Spark of Hope

by Justin Jossart

CHAPTER THREE

"Oh, Kami, please don't be dead."

A woman's voice slowly voice brought the world into focus. I could vaguely make out a teenaged girl gently shaking my shoulder. She was probably trying to avoid exacerbating my many injuries. I could barely move. Everything hurt. Ever so slowly, my vision cleared enough for me to make out the girl's features.

She was remarkably attractive, boasting large cerulean eyes and dark hair tied into twin pigtails that framed her pretty face. She was slightly underfed, but still lithe and athletic. Her delicate brows were furrowed with concern. I recognized this girl. She was part of the group of people I had just saved. "There you are," she said with a small smile. "Let's get you up. Dad! Come help me!"

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Another voice called from the top of the crater I was lying in. Shifting my focus, I could tell the owner was once a fighter or body builder, though his once bulging muscles had softened with disuse. His large afro was tangled with dirt, and a heavy beard covered an unbelievably strong chin.

"He saved our lives, Dad."

"He could be one of them! You saw the things he could do!"

"He didn't have to save us!" She turned back to me. "Sorry about my dad. Times are pretty tough."

"It's no big deal," I replied weakly. "I don't want to put you in any danger."

Rolling her eyes, she called to her father again. Hesitantly, the big man slid and stumbled to the bottom of the crater. After a whispered argument that I couldn't hear, he gently lifted me into his arms. I guess he wasn't as out of shape as I had originally assumed; he was able to lift my two hundred pounds of dead weight with only a grunt of effort.

"It's going to be okay. We're taking you back home. We have some medicine," the girl assured me. "It's not too far."

"Who are you?"

"My name's Videl, and this is my father, Hercule."

My blaring alarm jolted me awake. I fumbled for the snooze button, then rolled back over to try to escape back into my dream. It'd been awhile since I'd thought of Videl. She and her father had taken care of me for almost six weeks after a particularly brutal fight with the androids. She had been my first... everything. We had been close, as close as people could get in my world. Most people, myself included, didn't let themselves get too attached to anyone or anything.

Still, I couldn't help but wonder if in another lifetime Videl and I could have had something special. Even with my hesitation to getting too close to a civilian, I'd still pondered the possibility of bringing Videl and her father to Capsule Corp. I'd never had the chance to act on those ideas.

Thinking of Videl and Hercule's ultimate fates drove any thoughts of further sleep from my mind. Instead, I flicked my bedside lamp on and padded my way to the closet. Picking out a Capsule Corp t-shirt and sweatpants, I hastily pulled them on before making my way downstairs. I'd been staying at the Capsule Corp building for a week, since the evening we made our wish. Bulma claimed she needed me here for measurements and adjustments to the prosthetic, but we hadn't even started yet. Apparently, she needed time to develop a way to work with the mysterious metal that would ultimately become my new arm. Bulma had jokingly started calling the alloy Kinium due to its ability to channel and even store ki.

"You're up early," Bulma noted as I stepped into the kitchen. She offered me a steaming mug, which predictably had the trademarked double 'C' logo on it. "Coffee?"

"Thanks," I accepted, taking a sip. "You're up early yourself."

"I had a breakthrough last night," she replied. "I think I'm ready to get your measurements. I wanted to catch you before you hid in the gravity chamber." She gave me a slightly tired grin, which I reciprocated. I was a little nervous, to be honest. I'd have to be shirtless for the measuring process, which would mean exposing Bulma to my charred stump and scarred torso. Logically, I knew it was a necessary evil, but I couldn't help but be self conscious. "Is Goku coming over today?"

"He'll be over a little later," I said, frowning slightly. She quirked her eyebrow, but didn't comment. Goku and I had been training almost every day in the gravity chamber Bulma had originally built for Vegeta. I had to admit, full contact sparring in 100x gravity was definitely an interesting experience. Goku hadn't mentioned my small outburst after he'd given me the Four Star Ball, and I wasn't going to bring it up. We'd silently come to a mutual understanding that training was good and discussing feelings was bad.

"Great!" Bulma said enthusiastically. "That means you're free!"

"Mind if I grab a bite to eat first?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"Food can wait," she dismissed with a wave of her hand. "I can't really start on the prosthetic without those measurements." After pouring her own mug full of steaming coffee, she led me down to her lab. Her work space was as clean and sterile as it had been the last time I'd seen it. "Alright, Stumpy. Shirt off and hop on the table." I hesitated. I couldn't help it. This was the first time she would see my broken body, and an irrational part of me was terrified of her reaction. Her hand on my chest pulled me from my reverie. I hadn't noticed her move in so close. "Hey. It'll be okay, I promise."

Nodding, I took a deep breath, then peeled the t-shirt off. I heard her gasp as I pulled it over my head, but I was too far gone now. After the shirt was gone, I studied her face, looking for some sign of horror or disgust, but instead I saw an entirely different emotion that I couldn't recognize. She blushed prettily when she noticed me studying her. Hesitantly, almost reverently, she traced a scar that spanned the length of my right pectoral. Her eyes asked the question that she didn't voice.

"I crashed through a skyscraper. I wasn't really in a position to protect myself with ki." She nodded, before touching a burn on my side. "Energy blast." She brushed a line of five parallel scars that started at my collar bone and ended at my abs. Her blue eyes glanced back up at my face. She was entirely too close. "Eighteen wanted to test her new manicure." Finally, she lifted a delicate finger to my face, tracing the scar over my left eye. "A particularly jagged rock," I supplied, my heart nearly beating out of my chest. Next came the moment I was most afraid of. She let her hand graze my left shoulder, right above the charbroiled stump that used to be my left arm. Thankfully, she didn't ask for any details on that particular injury, and I was in no hurry to give them. She had already reverted back to her detached, clinical persona.

"Okay, judging by the injury, I think I'm going to have to build an entire shoulder piece. There's not enough left of your arm to attach the cybernetic one, so it'll have to be connected to the torso." She looked me in the eyes. "Gohan, attaching the prosthetic is going to hurt. A lot. I'm going to have to amputate what remains of your shoulder. Normally, we'd just put you under, but I'm going to need you awake to channel ki into the new arm while we surgically attach it to make sure the connection takes."

"Wait, I won't be able to take it off once it's attached?" Most prosthetic limbs I'd heard of were detachable.

"I'm afraid not. I've been thinking about it, and you're going to need it to be as solid as possible since it'll be taking blows that 'can crush an army tank.' You don't want the androids to literally punch your arm off, do you? I'm going to attach it here," she touched the outside of my left pectoral, then traced a line all the way up to my mid trapezius muscle.

She started measuring my good arm with a tape she snagged from her desk. "You'll have a shoulder piece that will hide the connections. The arm will have four separate armored plates, one on the shoulder, one the upper arm, one protecting the elbow joint, and one on the forearm. Corded 'muscles,' for lack of a better term, will be visible beneath the plates, but it can't be helped. I thought about making the arm completely plated, but those tend to be more stiff and less responsive than the one I have planned. The entire thing will end in a plated, five-fingered hand that will be almost as dexterous as a normal one. You won't be playing any Beethoven with it, but you could write and type if you needed to. I don't know if we've ever built such an extensive cybernetic limb, but it'll be worth it. I promise. It'll move and behave just like a normal arm, if not better in some ways."

"How will I control it?"

"Now that's the tricky part that I've been working on for the last week. It's going to be controlled by a micro-computer in the shoulder that receives signals from a transmitter we're going to have to wire into your spine." She noticed my look of concern. "It's typical for these types of prosthetics, but I still had to find a way to make the entire micro-computer and transmitter out of Kinium while isolating it from the rest. Otherwise you'd just short the electronics out whenever you powered up. Don't worry, big guy. I'll figure it out."

"Well, it sounds like you have everything under control," I said, suitably impressed. "How long until the arm's ready?"

"A month? Maybe two?" I was stunned. It had taken years to make the time machine. "Sorry it won't be sooner. I'm piggy-backing on already developed technology, but I'm going to have to heavily modify our constructors to handle Kinium. After that, it's as easy as inputting the specs. I'll have to do the final assembly by hand, of course."

"Thanks, Bulma. I really appreciate you doing all this."

She lightly punched my good shoulder. "What are friends for? Besides, working with Kinium has been pretty interesting." She handed me my shirt, done with her measurements. "So, what do you think?

To be honest, I didn't know what to think. The whole thing was a lot more complicated and invasive than I had originally assumed. Amputating my shoulder? Computer chips in my spine? It was a little more than I had bargained for. However, looking in Bulma's tired, cerulean eyes, I couldn't tell bring myself to voice my doubts. She had worked for a week with barely any sleep to get this project up and running, all for a guy she barely knew. So I bit down on my concerns, forcing myself to grin. "You've really outdone yourself."

She beamed up at me, before taking a step closer. "So, Gohan, I've been meaning to ask you something..." I could tell from her blush that whatever was on her mind would be highly embarrassing.

Thankfully, I was saved by Mrs. Brief's light knock on the door. "Bulma dear, Goku is here for your little friend."

I glanced at the bluenette apologetically. She rolled her eyes, gesturing for me to leave. "Go. Have fun!"

I managed to bite back my sarcastic retort. "Fun" time with my father. Yay.

"I bet you're pretty excited!" Goku said, dodging my incoming punch before returning one of his own.

"I guess," I replied, blocking his offensive. I was looking forward to the surgery and dreading it at the same time. On the one hand, I'd get a second arm, which would be great. On the other, it wouldn't be my arm. It would be a machine attached to my body. I couldn't help but wonder what it would be like. Despite Bulma's thorough description, my stunted imagination couldn't even begin to conjure an image of her latest project.

Narrowing his eyes, Goku planted a fist into my solar plexus, leaving me gasping on the floor. I fell heavily; the room was set to three hundred times Earth's normal gravity, and each movement was a strain. "You're not focused today." I gathered myself, getting back on my feet while Goku deactivated the room's gravity. "Listen, I know you're nervous, but Bulma's the best. She knows what she's doing."

"I know." I had known Bulma for as long as he had, after all. "It's just... I've spent so long fighting mechanical monsters that I'm-" I cut myself off. I'd forgotten for a moment who I was talking to.

"Worried that you're going to become one," Goku finished. I was stunned. When had my dad learned to think further than the next meal? "It's a normal reaction, I guess, but I wouldn't worry too much."

"Why not?"

"The androids were evil because of their actions. They chose to do what they did. As long as you keep on choosing to be a good guy, then it wouldn't matter if you were one hundred percent machine."

I almost laughed. "I'm not sure it works like that. Machines are programmed."

"I was programmed to kill everyone on the planet at birth," he replied seriously. "Thanks to your great-grandfather, that didn't happen. We can rise above our natures, son. Look at Piccolo and Vegeta."

I didn't feel the need to point out that the only reason my father hadn't massacred the entire planet was because he had hit his head as an infant. He hadn't 'risen above his nature,' he'd merely forgotten his nature altogether. With a half-hearted wave, I left him standing in the training room. My head just wasn't in it today. I knew I was overreacting; that a prosthetic arm wasn't going to turn me into an evil android, but the idea wouldn't go away.

Stalking through the halls of Capsule Corp, I didn't even see the figure stepping from the bathroom before I bumped into them, sending them sprawling to the ground. Yamcha, of course. The guy was always here, even though he lived... I didn't know where he lived. Not here, I knew for certain.

"Fut- I mean, Gohan!" he shouted, rubbing the back of his neck. I stretched my arm out, giving him a hand up. "Sorry about that, I didn't even see you!"

"It was my fault. I wasn't watching where I was going," I replied easily. "So, what brings you here?"

"You know, just visiting Bulma," he said nervously. "Seeing how she's doing with the baby and all."

Sure he was. He was about as transparent as a window. I didn't see the point in calling him out on it, though. "I think she's down in the lab, modifying the constructors for my arm."

"Oh yeah! That's going to be soon, right?" I nodded. "Well, good luck." He started to retreat down the corridor, before a thought struck me.

"Hey Yamcha!" I called after him, making him turn. "What do you know about swords?"

I could tell my question had stunned him. "Uhhh... I used to use one, but we kind of left behind weapons when the Saiyans showed up, didn't we?"

"Who forged yours?" I continued, ignoring his question.

"Honestly, I don't know. I got mine off some traveling merchant back in my "Desert Bandit" days." After seeing my look of disapproval, he continued. "I bought it! Seriously!"

Damn. I still had no idea how I was going to procure the Kinium sword. The idea had been a spur of the moment question, but the more I had thought about it, the more it had taken root. Partly as a tribute to my fallen student, but also because such a blade would be immensely useful in battle. Bulma had laughed when I asked if she could make one. Apparently there were some things that not even she could 'construct.' A proper sword would have to be forged by someone experienced in their craft. I'd probably need to find a master sword smith who could work with the unusual metal.

Finding a proper blacksmith to forge my prospective weapon could be a good way to get my mind off the upcoming surgery and my doubts about the mechanical arm. I knew I was being irrational, that a mechanical arm wouldn't suddenly turn me into some heartless machine, but at the same time I couldn't help but feel concerned.

I made my decision... I couldn't just bum around here for a month while I waited on Bulma. Training could only distract me so much. Besides, starting training before the surgery was pointless. My biggest priorities in the next two years were relearning how to fight with two arms, adjusting to the prosthetic, as well as learning how to effectively use the kinium sword in battle. None of those things could be done now, except for finding someone to forge the weapon. Yamcha may have as useful as a dead slug, surprise, surprise, but I wasn't out of leads yet. No, there was a certain perverted old man who may know a sword smith.

I didn't expect Bulma to react so strongly to my impending departure.

"You're leaving?" she asked, her bright blue eyes looking up at me. Was that... disappointment in her eyes?

"I want to find someone to forge the sword," I say, in way of explanation. "It's... important to me. Tru-... My former student..." I trailed off, unable to finish my thought. She may have been a completely different woman than the Bulma I knew from the future, but it was still... awkward... talking about the future at all with her, much less her unborn son.

She nodded. "I get that, but what's the harm in waiting a few weeks till I finish your new arm?"

I shrugged, sipping my coffee. "I guess it'll also help me get my mind off of... everything. I'm not used to so much down time." It was true. Back in my world, there was always something to do. Gathering supplies, helping refugees, fighting for my life... at least I can say that the future wasn't boring.

"Down time? You hardly do anything besides train. You remind me of Vegeta." Apparently this was supposed to be a joke, because she started giggling wildly. "I know! Let's go hit the town, just you and me! It'll be fun!"

She seemed so excited at the prospect, bouncing up and down and clasping her hands together, I just couldn't say no. After a long moment of internal debate, I gave her a small nod. Sure, it sounded like a day of living hell; I'd never been good with crowds. On the other hand, she was sacrificing a lot of her time to help me, and had sacrificed even more than that in the future. I owed her a nice day out on the town.

"Really?" She looked surprised. Did she honestly think I'd deny her anything, after eating her food, taking up her valuable time, and sleeping in one of her spare rooms? Then again, she was used to Vegeta... That seemed exactly the type of thing Vegeta would do. I simply nodded and offered a small smile. Her enthusiasm was a little contagious.

The bright smile she beamed my way made whatever horrible things she had planned completely and utterly worth it. "Well... get dressed! I know! We'll go to Funland!"

I didn't have the heart to tell her that I had nothing but bad memories about that particular amusement park. The last time I'd gone there with a pretty, blue eyed girl... things hadn't ended so well. I just watched her jovially bounce away, humming a small tune to herself before making my way upstairs to hit the shower.

"Here it is, home sweet home," Videl said as she led our little group inside. Hercule was careful not to bump my head against the door frame. From my vantage point in the big man's arms, I could see a cramped, slightly damaged basement, lit by a small window on the far side. A pair of beds were shoved up against one wall, a small dining room table sat next to an impromptu kitchen, though it would be difficult to call the area a kitchen. All it had was a portable gas stove, a microwave and stacks of canned foods. A lumpy couch and love seat filled the rest of the room, its fabric frayed and slightly stained.

Hercule heaved me onto the couch, while Videl started lighting candles. She pulled the curtains on the small window as she passed, probably so that their dim candlelight wouldn't bring any untoward attention of the mechanical kind. It was unlikely that they'd be back so soon, but one could never tell with the androids. They didn't think like normal people did.

Videl started rummaging through a large chest, pulling out all kinds of bottles and bandages. I would later learn that the basement was beneath an old pharmacy. "Dad, does he have any burns?"

The large, bearded man gave me a quick once over before turning back to his daughter. "Uhhh... I don't see any."

Videl bustled over, her arms overflowing with medical supplies. "Alright, Gohan, first thing we're going to have to do is set your broken leg. This is going to hurt," she said, her blue eyes gazing at me apologetically. She placed her hands on my broken femur, and I found it impossible to break away from her gaze. "We'll do it in three... two... one..."

She was right. It hurt. A lot.