AN: Hey guys! I'm sorry I missed on my monthly update! But it's just one day, so I suppose it's not all that bad. For most of October, I got caught up with some of my FMA stuff, and a bit of drawing stuff. I realize I could have uploaded this chapter at any time, but I wanted to start my progress on this story again, so I had to make sure I finished chapter 6 before I went back to this.

I want to make sure I'm ahead at least a couple of chapters, so in case I need to change anything, I can insert/delete stuff from earlier chapters, instead of working myself into a corner. Anyway, here goes.

Chapter 4: Of Faulty Radars and Faulty Friendships

There was a small spark of delight in his heart when Gohan saw his small dot of a home on the horizon. One week. He didn't realize he would miss it so badly. He had never been terribly immune to homesickness, but he didn't expect it to hit him this much, especially when he had only been several miles away, definitely traversible in a few minutes at his highest speed. But he had never been away from home for a long time in the past seven years. And it wasn't the same as knowing that he couldn't go home; he just chose not to, because it was convenient, and for some reason, that made his homesickness a little bittersweet.

He landed with a small thump by their front door. He could already smell the wonderful aroma of roasted mountain bird, and it became all the more obvious when he opened the door, and went inside.

Goten was on the floor playing with some small plastic trucks. He looked up, and upon seeing Gohan, sprinted with the speed of an incarnated devil to embrace him.

"You're back!" the seven year old yelled, clutching Gohan's torso so much that Gohan found it quite difficult to breathe.

"Yeah!" he rubbed his little brother's head, and looked up just in time to see his mother come into the room, a large bowl within the cradle of her arms.

"Hey Mom! How's it going with both of you?"

Chichi gasped, then dropped the bowl on the dinner table, and rushed forward to mimic Goten, as she threw her arms around Gohan in a warm welcome.

"Oh Gohan! It's good to see you," she exclaimed.

"Aw Mom! I was only away for a week." He reminded her, "And I called every night."

"Oh you know," Chichi released him, leaving Goten still hanging from his brother's shirt. "I'm just an overly emotional mother, that's what I am."

"Gohan, it was so boring without you!" Gohan looked down to see his brother pouting heavily, his fists the only thing holding him up as he dangled three feet from the floor. "Don't leave again!"

"Well I have school next week, Goten." Gohan picked his brother up, and laid him down on one of the dinner chairs.

"Why do you have to go to school?"

"To study. I'm sure I explained it to you before," Gohan ruffled his brother's already messy hair, and realized belatedly how much he missed something even as small as this. "I've already learned as much as I could by myself, but there are people at school who can teach me even more!"

"Well that's too bad! I met a new dinosaur yesterday!" Goten chirped. He followed his older brother around as Gohan went to their room to change into his home clothes. The little seven year old chattered excitedly about a new nest he found tucked away by the cliffs where a new dinosaur family had come to live. Gohan listened earnestly, his young brother's area of interest a breath of fresh air from the philosophically or scientifically oriented conversations during his school days.

After caressing his old cotton shirt a bit too much – and feeling rather silly for it – Gohan turned back to his brother.

"I hope you're not planning to go off searching for more dino nests. Those mountain cliffs you found are already far enough. You'll have Mom worrying!"

"She went with me!" Goten held up his small hands defensively. "She was also on Nimbus."

That took Gohan by surprise. His mother had become very lenient after the Cell games, and especially after Goten was born, but he didn't know that his mother had the disposition to go dinosaur sightseeing.

"We were pretending to look for the dragon ball," Goten added.

Gohan opened the door and let his brother exit first. Already, the smell of spicy roasted poultry was too much to handle, and he could not wait to settle down at the dinner table.

"What do you mean, squirt? Did you lose the four-star dragon ball from Daddy's grandpa?"

"No, not that one," Goten said. "Another one. The one Trunks said was missing!"

"'Missing'?" Gohan asked, intrigued.

Chichi came in from the kitchen, a large plate of seafood fried rice and one bowl of vegetable stew balanced on her right arm.

"Apparently so," she answered, distributing a set of chopsticks among her sons. "Trunks came over two days ago, and said that he'd been playing with one of his mother's dragon radar. He said he could only find six of the dragon balls on the radar's system." Chichi shrugged. "Must be a bug or something."

Huh. It was rare for Bulma to leave bugs running amok her machines, especially ones that she had had practice in engineering for a long time. Still, that was a thought for another time. Right now, it was time to feast!

As much as Gohan wanted to savour this dinner – the first in five nights when he was actually able to taste something other than artificial flavours – he couldn't help but gobble up each of the servings he helped himself to. Inhaling their dinner, a phrase coined for the Saiyans among the gang, was something he thought had been slightly exaggerated, but seeing his behaviour at the moment... well, they had a point, he could give them that.

His mother must have noticed his over-zealousness with the food, and patted his arm.

"Don't worry Gohan, you'll get more of that over the weekend."

He beamed, and promised his mother he would do the dishes in exchange for her hard culinary work.

When the moon was higher up in the sky and Gohan finally managed to ease his little brother under the sheets to sleep, his mother called him from the living room.

"The phone!" she told him. Gohan knew that not many people had his number, so he had a pretty good idea who it might be. It was just a little surprising to receive a call after such a short time.

"He says he's your friend. Del?"

Gohan beamed. "Ah yes!" He took the phone from his mother, and sat down on the couch beside the desk where the phone was resting.

"Hey Del! What's up?"

On the other end, the snarky boy he had come to know over the past week sounded subdued and hesitant. "Gohan, I'm really sorry about calling so late. But I figured that since you live so far away, it's unlikely you'd get home any earlier. And I just... I didn't know who else to call, and I just needed to tell someone. Talk to someone."

"Oh no, is there something wrong?"

There was silence for a moment, and then a pained grunt, followed by a heavy sigh.

"Are you okay, Del?"

"...No."

"What's wrong?"

"I have a... g-girlfriend," Del's voice squeaked at the end, and his distress was unmistakeable.

Oh. And here Gohan thought getting a girlfriend was usually a celebrated, coming-of-age moment in a young man's life. Perhaps in this respect, he had also been misinformed, and sheltered from the more modern and urban perspective.

"I... I don't know what to say Del," which was the truth. "I'm sorry. I feel horrible."

"I know!" Del all but wailed. "I just... I didn't even know what was going on. I was just walking, and she greeted me, and there was this weird stalker, and they started fighting, and then she said I was her boyfriend, but I said no, but this is Erasa we're talking about here and I just knew she wouldn't be convinced by that, and now she's booking a date with me!"

"Hold on, you have to slow down!" Gohan interrupted. "I think you lost me on the first sentence. So there's a girl you know–"

"I don't actually know her," Del corrected. "I just met her. Today. A few hours ago."

"Oh!"

"Yeah, I think you can see my problem."

"Is there a way you can tell her you're not interested?"

"I told her I wasn't," Del said. "But she just said there was no way a boy wouldn't be interested, because boys are always interested!"

Gohan sighed, smiling at his Mom who came around to hand him a small bowl of grapes, her face a perfect facade of curiosity and playfulness.

"I'm not sure if I'm the right person to ask for help about this. I've never been in a similar situation, and Dende only knows how clueless I am about girls." Gohan didn't miss the second his mother perked up at hearing the last word, and he felt her chi as she hovered about him, pretending to be doing some late night organizing.

"... who is Dende?" Del asked, sounding extremely confused.

Gohan straightened. "Uh, I mean, Kami! Yeah, uh... it's another word for Kami. Us mountain folks call him by a different name sometimes, so uh... yeah." He rubbed the back of his neck, his skin heating up even though he knew that Del couldn't see him. Of course the world didn't know too much about what went on at Kami's Lookout, much less about who was actually up there! It was kind of scary, if the thought about it. All these people putting their faith on a creature that was no longer who they thought he was.

Good thing his friend bought it.

"It's alright, Gohan. I didn't exactly call for advice. I just needed to vent. Thanks for listening."

"It's no problem at all. And if it makes you feel better, maybe giving her a chance won't be so bad."

"No, you don't understand. I can't give her a chance," Gohan noticed how his voice suddenly flattened, almost as if this was an ominous territory. "If I do, everything would be ruined! No, it's out of the question entirely."

"Okay. Well, try avoiding her for a few days. Maybe she'll see someone else and forget about you."

Del was quiet after that suggestion. Then with a voice that sounded more energized, he replied, "You know what? I think you're right. See someone else... I think I know who... what a wonderful idea! I think I would do just that!"

Gohan smiled, though he did not know exactly what it was about his suggestion that made Del feel better. He was merely glad that he did.

"Cool, now that's settled, how is your extra studying going?" He could almost see Del shrug at the other end of the line, so used he was to seeing his friend's usual gesture.

"Pretty good. I'm not going to turn into your clone overnight, but I at least managed to finish all the exercises for the first three chapters of Calc Advanced."

"Great to hear it! Tell you what," Gohan crossed his legs more comfortably on the couch. "When I come back there next week, we can both work through some of those exercises together."

"Well... if you insist," the hesitance was there again. "I'd appreciate it though."

"Awesome. See you then!" Gohan hung up.

And he turned around to see his mother making dusting motions off a perfectly clean picture frame. She was staring back at him, expectant, but he didn't really know what she wanted from him.

"He's a friend from school," was all he managed. Chichi put down the frame, and put her hands on her hips.

"And you two were talking about girls?"

Gohan gulped. His mother wasn't frowning exactly, but her voice held a hint of sternness that indicated that she could either be pleased or extremely cross about something. Sometimes he couldn't tell.

"Well, I wasn't, but Del was."

The mother of two sighed as she placed a palm on her forehead. "Look Gohan, I'm not going to berate you because you are of age after all, but girls weren't exactly on the top of my priority list when I decided you needed to get an education in the city. It's just one year, so if you can stick it out until then, all the better."

"Hehe, Mom, look. You've got nothing to worry about here. I promise!" Gohan chuckled. His mother looked relieved, and Gohan went back to his room, sneaking under the covers of his bed.

He sighed pleasantly as he relaxed against the familiar feel of his mattress. There was nothing like sleeping on his own bed; it wasn't as big or soft as the one in his dorm room, but he had gotten used to it. It knew his shape, and it fit him perfectly.

Poor Del. The boy really had some bad luck. Since the start of the school year, it appeared to him as if Del was having a harder time than him adjusting to the new school environment. He wanted to help as much as he could, but Del was also really shy, and rarely allowed him the opportunity to talk beyond matters of education. As a matter of fact, Gohan was extremely surprised to be the only person Del said he could think of to talk to about his girlfriend situation!

Too bad Gohan didn't know how to help him with that kind of problem. If he knew, he probably wouldn't be so stuck with his own little 'issue' with Videl. Videl Satan, who, even with his mightiest efforts to ignore, would not leave his mind. It was weird! The last time he had been so hung up and interested on a subject was when he first read about quantum physics. Back then, he had read as many books as he could get his hands on about the topic, and even borrowed several hours of Bulma's time to have her explain some of the more complicated things to him.

He had tried, after leaving the crime scene, to keep Videl to the sidelines of his thoughts. But she kept popping up, their interaction at the highway replaying over and over in his mind. He'd read about psychological effects like that; you couldn't really forcefully forget about something, because part of your brain was trying to keep track of what it must forget. Traitorous brain!

The honest truth was that he just wanted to get to know her. Talk to her maybe. About martial arts. Who taught her? Her style didn't look like any of the ones Hercule Satan displayed while he was on TV. How did she train? What was her favourite move? Did she train in the mornings or at night?

What would she feel about half-aliens who loved to read historical mystery?

Gohan sighed and buried his head beneath his pillow.

He always thought he was quite self-aware and introspective. But he didn't know where this sudden need for... something – companionship, friendship, whatever you called it – came from. He was seventeen, either a decade too old or two decades too young to have any fitting friendships with anybody in his group of family friends. Not like he was ungrateful, no. He loved his friends.

But somehow he still wished for someone a little more like himself.

Which was almost entirely impossible. Where was he going to find someone who constantly had to reconcile two opposing halves of themselves?

-o-

It was now halfway through the second week of school, and Videl was in Gohan's room for their daily homework session when she and Gohan could work on group assignments together, and when she could receive some more tips on her personal educational endeavours. Videl watched Gohan lie back on his bed, half a dozen notebooks acting like his blanket.

She fingered the small metal device attached to the closed collar of her shirt. She had finally convinced Miso to give her a voice-changing device. They had set the configurations to sound like her voice deepened a few mels, so that it didn't differ too much from the first week, but that also allowed her to pass more convincingly as a boy. Videl thought she'd just attribute any noticeable differences to an unexpected cold on the first week.

But Gohan didn't notice, and Videl felt relieved. He was the only person she pretty much talked to, and the only one who really had any chance of finding out about her cover.

"And... I think I've got it," he whispered happily, almost to himself, as he finished writing on the notebook he was holding up. He sat up, the other books on top of him sliding off his body, and Videl couldn't help but watch their trail down the sides of his torso. She caught herself before Gohan noticed she was staring, and mentally smacked herself.

Kami, out of all the places you can check out a boy, you have to do it on your spying time when you're dressed as a boy! She huffed to herself. It wasn't as if being her real self would be any better. Videl Satan never checked out a boy. Nope, not her. But being Del Natas... well, that had a different implication altogether.

"I figured out the answer to the last question on the problem set. Your approach was correct, and I only had to shift the equations around using some of the trig identities to figure out how to isolate the variable." He handed her the paper, and for a second a spike of stress shot up her spine, but when she read his answer, she found out that she could actually understand it. It made sense. There was logic in it.

She could understand it. Holy smokes!

"Awesome!" she replied. "I'll write up the good copy then." She stored the sheet away in her math folder.

When she looked back up, she found Gohan toying with his notebooks, smoothing out some of the folded edges, and pinching the corners of the cardboard that threatened to peel. He was so conscientious about such little things. He really took care of his possessions. She wondered briefly who taught him to be so, or whom he had taken after.

"Gohan... I hope you don't mind if I ask, but what do you parents do?"

He looked up at her. "Oh, well my mother is a full time housewife. She takes care of my brother and me. Dad... well, he's not here any longer." There was a note of sadness in his tone that she was hard pressed to miss. Oh. So Son Goku wasn't alive anymore. She herself was familiar with the kind of burdensome feelings that death left behind; she couldn't have mistaken his implication for anything else at all.

"I'm sorry," she said, and truly she was. "If you don't want to talk about it–"

"No, it's fine," he said as he smiled good-naturedly. "It was a long time ago."

She nodded. "Son Goku, right? The martial artist?"

His eyes widened at that, and his smile grew bigger. "Yes! You've heard of him?"

"A little," she admitted. "He did win several tournaments."

Gohan's grin never wavered. He pushed the notebooks aside, and put his chin on his palm, leaning towards her.

"So you're into martial arts?"

"No!" she blurted, a little louder than she meant, than what was appropriate for a simple denial. "But uh, you know, people can't help but hear about these things." She said lamely.

"Oh? Well my father must have been more popular than I thought," Gohan said, scratching his chin.

"Yeah, and actually about that," Videl shifted in her seat, a chair she took from her own bedroom. "Since you know a bit about martial arts, I'm assuming... do you happen to know of certain techniques that... well, it might sound strange but, techniques that could perhaps give a person an extra boost of strength? You know, maybe to even suspend themselves in the air for long periods of time?"

She knew she was being deliberately vague, yet at the same time clearly indicative of the strangeness of the abilities she was referring to. The "Great Saiyaman" or so he called himself had been an irritating enigma that even Miso could not figure out.

The big question that none of them could answer was why now? Why were all these weird events occurring all at relatively the same time? The sudden theft, the odd rumours, the new superhero-in-disguise... she even told them about the boy who followed her begging for a date! Were they all related, or did Kami up there got bored and suddenly decided to spontaneously trigger a series of events that could lighten up his time?

Gohan paused, looking away for a moment. Then he straightened – much too quickly, Videl noticed – before putting his hand to the back of his neck in what she now considered as the typical sheepish-Gohan gesture.

"Well, that's bordering more on science than it is on martial arts, doesn't it?"

Videl sighed. "You've heard of Saiyaman, right? The entire city has been talking about him since the weekend."

Gohan nodded fervently. "Oh yes, I've heard about him. I didn't know what the fuss was about, because I went straight home to the mountains after class on Friday, but I did hear that he was awesome, with good taste in clothes!"

"I – wait, I haven't heard of that particular one – but I saw him! On the television, I mean!" Videl quickly added. "He really was flying, you know. And he threw that bus like it weighed nothing. I just don't understand..."

Gohan chuckled nervously, and shrugged. "Yeah, all these camera tricks are getting really good lately, don't you think?"

"No, Gohan. It wasn't a camera trick. I was there... I mean, I was there watching on TV as the events unfolded, and I don't think they could have applied camera tricks on an event as it was happening."

Gohan looked away to pick up their school agenda. "Hehe, well I'm not really sure. I can't really tell with these things." Then he checked off their math homework. "Well, that's done! I think we'll definitely impress Mr. Foo Bar on this assignment set, don't you think?"

Videl was pulled back from her reverie on Saiyaman when Gohan said their teacher's name. She felt a cloud of restlessness every time she considered how little she had uncovered on the prime suspects for the theft. But there was a clear, thick line between students and their teachers at this school; it was very hierarchical, and it wasn't like Del could just prance around wherever he liked. It had been bothering her almost from the very beginning. How could she take risks and break the rules and still appear inconspicuous?

"Yeah," she replied. "Mr. Foo Bar cares a lot about how well we do. He's really motivated to be the best math teacher out there, isn't he?"

"It seems so!" Gohan said cheerfully.

And just to try for an opening, Videl added, "Maybe even way too motivated..."

However, she received nothing but a bewildered stare. "Uh, what exactly do you mean, Del?"

Ugh, no luck there I guess.

Even among the other staff who were redlisted, she could find nothing out of place. Of course, on the surface, she could hardly expect to see something wrong; after all, if it were so easy to spot the culprit, they wouldn't even need her, a clear outsider, to do their job for them! Even Mrs. Bay B. Blue, who had been a staff here for five years, was clearly stumped as to who among their suspects could really be the one capable of grand theft.

"Hey Del," Gohan began tentatively. "I was wondering. Would you like to be partners for the science fair coming up? I think we'd be a very good team together!"

Videl almost hesitated, but then realized that there was really no other person she could partner up with. Gladly, she accepted. "Of course!"

He smiled slowly, a charming smile that sent some unknown warmth through Videl's body, all the way down to her toes.

"And if you're willing to go," he continued. "I know just the place where we can get inspiration!"

-o-

Gohan had called Bulma to ask when Vegeta and Trunks were most likely to leave the residence. He knew that the two fighters rarely ever left Capsule Corps, but once in a while, Trunks would be able to trick his father into taking him to the park or the carnival.

On Thursday, he received a call from the scientist that the way was clear, and if they were free, so was the Corps' demo sector.

Now, he paced the cool halls of Capsule Corps' first floor, the shiny marble tiles reflecting his image in an emerald hue. Beside him Del paced uncertainly, eyes darting from one of the hidden cameras to the next. Gohan was surprised at the keenness of his friend's eyes. If he hadn't been familiar with the place from his childhood, he'd never be aware of those cameras... at least, not immediately.

"Do you have those at home too?" Gohan asked.

Del narrowed his eyes at the camera above them, and looked around at the two servant bots that wheezed past them.

"Well, not exactly like this, we're not that..." he paused, almost as if he just realized what he said. Then he straightened, returned Gohan's gaze straight on, and said more audibly, "No, no. I mean, we're not that rich. A couple of cameras, sure, those you can get cheaply for a discount, but uh, nothing this grand of course!"

"Wow, even so!" Gohan exclaimed. "Is there a great risk of danger where you live in Satan City? For your family to have security cameras?"

Del shrugged. "Not dangerous things, no. Just petty stuff, like people snooping at your backyard, trying to look through your windows and stuff."

"Eh? That's pretty strange!"

"Ha! Well, tell them that. As for me, I completely agree."

"I'm guessing you don't miss home that much if it's so bothersome? Or perhaps you miss your family?" Gohan asked. He wondered if it was strange for a boy his age to feel homesick.

"Well, I keep in touch with my father on the phone, but he's pretty busy, and nobody else is at home. There's really not that much to miss."

"Don't you have friends from your old school?"

Del seemed to hesitate at this. "Well, I had... acquaintances. Never really friends because... well because I don't go out much."

He ended with that familiar tone, of finality and guardedness, that Gohan had first observed during their first couple of days together. A small part of him felt disappointed that Del still felt he couldn't trust Gohan with information about his family or past. Every time Gohan tried to bring something relevant to those topics, Del would strategically move the focus away and onto another subject, or just clam up like he did now. But Gohan, out of all people, also knew about secrets and tough pasts; he didn't have any right to force it out of someone else.

He let it go, and instead questioned whether his decision to visit Capsule Corps was a good one – a safe one. Vegeta and Trunks could usually behave well around others, at least those who pose no threat. Del, though sometimes moody, was also a reserved type who didn't look like he could hurt a bug if he wanted. There really was a very small risk, and the prospect of leaving the stuffy air of the school grounds, as well as the matte pages of their textbooks, seemed pretty worth it to Gohan.

"I can't believe you've been here before," Del muttered, completely awed as they entered another hallway, the final one which Gohan said would lead them straight to the demo sector.

"It's pretty grand, isn't it?" Gohan agreed.

"Wow... it's just, you've had all this opportunity at the tip of your fingers since you were young! All these crazy experiments and intelligent innovation. There's no legal repercussions to touring the headquarters at all?"

"There could be. I'm actually not too sure," Gohan admitted. "But Bulma trusts me than most. She'd been friends with my father for a long time, you see, and what would my family do with all these technology anyway? We live up in the mountains. My father had no need for these things, and he wouldn't be able to understand them anyway. My mother, too, is just a simple woman."

They reached the end of the hallway, which was terminated by a large, metal door. Shiny and reflective, Gohan could tell that the protective material was made of the same substance as the one Bulma used for the gravity chambers and the floating warrior bots that helped Vegeta with his trainings. On the wall adjacent to the door was an inlaid keypad, but Gohan had never received a password to enter. Instead he pressed the speaker button which directed him straight to Bulma.

"Hey Bulma! Del and I have reached the demo room. Can you please open the doors?"

"Sure thing! And I'd be down there in a moment to show you around," came the response from the speaker.

The metal doors slid slowly apart, and Gohan entered the large room with Del. They were underground, as that gave CC an extra expanse of land without worrying about neighbours. Inside, the room was populated with long, polished, wooden tables proudly displaying the latest gadgets in the making at CC. To the left, the gadgets ranged from small to medium sized devices that were meant to be carried personally – earrings, fake teeth, watches, phones, and of course, the ever increasingly popular capsules. In the middle of the room, the tables sported larger gadgets: computers, intelligent kitchen appliances, and small robots. To the right side, there were no tables at all; the machineries stood by themselves. These were cars, human-sized robots, elevator models, robotic furniture, and the like.

"Whoa," Del released what seemed like a long-held breath, as he scanned the contents of the room. "Wow, Gohan. You were right. This is exactly the place we need to figure out what we can do for the science fair."

They went over to the tables on the left first. Del kept his arms close to his sides, looking like he was afraid to touch anything. Gohan reassured him that they can touch these prototypes.

"If they break, it just means they weren't ready to go out to production yet," he explained, as he picked up a pair of earrings meant to facilitate secret, long-distance conversations.

"What we need," Del began as he lifted some of the devices from the table, speculating their purpose. "Is something that builds off of these inventions here. If the companies are willing to buy the winning project, it has to be something that none of the companies have thought up of yet. At least not to the same standard or capacity."

Del continued to pick up stuff from the table. Gohan casually moved away when Del got to the watches and glanced behind him to look at Gohan's wrist. He could, of course, say that the watch had been a gift from Bulma, but he didn't want Del to be curious about the watch's true purpose.

Del looked like he was about to say something, when the door opened up and the heiress herself walked into the room in all her blue-haired, slim-dress glory.

"Hello there!" she greeted, shaking Del's hand. "You must be Gohan's friend, Del. Pleased to meet you." Then she gestured around her. "Is there anything you wish to see in particular? I can give you a small tour if you'd like."

Del nodded. "Of course. Gohan and I haven't really thought about the project yet, so it's a good time to just see what's already available out there."

Bulma led both of them around the room, introducing them to some of the more peculiar devices and explaining their intended purposes. She also pointed to some of the familiar gadgets and elaborated what difference Capsule Corps had made in their structures.

When Del was off by himself curiously inspecting a car, Bulma took Gohan aside to speak to him privately.

"So, how's school?" she asked.

"Ah, not too bad," Gohan answered. "The teachers are amusing at best, kind of boring at worst. But it's been fun getting to live in a different environment. Sometimes I get homesick though."

Bulma patted him on the shoulder. "Well then I hope my little gift to you has been helpful in giving you something fun to look forward to," her gaze indicated the watch on his wrist. "I saw your stunt last Friday on the news. Great job!"

The half-Saiyan chuckled and bit his lip. "Thanks! Too bad I haven't had a chance to go out again. West City Academy is pretty peaceful and laid back, and we don't really get an opportunity to hear about what's happening outside the gates, until the news has already done coverage."

"You'll find more opportunities, I'm sure. There's no need to rush."

"Oh absolutely. I kinda wished I had this costume a couple of weeks ago. Would have prevented certain rumours from going around."

"Don't mind those too much," Bulma said. "From what I heard, only the young delinquents were talking about it. The older witnesses have all but attributed it to insomnia and pulling all-nighters for work." Then in a quieter tone, she continued. "Do you want a small project? It doesn't have to be for the science fair. It's just a small issue you can look into to get your science-gears turning. Also completely optional."

"What is it?" Gohan asked, interested.

"My dragon radar has been detecting only six of the dragon balls lately. I'm not sure when it began, since we've hardly had any need for the dragon balls in a long time. I checked last week though to see if the radar was still in good shape. So, perhaps it isn't anymore, or one dragon ball has fallen off the face of the Earth. I'm thinking more along the lines of the former, so if you can take a look at it, that'll be great. I'd do it myself, but I have more pressing projects to work on."

Oh yeah, Goten had told him about it when he went home over the weekend. He thought it was rather odd, but he wasn't alarmed about it. The dragon balls were a sturdy bunch, and if worse comes to worst, he could always pay Dende a little visit and ask what was going on. As a matter of fact, that should probably be his first move.

"I'll go to Kami's Lookout when I get the chance. Then I'll take a look at your radar," Gohan offered.

"I'll give you all three of them," Bulma said. "I have an old spare from our trip to Namek, and I created a quick prototype over the weekend with the same configurations as the one we usually use. All three of them are showing the same symptoms." She shrugged. "It may just mean it's time for a new algorithm."

They finished off their conversations when Del came towards them.

"Thank you so much for the tour, Ms. Briefs!" he exclaimed. "All the things you have here are so interesting!"

"I'm glad to be of service," Bulma winked. "I'm expecting good things from both of you, don't forget that!" She led them out of the room, and they took an elevator up to the ground level. "I have snacks prepared for you guys, so just head off to the guest room. My mother should already be there with the food." Then Bulma excused herself to continue working at her lab.

As they traversed a hallway, Gohan spotted one of the lower level workout rooms reserved for some extra gym equipment. Gohan smiled and veered off to the left to enter it.

"Hey Del, check this out!" he went inside eagerly. He hadn't known that Bulma created more training equipment for Vegeta. He remembered that this room was where they put all the stuff Vegeta wanted for the gravity room, but they couldn't move them in all at once, otherwise it would be too crowded. So the Saiyan prince picked and chose which one went into the GR and when. Gohan inspected the complex machineries, admiring the smooth, sleek finish to their outer surface. Even though Gohan didn't train much, at least not to the extent that Vegeta did, or even Trunks, he still enjoyed a good spar once or twice a week.

He only noticed that Del was still hovering shyly by the door when he turned around to find that he was alone in the room.

"Del, come in!" he motioned for his friend to stand by him. "Let's try this." One of the workout machines, a longer version of a treadmill with a belt composed of a malleable material that could change textures when a setting was configured on the machine. Gohan tested out the different settings, and found that the belt changed from a rocky texture, to an ice-slippery feel, to a deep sandy simulation that would swallow one's steps.

"Are we allowed to?"

Gohan grinned back, feeling one of his rare bouts of impulsiveness rise within him. "Oh trust me. The owner wouldn't be able to do a thing about it. And Bulma technically owns this! She doesn't mind. I've tried some of the others before."

He moved out of the way to let Del hop on, but the smaller boy just looked at him with wide, fearful eyes.

"Uh, I can't."

"Sure you can." Gohan returned the settings to the default. "Let's start with the normal one first, if you'd like."

"No, that's not what I meant. I meant... I really can't do this."

"This?"

"Yup, this." Del gestured to the entire room.

It was only then that Gohan realized he had never seen his friend out on the tracks or involved in any kind of sports activity at school. He didn't even have a PhysEd class on his schedule.

"Why not?"

Del bit his lip nervously. "I have... bad ankles."

Gohan smiled. "That's okay. A little jog won't do you any harm, and if you practice, you'd actually find that your ankles would get stronger."

"I also have... weak blood!" Del retorted. "I – I have fainting spells whenever I get too active. It's a rare case of anemia. One in three million people have it! Nothing can cure it!"

He looked at his friend, who now had a dash of blush across his cheeks. It must have been difficult for him to admit to such a shortcoming, that Gohan felt so bad for forcing him into a situation in which he had to reveal his secret.

But... nothing can cure it? Well how about a senzu bean?

"Actually, I might–" he began, when the door burst open, and Trunks came zooming into the room.

"Gohan, hey, you never told us you'd stop by!" The kid ran to him, and did a couple of laps around Gohan, quite quickly too. He had almost been a blur. Gohan began to tense, his head turning immediately to the doorway. He didn't see Vegeta anywhere, however.

"Where's your father, Trunks?" he asked, setting a calming hand on the boy's shoulder. Del was already wide-eyed with wonder watching the eight-year-old spin around Gohan in tight turns with incredible speed.

"The GR like always," Trunks answered, looking up at Gohan. "Yeah, you probably need to get out of here, before he finds out you've been touching his things. He's not gonna like that at all. But Mom would probably yell at him if he does anything anyway, so... well, whatever."

Then he turned around, almost as if noticing Del for the first time.

"Oh hello," he waved though he did not smile. Actually, he looked rather curious. "You must be one of Gohan's nerd buddies."

"Classmates!" Gohan corrected, ushering Trunks out. "Go on, we're actually on our way to the guest room to have some snacks. We're not staying here."

"Cool, snacks! I love snacks!"

"Uh Trunks, don't you have some stuff to do with your Dad?"

"Me? No, what are you talking about? I just spent an entire day with Dad, and the last thing I want to do is to go do more stuff with him." The lavender-haired boy said with disgust.

Reluctantly, Gohan led Del out of the workout room, with Trunks walking several paces ahead of them, with a small leap to his stride, obviously excited at the thought of food. Gohan tucked his hands in his pants pockets, realizing belatedly that he's sweating quite heavily. Trunks and Vegeta weren't supposed to come until late evening, and that was at least two hours away. And it wasn't like he could just tell Trunks to scoot it – this was his home after all, and family friend or not, Gohan was not going to forget his manners suddenly.

Well, this was the risk he had been willing to take.

The only thing left to do now was to make sure Trunks didn't say something about Saiyans. It shouldn't be too hard. Bulma had made sure Trunks didn't do things like that when there was company who didn't know about their heritage.

Besides, with two Saiyans, the snacks were bound to go out fast. They didn't have to stay for too long.

"So your Mom..." Del began, directing his question to Trunks. "Is Bulma?"

"Huh?" Trunks turned around, and regarded Del again with his curious stare. "Yeah."

"Wow. I didn't know Bulma was married."

Trunks huffed. "She isn't." And he left a silence so prominent, Gohan could taste its thickness.

But Del just shrugged and wore a knowing smile. "I see. I understand."

"Who are you anyway?" Trunks asked as they entered the guest room. Like Bulma had said, her mother was already there, sporting a light blue summer dress that showed off her shoulders. Her constant happy smile left her eyes mere lines on her face. She held up a tray filled with confectionery.

"I'm Del Natas, Gohan's classmate. We're just here to look at some of your mother's inventions as inspiration for a science project."

"Ooh a science project!" Mrs. Briefs chirped. "You kids are so hard-working. Now why don't you have some food to fill up your tummies like science fills up your brains?"

Del and Gohan grabbed a handful of small cupcakes to begin with, but Trunks cleared practically half of the tray in one swipe.

"Ooh ho ho, I just love your Saiyan appetite!" Mrs. Briefs exclaimed, and Gohan almost choked. He stood rigid, trying to gauge Del's expression at the edge of his periphery. The shorter boy merely stared confused at Trunks, eying him with obvious suspicion. Gohan saw Del mouth the word "Saiyan," but didn't ask anything.

Just in case, Gohan leaned in close and told him, "It's just an expression for someone who eats really fast."

Del tilted to his head to look up at him. His eyes – Dende, they were so blue, Gohan had a hard time figuring out why hadn't he noticed before – masked any kind of expression. The blank stare lasted for several seconds, and it unnerved Gohan that despite how immobilizing it was, he still could not perceive any kind of emotion. Then Del smiled, a smile that didn't reach his eyes, and nodded, looking down at his cupcake.

What had Gohan been expecting anyway? Suspicion? Distrust? Ugh, but not knowing was worse than any of those!

When Del had finished his cupcake, he turned again to Trunks. "So Trunks, have you heard those odd rumours around your city?"

Gohan felt himself freeze with the mention of the gossip from that night again. Del seemed particularly interested in those. But he had been as careful as he could be! And there was Saiyaman now to provide new gossip. Why that night in particular? All he'd done was prevent a disaster from occurring; the black-out could have harmed many innocent people. If Del really was curious about the real events behind those rumours, shouldn't he consult the electricity providers of West City?

"What odd rumours?" Trunks asked back, gobbling an entire slice of cafe-mocha cake.

"Oh, you haven't heard of them yet? About two weeks ago, when the entire city was blanketed in a black out, some people saw strange things like–"

"People flying, cars disappearing from one spot and appearing in another, 'golden' people?" Trunks interrupted. "Huh. Yeah. I didn't know those were considered odd."

"You don't think they're odd?"

"Nope."

Del's eyes narrowed. "You mean to say that you know–"

"Ha ha!" Gohan laughed loudly, interrupting their conversation, and simultaneously putting himself between the two. "Trunks here loves to read comic books, don't you Trunks? Ha ha, those are very amusing stuff! But I'm afraid Del and I have to finish some homework, so we better go!"

He grabbed Del's wrist, and he felt his friend resist his hold. "Wait, Gohan!" But he didn't let Del slip from his grip, and he took the shortcut across the internal garage to get to one of Capsule Corps' exit. When they were out on the backyard, Del shook himself loose.

-o-

Sharpner stared at the building that loomed over him. It was run-down, paint peeling off in large, horrendous patches, and the metal rails and window sills were golden with rust. That was about the only colour he could see.

He took out his mobile phone and checked the address again. The number painted above the main entrance of the building was slightly washed off, but there couldn't have been any mistake in it. 474 Foulview Street. Well, it was foul alright. At least that part was pretty clear.

He hadn't seen Videl in a few days. Not good. Especially when his father was getting impatient; that was never a good sign. It meant future trouble for him, and by future, he didn't mean years. He meant really soon, if not by the end of the week. Unless he snooped out Videl from her crib directly, the chances of coming across her again any time soon was too slim. And if he did that, he might as well walk into a jail cell by himself, and confess his crimes in the past three years. And while Sharpner was quite confident about his charming skills, he wasn't really sure it would work with police guns.

Ah Videl. Dragon balls. Videl. Dragon balls. It was rare for Sharpner to assign himself more than one personal project, caught up already with so many of his father's. But he convinced himself these were the only ways he could finally end his personal puppetry.

His contact had said he was going to be here at 6:30pm. It was already 6:35, and Sharpner could not see anyone else in the abandoned section of this town. He had even skipped today's class so he could travel the four hours it took to get to this city from West City, and sniff out this spot. The money the man required was safely tucked away in a capsule. It didn't look like he was going to get mugged though. Still, Sharpner was grateful that he'd found some bad clothes lying around in the servants' wing of his mansion. It would be too obvious if he came in his regular clothes, and as much as he hated wrapping himself up in this garbage, it was much better to be safe. If he screwed this one up, there was no way his father could bail him out.

His father didn't know about this. Shouldn't know.

The whole Videl stunt? Sure, that was something Sharpner wanted his father to know soon enough, after he'd succeeded. The dragon balls? Not a chance. There was no way his father should know about it. It was Sharpner's last hope.

"Quite a confusing street we have here," a man, who appeared out of nowhere but who now stood behind him, stated gruffly.

Sharpner gave a knowing nod. "Yup. But the sex-change operation clinic is just around the corner."

He saw the man's mouth twist in disgust, but he didn't become angry. So this was the man. That had been the code-phrase they agreed on. He remembered getting an angry e-mail about his response, but he replied with the nonchalance and adamance of a professional; he was not going to change it. After all, who would he mistake for anyone else with that response?

"Sharpner Pencil, then." The man acknowledged him.

"Mr. I-Don't-Give-Out-My-Name," Sharpner retorted.

The man sneered. "Do you have the money?"

Sharpner uncapsulized the briefcase containing ten thousand zennis. He thought it was a rip-off, but hey, if he was going to get three unconditional wishes from a magic dragon, ten thousand zennis were going to be the least of his regrets.

The man inspected the briefcase closely; then, seeming satisfied, he closed it up and capsulized it again, tucking the small tube in his jacket pocket. From his pants pocket he pulled out a circular device, and handed it to Sharpner.

The blond examined the gadget; the front was covered by a thick green screen, a little cracked on the edges, and much too old fashioned for his taste. Even the metal casing on the sides and the bottom was peppered with rust.

"How old is this thing?" he mumbled.

"Like I said," the man answered him in a gruff tone. "That's a real dragon ball radar from the Red Ribbon Army, back when there was still a Red Ribbon Army to work for."

Sharpner narrowed his eyes. "You're not trying to pull the wool over my head here, are you? Even if you had been an employee, as you've told me in our messages, how would you have gotten this?"

"Does it matter?" the man gripped Sharpner by the collar, and though he towered over the school boy by about a foot, Sharpner didn't let his nervousness show. He was used to bullies like this. He lived with one most of the time. "I got it for you, you paid me, that was our deal. End of story."

He huffed away, muttering curses under his breath, and never once looked back at Sharpner.

Sharpner shrugged. Huh. Well, anyway, how does one get this thing to work again? He began to walk back to the large-ish parking lot he saw on his way to the building. That was the only place big enough in this ragged town to release his jet copter from its capsule.

He clicked the button on top of the device. Nothing happened. For a moment, he felt afraid that he just wasted 10 grand on a piece of trash. No matter how rich he was – and no matter how funny it would be to lose that much of his father's cash on this crap – he cannot deny that he had a sincere need for it. His heart at his throat, he pounded the device against his thigh. Then it began to emit a sad, wheezing noise before the screen lit up to a light green. Coordinate lines began to appear, and then...

And then one blinking round light. Off to the northeast, about fifty kilometers. A spark of excitement bubbled up in Sharpner.

Was this it? Was this finally the time when his life was going to turn around?

The dragon balls, if they existed, if this device was not a hoax, and if a dragon-genie would really appear if he collected all those balls... it could mean the success Sharpner dreamed of! It could mean the end of his father's suffocating hold on him!

It could mean WORLD PEACE!

Well, no, he wasn't about to waste a wish on that, but the others were definitely the first two.

Eagerly, he began to toy with the buttons to familiarize himself with the functionality of the radar. Two quick pushes would zoom into the nearest dragon ball and provide a more comprehensive location description. One quick push would zoom out. Triple clicks shuffled the dragon balls, so that the next nearest dragon ball became the focus of the radar. He began shuffling through all of them, and –

Wait. He could have sworn he'd only shuffled six times. It seemed as if he was back to the first. That was strange. Sharpner did it again, and once again, found that he only gave triple pushes six times, before getting back to the first ball.

"Damn it!" he whispered. "Don't tell me this thing was broken after all."

But six balls were better than none. There was nothing stopping him from collecting all six, and then from there he'd have to see how he could find the seventh one. Or perhaps if he had all six, they'd somehow tell him the location of the last; some magic things were like that, weren't they? Or perhaps two of the dragon balls were so close together that the radar wasn't picking them out separately?

Satiated, Sharpner launched his jet copter, and went to retrieve the nearest one.

-o-

"What was that about?" Videl asked, rubbing her now red wrist. Gohan had a really strong grip, one that she was certain she could have broken out of if only she could pull off a fighting move. But Miso's command stuck to her like glue. Already there was Sharpner following her around. She'd tried be extra careful this week, and she wasn't about to break that carefulness just because she was with someone she sort of trusted.

They passed the beautiful lawn leading out of Capsule Corps, the blaze of the golden-red sun welcoming them as they stepped out of the precincts of the Briefs residence.

"Uh, well you know how kids are." Gohan laughed, running his fingers through his spiky hair, then proceeding to rub the back of his neck.

"I'm an only child who grew up with little to no friends," Videl reminded him of Del's background story. "No, I do not."

"Oh! Well if you did, you'd know how they'd get carried away saying silly things. I just think that our time would be better spent on other things than listening to Trunks babble, hehe."

"Ah, is that it? And here I thought you were deliberately preventing me from learning about something." Her response came with an edge of bitterness, something that really surprised her. After all, wasn't she one of the biggest culprits of keeping secrets? She reeked of secrets, she sometimes wondered why nobody had ever sniffed her out yet. And here she was, feeling antagonized when Gohan kept things to himself, trying to make him feel bad for it.

Slowly, she took a breath. And released it.

"I'm sorry," she replied. And she looked him in the eyes, eyes that seemed so honest and carefree. Well, there was a worried glint in them now, and she felt a pang of guilt. "I shouldn't say things like that." Still, she couldn't quite bring herself to say that if he had things to keep, he had a right to it. That would almost be counter-productive to her mission.

She shook her head, then stopped, worrying that the wig might fly off if she shook hard enough. Self-consciously, she put a hand to her head, and checked that the wig was still secure, while trying her best to appear as if she was just scratching.

"Look, Del," Gohan began. Videl turned around to look at him, noticing the way the late light of the sun had turned his skin into a beige-peach palette. "I'm sorry if my behaviour is hard to put up with," he said sincerely. Videl could tell. "If I act weirdly, it might just be because I was raised in the mountains, and I don't really know how to socialize. At least not in the way you city folks do." That was a lie. At least, it was not the whole truth. Obviously there were other reasons for his odd behaviour. Videl could tell that too.

She forced herself to look straight at him, smile a bit, and say, "I believe you." She wondered if Gohan could tell the same things about her as she could about him.

He opened his mouth to say something more, but a loud explosion to the west rocked the ground beneath them, shocking Videl to her core. For a split second, she was thrown off balance, and she felt her right ear ring with deafening silence. In front of her, Gohan stood as straight as ever, frowning at the direction where the explosion came from.

She felt his hands help her balance. Then he set one firmly on her shoulder.

"Del, stay put! Do you understand?" She heard him say from her left ear. She put a finger in the other one, trying to bring it back to life, worried that she might have lost an incredibly precious asset.

"Del! Listen to me," Gohan said, tone harder than she had ever heard it. "Stay here!"

And with that he fled, running quite quickly, towards the West, winding between the suburban streets.

Videl pulled her finger out, eyes trailing his path. She felt relieved when she found she was starting to hear from her right ear again. Looking back at Capsule Corps, she briefly wondered why nobody inside seemed alarmed, but left that alone to follow Gohan. Stay put, my ass.

She quickly found that she had lost him. The young crime-fighter was even able to track down where the commotion was, but there was no sign of Gohan there either. The top floors of a sky-scraper had blown up... nobody knew the exact reason why; some were whispering that it was a lab accident, and others were concocting tales of conspiracy by bitter competitors. The sky directly above the building was drowning in black smoke, the windows on the top floors were ablaze in angry red flames. Videl's head craned over the shoulders of the people taller than her – almost everybody, dammit – trying to see if there were cops already on the scene.

"We have to do something!" she yelled, and she pushed herself in between the bodies, until an officer touched her shoulder and told her to stay back.

"Stay back?" she yelled. "We have to do something!"

"You can't do anything, young man," the officer said gravely. "But please stay put, and that will definitely help us."

"Argh!" Videl yelled out in frustration. Stay back. Stay put. She put on a wig and suddenly she was helpless.

She was swallowed up by the crowd again, stupid gossip mongers and greedy paparazzis who want nothing in the vicinity but to satiate their own need. She let out a disgusted cry, before pushing her way out of the crowd, and out of the site of the wreckage.

The Satan girl looked up, the gigantic dark clouds of smoke tearing at her impatiently to turn back and do something. But what could she do? She hadn't brought her normal girl clothes along. She had already decided to no longer appear as Videl Satan for a while, since that endangered her mission.

She punched a nearby lamp post, denting the metal where her fist landed.

Was it worth it? This entire mission? Was half a million zennis worth standing by while hundreds of people die?

Her inner musings were interrupted by a sudden burst of – was it cheering? It erupted from the site of the explosion. Videl turned back around to see what was now going on. The others were looking up at the sky. She followed their gaze, and at first, she could not determine what they were looking at; the sky was still covered by the black haze of the fire.

But then... a flash of green! For only a second, but she certainly didn't miss it.

She knew the name at the tip of her tongue before she caught a glimpse of him again. Saiyaman.

For a moment, nothing was happening. Then a strong, typhoon-like wind blew over the scene. So strong in fact that some people were swept away. Videl found purchase by grabbing onto a railing, and digging her feet on the concrete. It lasted for about ten seconds or so.

When the wind ceased, she lifted her head, which she hadn't known she'd braced within her arms. To her complete surprise, there was no trace left of the smokey fumes – only the orangey pink hue of the dusky sky. The top of the building previously prey to the hungry lick of flames were now absent of fire. They stood, scorched and unstable, but there was a blur of motion about the building's perimeter, and one-by-one, each corner seemed to stabilize, as a shift in their infrastructure reinforced them. When the blur came to a stop, everyone cried out in relief and amazement.

It was only then that she got a look of him after the initial green she had spotted. Her guess had been correct all along. It was Saiyaman.

She didn't stay after that. She knew, somehow, deep in her bones that the aftermath would be as well handled as the rescue. Saiyaman wouldn't allow it otherwise.

Videl found a nice quiet park, several minutes away from the site of the commotion. It was absent of people, since most of them were probably near the building anyway. She sat on one of the bench parks.

It wasn't like she was too dense to realize what was going on. Gohan's hasty retreat. Saiyaman's sudden appearance. She had felt a coldness in her fingers and toes when the realization dawned on her. Perhaps she was wrong; maybe it was a coincidence. But the connection had been made, and it might take a lot of disproving before she'd abandon her hypothesis.

Huh. So this was what she got for trying to make friends. They almost seemed perfect for each other; two people keeping secrets and trying to act innocent. What a nice pair they made. Deserving.

She felt a vibration on her thigh, and she took out her phone from her pocket. On the screen, a mail icon blinked. She found out it was from Erasa. At the girl's insistence, she had given Del's school e-mail. It seemed sensible at the time.

Ready for our date tomorrow night? It read.

Videl sighed. No, she was not freaking ready! She could barely handle being Videl right now, much less Del on a date with a former best friend who had a romantic history with her own stalker who was her alter-ego's fellow schoolmate. She buried her face in her hands.

Then she picked up the phone. As much as she hated the thought of disappointing Erasa, she sent back a short "I have to cancel" apology. She couldn't bring herself to just not go. Erasa deserved at least a warning. Videl had even thought of visiting Erasa as herself, to get the girl's mind off of Del. She got that idea after her call with Gohan over the weekend. It seemed so much simpler than trying to juggle two personalities to a person who had known her well. The only reason she was able to do it with Gohan was because he did not know who she really was.

Uh, Gohan.

She sighed. She didn't know whether she felt worse lying to a kind person or being lied to by that same seemingly kind person.

She didn't even know why she felt so distraught about it. Shouldn't this be easier now? The key to one of the mysteries blocking her path can be found ten feet from her own dorm.

"Hey Del!"

Videl looked up and found Gohan standing beside the bench. He looked perfectly normal, as if he hadn't even gone on a strenuous jog. There were no signs of breaking sweat, of panting that a person who'd just spent revolving around a building would have sported.

"I've been looking for you!" he added. "I, uh, knew someone, another family friend who said he'd be where the fire was, so I... uhm, I just went to make sure he was okay."

Del nodded, noting Gohan's need to explain himself even though she hadn't asked.

"And he is. Okay, I mean," Gohan continued awkwardly.

She didn't know how to respond to that, so she opted for the one truth she could actually tell at the moment.

"I'm tired."

Gohan's smile faded a bit. "Oh? Well, okay. Let's go back to school then."

AN: And as always, a writer's muse lives off of reader responses. Let me know how I did with this chapter, and how I'm doing with the story. There's only 1 chapter left for part 1, and starting from chapter 6 I'd really be working my but off to tie all plot threads together for a clean ending.

Oh, and speaking of chapter 6, the preview for that is up on my Tumblr. Check it out if you have time. It's my favourite chapter thus far, and it was super exciting to write. Gohan finds out about Videl then, so if you want a sneak peek of how that goes, just had over to the link on my profile page.