When Videl first came to, the world before her was a bleary mess. She groaned, realising that she was waking up in an unfamiliar location.

"Oh sweetheart," cried Mr. Satan when he noticed her begin to stir. "You have to be more careful. I can't lose you too."

Videl sat up and pain erupted across her right thigh. "What happened?"

"You were shot," said Hercule.

Suddenly, it made sense that she was in a hospital.

"It doesn't really feel like it," said Videl as she thumbed over the offending region which had been tightly bound by a bandage. "I think it hurt more when I broke my arm."

"You got lucky," said Hercule with a frown. "And besides, you didn't fall unconscious in the middle of a dogfight when you broke your arm."

Videl said nothing in response. "So have I had any visitors?"

"Erasa will visit in the evening," said Hercule. "And the chief is outside waiting. He seems real cut-up about something."

"I'm surprised he came," muttered Videl. "Would've been in keeping with the past few days for me to just bleed to death here in my hospital bed in isolation."

"Don't be like that. I know things are rough now," said Hercule, reaching forward to nuzzle her hair, the teenager unable to protest, "but we always bounce back. We're Satans, remember."

"I don't think that means what it used to," said Videl. Even though she knew she would have the company of her best friend later in the day, she couldn't help but feel lonely and useless - broken and battered. "So how long 'till I bounce back?"

"It didn't hit anything serious, so a few weeks, possibly a month or two. It depends on how you recover," said Hercule. "I'm just glad you're okay."

"I've been through worse," said Videl, propping a pillow up against her bedhead and resting against it. "Send the chief in. I have a feeling this is going to go one of two ways."

Hercule nodded. "I'll be in the hallway. If you need me for even a second, I'll show him what a world champion can do - phoney or not," he said, as he left the room.

Videl rolled her eyes.

"Ah, I'm glad to see you're awake," said the chief as he entered.

"The look on your face says otherwise," said Videl. Her leg throbbed and she grit her teeth, reluctant to call for a nurse just yet.

"Been one hell of a day," replied the chief. "Four casualties, five injured and not a red cape in sight."

"I could have stopped things from escalating if you had just called me in," said Videl softly. The count was larger than she remembered seeing in the thick of the action.

"Like hell you could've!" snapped the chief, breathing deeply. "I'm sorry, okay. It's just that my officers had enough problems stomaching the recent drama and that stunt you pulled didn't exactly help that."

"What are you saying?" asked Videl, her eyes wide in disbelief.

"I'm saying that you better hobble over to Gelter's room as soon as you can stand and thank him for saving your ass. Also that I think it's best you take a bit of a break, so that everyone can focus on getting their heads back in the game."

"You're benching me?" she said. The chief had always played things straight but Videl had never before had a problem with that.

"Take the time to let your leg heal properly and we can reassess the situation then," said the chief. "My hands are tied here. I can't do anything."

"Why does it matter so much?" Videl questioned as her eyes began to well. The teardrops sat in their ducts and dried out soon after. "So what if he didn't beat Cell? So what if he's a liar?"

"The world is a complicated place," said the chief. "For the past two years, your work with the force has been a beacon of hope for the citizens of this city. You did a lot of good, most of it on your own merit. Public opinion can just as easily swing the other way."

"So you were happy to leech off the good publicity the Satan name got you but now all of that means nothing?" asked Videl. "I'm not my father. I never lied about saving anyone - I did it all with my own hands and feet, you saw me do it enough times."

"Of course it means something," said the chief. "To me, to a lot of your colleagues and even to many citizens. At the same time, lots of people are now asking questions - on the outside and the inside. The world's changing and this department needs to be on its toes."

…

Normally, Gohan would have worn his Saiyaman suit and performed his introductory dance, but nothing had been normal since Videl had spilled his secrets to the world. He did not need a hidden identity like before, but without the suit, his dramatic entrance lacked its former appeal. Although the Saiyaman persona was dead, Gohan wouldn't let a crime slide by.

He flew in just as eager to help as Saiyaman would have been. He descended into an alleyway above two muggers standing over a young girl, no older than fifteen. The one with black hair held a knife towards the girl while his blond comrade stood close by. Both looked up to watch Gohan lower himself to where he was floating a few meters above the concrete.

"Ain't that the alien guy all over the news?" the knife-wielder asked.

"Yeah, it's gotta be him," the blond agreed.

"Let the woman go, evildoers!" Gohan shouted, slipping into his Saiyaman voice on instinct. Somehow, it just didn't feel the same.

"Do ya think the freak is as bad as they make him out to be?" the black-haired man asked.

"Dunno, but I ain't gonna stick around to find out." The blond took off, fleeing from the scene. Gohan briefly considered going after him, but decided against him when he remembered the girl.

"I ain't gonna run from no smoke and mirrors," the remaining mugger stated, pointing his knife toward Gohan. "Come on down here, why don't ya?"

The girl's cries for help urged Gohan to obey the man and descend, but the rational part of him decided against it.

"Surrender and you won't be hurt," Gohan said, trying for a more casual voice this time around. It still came out like Saiyaman and he began to miss his old alterego.

The mugger snickered. "You really think you can hurt me, kid?" He waved his knife wildly in the air, as if expecting to defeat the hero with no more than a breeze.

Gohan watched the swipes of the knife, trying to time his opening. As soon as the mugger paused for another taunt, he swooped down and grabbed onto the man by his shirt's collar. He lifted them both into the air and heard the knife clatter to the ground.

"Put me down!" were the only distinguishable words amidst his cries of panic.

The hero watched as two police cars pulled up to the alley, the sound of their flashing sirens ringing in his ears. A group of officers exited out of the vehicles and pointed their guns up into the air.

"Calm down, officers, I have everything under control," he called down to them.

"Put down the civilian and raise your hands into the air!" one shouted.

It took Gohan a moment to process that rather than being cautious of the criminal he was holding, they were attempting to arrest him. His mind raced, trying to find the right words that would pacify his aggressors.

"You are under arrest! Please put down the civilian and lower yourself to the ground," they called again.

Seeing no other way out, Gohan complied and slowly returned to the concrete, lightly lying the criminal beside him. The mugger scampered away from him as soon as he could get to his feet.

"Put your hands in the air," an officer commanded, moving toward him with his handcuffs in one hand and gun in the other.

Gohan did so, glancing around to see if he could find the girl he had saved. She seemed to have escaped at some point, however.

"Stop!" called a voice from the gathering crowd. As if she had heard his mental pleas, the young girl stepped into the alley and approached the police.

"Ma'am, please, step back." An officer gently placed a hand on her shoulder and ushered her back.

"No. I won't let you arrest this man. He saved my life," she insisted.

"Excuse me, ma'am, what exactly happened?" another officer asked, gesturing for his comrade to allow her to come further.

"I was got attacked by that man he was holding and another one with blond hair who ran off. He showed up and saved me. He wasn't doing anything wrong," she explained.

The officers glanced around at one another, murmuring about the situation. Finally, they seemed to come to an agreement.

"Very well. But we still have to request that both of you come with us," he said.

Gohan let out a sigh of relief and lowered his arms to his side. The young lady nodded to the police and followed them to one of their cars. Two other officers began to approach him, albeit warily.

"Son, you have to come with us," one stated when Gohan made no move to go with them.

Gohan rubbed the back of his neck as he backed away, chuckling nervously. "I'm afraid I can't do that, officer," he said.

"I'm sorry, but we must insist. You aren't in any trouble, we just need to hear your account."

"I have somewhere I need to be. I'm really sorry," the teen apologized before hastily turning and flying into the air. He heard their indistinguishable shouts behind him along with the voice of the girl.

He hoped that this incident wouldn't come back to bite him in the near future and the girl would stand up for him once more. Although he didn't enjoy defying authority, he needed to get out of there before the media got word and made the situation even worse than it was already.

He wiped a bead of nervous sweat from his forehead as he blasted toward Orange Star High School.

Gohan soon touched down outside of the high school, ignoring the demands for attention that his fellow student shouted at him. While many didn't dare speak a word in his presence, some bolder students, accompanied by ever-present journalists, let their cries loose outside the building.

He doubted that he would ever get used to these extreme reactions, whether silent or boisterous. He was able to accept that this was his new reality, though, no matter how much he despised it. Videl, however, seemed to think differently.

She still stopped him in the hallways, asking for a chance to explain herself. He never gave her a moment of his time but she was ever persistent. It was ironic, in a way, that the only one with a choice in this matter was so distraught over it. He hardly pitied her.

She had been using crutches recently, and though Gohan was disturbed to discover she had been injured, he could not afford the girl any sympathy. Her injury had fueled more than a few whispers that she was a fraud like her father before her, a crime faker instead of a crime fighter but she hurriedly denied all such accusations.

Gohan kept his gaze fixed on the entrance moving purposefully and not showing any sign that he was giving anyone the slightest bit of his attention. He had learned that in most cases, it was best to ignore them.

As he entered the building, the normal cacophony silenced and he was no less the center of attention. Aside from whispers, he didn't receive the same shouts and cries that he had outside. He didn't know which he preferred.

He walked down the hall in silence. He had recently gotten used to the feeling of curious eyes watching his every stride. He twisted the combination in for his locker and swung it open. As he dug around for his necessary books, he felt a presence approach from behind. He paid it no heed, assuming that they were simply coming to get a closer look at the neighborhood freak.

"You're pretty popular, eh?" The voice made Gohan jump. He glanced at the teenage boy rapidly, staring for a moment before finally comprehending that he expected a response.

"Er, y-yeah, I guess you could say that," he answered with a stutter. The boy who had so boldy approached him had short, black hair an a white T-shirt tucked into his jeans. He wore a friendly smile, reassuring Gohan that this student's attempt at a conversation wasn't malicious.

"Well, who are you?" the boy asked casually. Whether he was clueless or just very friendly, Gohan found some joy in being able to converse with someone out of his immediate family for once. This time, he wasted no time responding.

"I'm Gohan. And you are?" he introduced, laying his books within his locker again and extending a hand.

"Chalk. This is my first day," he said, taking Gohan's hand in his own and squeezing for good measure.

"Yeah, I didn't start too long ago either," Gohan said. Chalk chuckled.

"Well, it sure does seem like everyone knows you already. What's up with that, anyway? I've heard some pretty far-fetched rumors circling around."

Gohan laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his neck. "Well…" he started, before his voice trailed off. He wondered if he could really tell the whole story. What if Chalk reacted like everyone else? His only link to his peers would be gone as suddenly as he came.

Thankfully, Gohan was saved by the school bell ringing through the halls. Chalk groaned.

"Aw, man. I gotta run. See you later?" he said. Gohan nodded his agreement.

"Yeah. See you." He watched his new... friend run off. The word sounded so foreign to him now. He barely shared words with others these days let alone made friends.

He grabbed his books out of his locker once more and started the walk to his first class, a smile plastered on his face and a mood so great that he barely registered the constant watch of his fellow students.

…

Bulma stepped onto the sandy shoreline, her jetcopter disappearing behind her in a plume of smoke. She paused for a moment to assess the sky above her before nodding to herself in satisfaction. Her heels wobbled as she made her way towards the lone house on the island and knocked twice.

A short-pig answered the door. "Hell- oh, it's just you."

Bulma crossed her arms and her nostrils flared. "Well, it's good to see you too, you useless piggy."

Oolong's face soured momentarily before they both burst out into laughter. "So where are the royal pains?"

"Talk about Trunks like that again and I'll cook you for breakfast," warned Bulma as she stepped inside. "I left him at Capsule Corp. I didn't want to attract any extra attention by bringing him. I'm not even sure what Vegeta's up to now."

"Ever heard of a cell phone?" asked Oolong as he gestured for her to sit on the couch. The TV was blaring and Roshi was ogling some aerobics instructor as he attempted to mimic her instructions on a yoga mat.

"I'm pretty sure Vegeta ended up throwing the last one into outer space, so I don't think that would last very long," said Bulma, taking her seat."Plus, I can't imagine him keeping it charged wherever he is to whisper sweet nothings into my ear at night."

"Point taken," said Oolong. He grabbed two beers from the fridge and offered one to Bulma.

"No thanks. I'm here on serious business," she replied, clicking her heels together.

"Suit yourself," he said, flinging the cap into a nearby rubbish bin and sipping from his beverage followed by a satisfied exhale. He jumped back onto the couch behind him.

"Bulma dear, could you lean forward just a smidge," Roshi said from his spot on the floor. "This isn't a good angle for me."

"Can it, old man!" exclaimed Bulma as her cheeks flushed. She was now the CEO of arguably the largest company in the world and simultaneously found time to raise a Saiyan but to Roshi she was still eye candy. "Don't you guys have the news on that stupid TV?"

Roshi sat up straight and turned away from the blonde twenty-something on the aforementioned television. His eyes remained hidden behind his sunglasses but Bulma could tell they were focussed on her own now. "Were you followed?"

"No, I had my secretary arrange a decoy jetcopter for the press. They think it's business as usual for me," she explained. "I came here because I didn't know where else to go."

Roshi grabbed his remote and changed the channel. "Well, it seems like that was a good call."

On the screen was a livestream of Mount Paozu and the Son household. It had quietened down considerably and the police blockade had been extended to give the residents some more space. Other reporters and their respective camera crews were visible to the side of the picture.

"Imagine the chaos if you were seen in contact with them," said Oolong. "It's been almost a week now and the coverage is still going strong."

"I think I may have a solution to that," said Bulma as she glanced at her watch. "I'm going to need everyone's input. Could you be a doll and grab Krillin and Eighteen from upstairs for me?"

Oolong grumbled reluctantly. "I can fetch Krillin but no promises about her." He disappeared up the stairs.

"Can you do me a favour and check on Vegeta for me, old man?" Bulma asked as she glanced over to Roshi. "I didn't want to ask Trunks because I didn't want him to think I'm worried but I am a little concerned. I know he's more likely to be the danger but I can't help myself."

"In exchange for a fee-"

"Before you finish that sentence, you should consider what Eighteen will think about it when she comes down the stairs," Bulma warned him with a devilish smile.

Roshi gulped. "I mean sure - I could never refuse a request from a beautiful woman!" He furrowed his brow in concentration and began to scan the world around him. He wasn't particularly adept at sensing energy over long distances but the likes of Goku and Vegeta had such large signatures that they were impossible to miss. "His ki seems relaxed. I can't sense much around him but I can't tell if that's because he's isolated himself or because I can't pick up on the ki of whatever is around him."

"Better than nothing, I suppose," said Bulma. "Thanks anyway."

Oolong sauntered back down the stairs with Krillin and Eighteen in tow. They sat together on a couch near the one she was occupying.

"Hey Bulma, how've you been?" asked Krillin. "You need to call more."

"I'm sorry. I've been meaning to," she apologised before glancing towards Eighteen. "Thanks for coming down. This is pretty important and I needed to hear some thoughts on what I've got to say. It's a lot to digest so I thought it best to do this in person."

"Sure," said Eighteen, indifferently. "Krillin just put Marron asleep for her nap so we've got all the time in the world."

"I bet the last couple days have been rough," said Krillin. "If there's anything we can do to help…"

"I've been working on it, actually," said Bulma. "I had a long conversation with Furry the other day."

"I think I'd be more impressed if I didn't know a literal god," muttered Oolong. Eighteen glared at him and he recoiled, immediately silencing himself.

"Carry on," said the android.

Bulma shuddered, the blonde's voice sounding more like an order than a suggestion. "He wants me to help the government bridge the gap."

"Bridge the gap?" Krillin repeated. "What does that even mean?"

Bulma shrugged her shoulders. "There's a lot of alien technology that puts what us humans have come up with to shame. I mean I didn't see any Namekians with capsule technology but we're still quite a primitive planet when it comes to space travel and the like. He also wants to learn about ki."

"Oh god," said Oolong. "Please don't tell me that Gohan and Vegeta are going to have to open up a dojo or something."

"Don't be ridiculous," said Bulma. "I don't think either party would be too keen on something like that. People are still wary of Saiyans and their strength. Some don't buy that my husband isn't here to cause any trouble."

"They're being linked to the attacks from when the Saiyans first landed all those years ago," said Roshi. "While I'd say Vegeta is only reaping what he sowed, Gohan had nothing to do with all that."

"Don't forget that none of us would be sitting here to talk about this if it weren't for Vegeta turning over a new leaf," said Bulma. "He's made his mistakes but it would be wrong to hang him out to dry now."

"I'd attribute that to Trunks from the future more than Vegeta, but Bulma's right," said Krillin. "Anyway, back on topic. What does the king want to do with ki?"

"The impression I got was that he wants to study it and then put it to good use," said Bulma. "Weaponise it even."

"It's like arming an ant with a twig," said Eighteen. "Who cares?"

"Well some of us ants might end up hurt by those twigs," replied Bulma. "And besides, a decision like this would change the world as we know it."

"I mean… the cat's already out of the bag," said Krillin. "I can't imagine folks letting us hoard this information much longer in peace. Maybe the exchange can be a little more amicable? With any luck, you might be able to crack your bedroom window open again."

"I'm surprised you're all on board with this," said Bulma. "I was expecting a long debate."

"I'm not," said Roshi. "The knowledge and techniques I've bestowed upon my students were once bestowed upon me long ago by my own master, who deemed me worthy of his teachings. Just as I knew Goku, Krillin and Yamcha would use what I've taught them for good. Sharing this with the rest of the world means sharing it with those who would use it for nefarious purposes too. I'm not talking about your Friezas or King Piccolos but rather the regular scum out there. The ones who would happily put others above themselves."

"There is only one Saiyaman," said Krillin. "And he only operates in one city, anyway. That's a good point Master Roshi."

"Bullets or ki-blasts, does it really make a difference?" asked Oolong. "At least this way, we can be sure that we'll leave a legacy behind - something that'll benefit the entire human race if we all get vapourised the next time something crazy goes on."

"The pig has a point too," said Bulma with a smirk. She missed the old days. "I'm not entirely sure where I stand, personally. On one hand, I want the amusement park that's opened on top of my home to shut down but on the other I am worried about the consequences of helping the government out. I feel responsible."

"Do you feel responsible everytime a terrorist uses a capsule to smuggle weapons?" asked Krillin. "I understand what you mean but it's up to people to determine how to use the tools at their disposal. That doesn't mean that scientific innovation is wrong."

Although Bulma could not fault the logic, an uneasy pit began to take refuge within the depths of her stomach.

…

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