imprisoned within your own body. I’ve spent almost my entire life like that.
Two entities within one form. Only one can dominate.
Surprisingly enough, it was not I who took over, but a personality that was the complete opposite of mine, the two ends of the spectrum, as different as black and white. That persona was the one that others knew and loved, the one that was put with the face.
I was buried in the back of his mind, just waiting for the chance to resurface.
That chance didn’t come until many many years after the accident that left me trapped in the back corner of that idiots mind. It was when Radditz landed on Earth. I recognized him immediately, but I was too weak to do anything, to even fight for some shred of recognition that I was still in there. The battle was waged, and ended with both myself and my alter ego being thrust from this world onto Snake Way. A year of training followed by another exilerating race down that million-mile road.
When I arrived at the battlefield and discovered what had happened, I didn’t really feel any regret, compassion, or sadness for those who had been killed. My other half, however, was quite angry. I watched in amusement as he thoroughly defeated Nappa.
But when Vegeta came onto the scene, it was an indescribable moment for me. The Prince! But as before, I could not call out to honor my lord. That stupid sap wouldn’t let me through. Another battle was waged, and I was forced to watch this one with a heavy heart as the Prince fell.
After a short bout of healing, I went to Namek, having already been informed of what was going on there. To make a long story very very short, I watched Prince Vegeta die. I watched my Prince beg me to avenge our people. I watched him cry. Then I watched him fall a second time, this time for good.
Something in me broke at that moment, and for the first time in my life, I felt compassion. It was that compassion that I shared with my other self that lead me to bury the man that would have been my leader had things been different. Then I watched the faceoff against Frieza, a silent observer in the back of someone’s mind.
When Krillen was killed, something snapped, not within me, but within my counterpart. But he was actually more afraid of his rage than anything else, and withdrew slightly. But it was just enough for me to break free of the prison of my own mind and temporarily take control. I was beyond all describable rage—I had spent years trapped within myself. That fury took the form of a Super Saiya-jin transformation.
After the defeat of Frieza, I was once again shoved into a forgotten corner of the fool’s mind. There I remained, through the training, the android attacks, and the heart virus. My own body betrayed me…no, us. It betrayed both myself and my other half with a weakness that we couldn’t afford.
By the time the Cell Games rolled around, though, my body had fully recovered, thanks to the medicine from that strange kid. The son of Prince Vegeta. How extraordinary.
When that thing they called Cell began to self-destruct, I was still within my mind. I saw immediately what my alter ego intended to do. For some reason, I actually agreed. It was the right thing to do. I don’t know what the years did to me, all that time imprisoned within the confines of my own mind, but I suddenly understood. I understood why that fool—no, Son Goku—needed to protect those people. And so I went to his death with him.
I don’t think he ever really knew I still existed, still in there. But my need to take control back was gone. I was actually content to sit in the background, a silent observer, silently pushing when it was needed.
Now, I watch from Otherworld through eyes that I do not control, looking down at the family that I would never have had if I hadn’t been the victim of a severe personality reversal. I see ChiChi, Goku’s mate—or what is it he calls her? His wife? I see his son, Gohan. A remarkable person, stronger then three Saiya-jins with half the blood of one. And I see Goten. The son that I have never been able to speak to, to hold, to see face to face. He is a miniature copy of me in so many ways, but he has Goku’s innocence. An innocence I possess, though it is not mine.
As I watch Goten, Goku’s son, my son, I am at peace. I have no regrets.