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Remember the night

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It was bittersweet, or just plain ironic that Goku rummaged through the same closet for his wedding clothes that she had for the dress that she wore to his funeral years before.


“The plain white one.” Chi Chi instructed him firmly.


He cast her a wide eyed look over his shoulder. “But I thought you wanted us to look fancy.”


It was true. She did want them to look fancy.


Chi Chi looked uncharacteristically soft in a lavender colored dress with her hair in s formal braid that cascaded down her back. She sat straight-backed and regal in front of the vanity, and it was a matter of seconds that she fumbled with a pearl necklace around her neck, reaching with both hands to remove it when her eyes caught his.


It was a strangely intimate moment, even if it only lasted for a fraction of a second before he brow furrowed at him in the mirror.


“Are you going to actually look?”


The white button up shirt. Right. Goku snapped his attention back to the task at hand, not questioning her taste in fanciness, or daring to tell her couldn't find the shirt she wanted him to wear.



“What's that?” Goten chirped, watching his best friend approached him in the vacant kitchen with a glass bottle in hand.


Trunks smirked fiendishly. “What does it look like?”


Goten shrugged, eyeing the bottle cautiously. He hated when Trunks made him feel stupid, but there were so many things at Capsule Corp that Trunks saw every day and he didn't.


“I don't know.” Goten scratched his chin absentmindedly, wracking his brain. The only glass bottles he'd seen were beer bottles, and he knew what beer was.


On second thought, he had seen bottles similar to that before, when his mom pulled a bowl shaped glass from the very top shelf of the cupboard and ushered him to bed and when his dad came back, to his bath. He found that ritual very confusing, because he knew his mom wanted to drink the contents of the bottle by herself in the kitchen when night came.


Trunks scoffed at him and shook his head, holding the bottle in two hands as he studied the label.


“Is it an adult beverage?” Goten wondered aloud, successfully jogging his memory of his mom's mysterious night time ritual.


“Yeah, it's called champagne.”


“Is that like beer?”


“Sorta. My mom always drinks it at her fancy parties. It's supposed to be really good.”


“What happens if kids drink it?” Goten questioned, his brow furrowed with concern. Trunks fumbled with the foil on the top in his hands, clearly unsure of how to open the bottle.


“Don't be such a baby Goten, nothing's gonna happen.” Trunks rolled his eyes.


Goten cast a nervous look over his shoulder. He was supposed to be helping his mom set up for the wedding, but she and Bulma kept talking to other adults, ignoring his pleas for attention. They sat on the kitchen floor of a large manor, crosslegged and facing one another.


The hum outside in the lobby was getting louder as more people arrived, and he'd rather not have to act quiet around all those adults out there the way his mom wanted him to.


“Are you sure you know how to open it?” Goten asked nervously.


“I've seen my mom do it before hundreds of times.” Trunks dismissed him, though he was visibly getting frustrated with the coiled wires that topped the cork.


“Just give me a minute!”


Goten looked up as a familiar face wandered into the kitchen.


“Oh hey Goten, you know where the bathroom is in this place?” Yamcha wandered into the room, hands loosely in his suit pockets.


An audible pop! sounded, and Yamcha and Goten both snapped attention to Trunks, guiltily clutching the bottle of champagne and in the alarm of getting caught red-handed, tossed it at Yamcha, causing glass to shatter and bubbling liquid to soak the man.


Goten jumped up. He knew this was a bad idea, and Trunk was already gone.


“Gotta go!” He shrieked, leaving Yamcha stunned at the mess on the checkered floor of the kitchen that littered all over his suit.



Chi Chi eased the door closed and the sight before her nearly took her breath away.


She'd always known Videl was a beautiful girl, sure. But she carried herself with such a tomboyish air that Chi Chi had never really noticed how lovely she really was.


She swallowed back a lump in her throat as the emotions surfaced in a single second, making her realize how much love Gohan would pour into this woman, the way he did with her. This Videl would cook his meals and wash his clothes, she'd have his children and be the first one to see his in the mornings and the last one to see him at night.


And she was stunning. It was a lot to take in. She sat in front of a vanity the way that Chi Chi had earlier that day.


“Chi Chi?” Videl's eyes widened when she saw the older woman, “Is everything alright?”


It must've been odd to see her, Chi Chi thought. Since their rocky start they'd only exchanged pleasantries several times, outside of the weekly family dinner night that she'd dragged Gohan into committing to, which consisted mainly of the boys bickering over their share of food while she traveled back and forth from the kitchen to accommodate them, leaving Videl at the dining table to fend for herself.


She didn't anticipate this look of alarm.


“Everything's fine,” Chi Chi raised a manicured hand as if to wave off Videl's sense of unease. “I just came to see you.”


Videl blinked, unsure of what to say.


“I...” Chi Chi paused, hesitating and pursing her lips before speaking again. Years of being consumed by Goku's habits, and before that her father's had rendered her disabled in the emotional department, she was aware.


She cleared her throat. “I missed my mother very much on my wedding day. So I thought that though I could never replace your mother, we can hang out for a little bit before the ceremony?”


The inflection in her tone carried like a question, Chi Chi's way of insinuating that it was Videl's choice whether she stuck around or not, though they both knew Chi Chi would stay as long as she wanted to.


“Sure.” Videl motioned to a chair beside her.


Chi Chi took several steps towards her and hesitated, eyeing the silver bar cart on the opposite end of the room. She paused, mentally calculating the repercussions of what she was considering. She approached, feeling Videl's eyes watch her in shock. Several empty champagne bottles littered the top, leaving sticky bubbly puddles across the surface. Damn bridesmaids. There was red wine- no, that could stain her teeth in the pictures, and was also a risk with Videl's white dress. She went with the white.


“Gohan told me you didn't drink.” Videl observed in disbelief, incredulous as Chi Chi uncorked a fresh bottle with dexterous ease and a corkscrew.


“Only on special occasions.” Chi Chi shrugged, knowing how shocking this must all be to her now, “And every night after he went to bed.”


“Ah,” Videl smiled, accepting a glass from her gratefully. She sipped only when she saw Chi Chi doing do, a hint of suspicion glinting in her pale blue eyes. “I can only imagine. Gohan must've been a real handful.”


“He wasn't. His father was.”


Videl laughed, bringing her knuckles to her mouth to keep the wine from spurting from her mouth there. Chi Chi hadn't intended for that to be a joke, so her lips were as straight as could be.


Videl nodded in silent amusement. The poor girl had already been subjected to the chaos that was her household from the get go; Chi Chi could recall a certain night when Goku returned that ended with him destroying the bath in the backyard, and chasing Goten and Trunks stark naked as Chi Chi bellowed at him to stop.


She supposed if Videl could stomach that she was a keeper.


“Thanks for coming here.” Videl sighed, looking visibly looser from the little wine that she's had.


“It's my pleasure,” Chi Chi replied, taking another sip before adding, “To be honest I wanted to give you something.”


Videl watched her pensively and as she reached into her clutch and pulled out the string of pearls. Her pale, thin fingers were shorter than Chi Chi's and she reached out to accept the string in a single grasp. Videl eyed them in one hand, the glass of wine in the other, rolling them in her palm in admiration with her thumb.


“That was the first gift my father gave my mother.” Chi Chi told her, her eyes boring into the younger girl's seriously. “I was going to wear it today, but I wanted you to have it instead.”


“Thank you.” Videl murmured, clearly unsure of what to say. Chi Chi was satisfied that she understood the gift for what it was; a girl raised in so much luxury and material goods like Videl didn't understand what it was to grow up around heirlooms, unless they were modeled after her father and purchased within the last decade.


“Are you sure you want me to have it?”


Chi Chi nodded. “Don't feel like you have to wear it or anything. I just never had a daughter to give it to, so you can give it to yours instead.”


Videl accepted it, turning to set it on the vanity beside her.


Erasa burst through the double doors of the room at that point, pleased that the bride had been helping herself to wine and urged her to guzzle it and assemble in the hall downstairs immediately. To which Videl obeyed, but not without stealing a reassuring squeeze from Chi Chi's outreaching hand.



“S'cuse me.”


“Yamcha, seriously?” Bulma leaned forward to snatch her purse out of the way for his feet to step on.


“There's nowhere else to sit on this side.” Yamcha muttered, shoving past her and doing his best to avoid brushing the knees of a Vegeta who was already irritated simply for being present.


“Then you could've just sat on the other side.” Bulma snapped, smoothing the hem of her dress back towards her knee from where it had ridden up her thigh from how she had to swing her legs toward her husband to accommodate Yamcha.


“The bride's side? But we're with the groom.” Yamcha hissed, suddenly aware of all the attention they were getting when the ceremony was about to start.


“No one actually cares about that! What do you think they'll do, kick you out?” Bulma quipped, leaning over Vegeta to do so, who sat with his arms crossed, which was very uncomfortable in a suit under the heat of an afternoon sun in midsummer.


“No way, I'm not sitting with those people!”


Bulma rolled her eyes.


“There's actually a seat open behind us, Yamcha.” Puar piped, motioning to the seat in the next row.


“And sit behind Vegeta? No thanks, I want to actually be able to see Gohan get married.” Yamcha replied, exasperated with all the fuss that was being made over him, when all he wanted to do was sit down.


His eyes wandered to the silent light haired boy sitting at the opposite side of Bulma. Trunks was normally full of crass remarks like his parents, but now he was as stiff as a statue, as if hoping to blend in with his surroundings in an attempt to quiet Yamcha about the events that took place earlier that day. It was Trunks' fault that he was late to sit in the first place- he'd just spent the last hour in the bathroom, washing the champagne from his clothing as best he could.


Bulma's next comment put him over the edge.


“By the way, you reek of alcohol! You couldn't wait until after the ceremony?”


“By the way-” Yamcha erupted, and the sudden change of music that signaled the start of the procession and Gohan flashed them a a startled look by where he stood at the altar, “You really need to start talking to your kid about drugs and alcho-”


“Shut up.” Vegeta snarled, and the two fell silent.



Videl took her father's arm and blinked back tears. She appreciated Chi Chi's gesture- the string of pearls on the vanity in her dressing room, though it brought some bottled emotions to the surface.


“I missed my mother very much on my wedding day. So I thought that though I could never replace your mother, we can hang out for a little bit before the ceremony?”


She'd grown accustomed to her mother's absence in her life, through shallow and judgmental feelings towards the much younger women that her father kept company with. So when Chi Chi said those words it resonated with her.


Marrying Gohan meant being a part of something much bigger, something she couldn't quite fully understand at this point: he was the boy who killed Cell, and his father was born on another planet. His mother purchased him a “learn in your sleep” system as a child so that he could keep up with his studies in between training and traveling to another planet. She could go on and on.


And she thought her upbringing was crazy.


The thought made her smile, and she clutched her father as she faced Gohan down the aisle, her heart willing her eyes to blur out the crowd of people at either side.


She had him figured out from day one, and now he was hers.



“Alright.” Chi Chi commanded the attention of her boys and Piccolo immediately following the procession. “Videl, you look perfect the way you are, but the rest of you move in closer.”


Piccolo spared the camera a smile while Goten jumped over Videl from behind, just in time to be captured by the closing of the shutter.


“Good, Mom?” Gohan asked, a little un easy at the crowd beginning to assemble.


Chi Chi pulled the camera from her face and squinted at the digital screen.


“No good,” She shook her head. “Piccolo, your eyes are closed. One more time you guys, and get it right!”



It was too early in the evening to be so tipsy, Eighteen knew this, but when she found herself somehow sitting in between Krillin and Oolong, and that other loudmouth with the floating cat who came stumbling out of the manor with a flask and a bridesmaid, she turned over her shoulder to signal over a wandering serviceperson for a refill.


“Here you are, madam.” The woman was dressed in black with a tight plait tucked inside itself, and Eighteen offhandedly noted that rich people probably had parties like this with servers all the time, because alcohol would be the only way they could tolerate one another without tarnishing the connections in their network.


A loud crash sounded in the next table over and the laughter from her table fell silent. Goku held a beer in one hand and a fist elbow deep in the table next to them looking both gleeful and guilty. A shrill shriek from Chi Chi caused the laughter to erupt on their table again.


“Oh man,” Krillin mustered between chuckles, “Who's been serving Goku drinks?”


Eighteen watched as a drunken Goku had his drink snatched away by his wife, under the view of wide eyed onlookers who gathered there. They looked to be Satan City's elite, and were casually brushed away by Mr. Satan in a blue tuxedo.


“Nothing to see here, folks,” The man boomed, “I uh, got a little too excited and punched his fist right into the table! Luckily we're family now so we can mess around that way!” He punched Goku on the elbow, as if to notify him that he was in the clear of a situation that he knew nothing about.


“Goku, get your hand out of the table! It's our son's wedding!” Chi Chi was relentless.


The band picked up tempo and Dr. Briefs took to liberty to pull his wife to the floor. She stumbled and laughed, nearly pulling him down with her.


“Man, can you imagine Goku on drugs?” Yamcha mused, still laughing at his friend's predicament as he unscrewed the lid of the flask.


“Pretty sure no one's offered him any.” Krillin laughed, but there was a cautionary tone to his voice. He accepted the flask from Yamcha and they took turns pouring the mystery contents in their glasses. Eighteen hesitated and then followed suit, because, well, she didn't want to be sober with both Yamcha and Oolong at the table.




Bulma waved him over from her seat.


“Bulma! I'm so glad you came.” He embraced her fully, lingering for a moment while she patted the top of his back through the hug.


“Look at you.” She flashed a smile at him when they pulled back, instinctively reaching out to fix the wilting corsage on his lapel. “You clean up good. Where's the bride?”


“Uh, not sure to be honest.” Gohan scanned the grounds of the tent, “She's here somewhere.”


“Well when you see her, tell her I said this party is fabulous. It's making me regret not throwing something like this when Vegeta and I tied the knot.” Bulma gestured to the brilliant lanterns that illuminated the white fabric of the wedding tent, reflecting off the twinkling lights of the centerpieces on the table: everything was perfect.


“Uh, thanks. We really didn't have much of a say, a lot of it was her family and my mom-” He shook off the sentence when he noted that Bulma didn't care who was responsible, because she was at a nice party that she liked.


“You could've done this with Vegeta! You still can.”


The last few words sounded silly. This was the exact sort of thing that Vegeta would hate more than anything. Bulma snorted at his words too. “I thought about it, but the whole big wedding party wouldn't have been the same.”


Gohan raised his brow at her, unsure of what she was getting at.


“I mean, we'd be kidding ourselves with the white dress thing, like are you kidding me? We already had a kid together and he was living in my house. At that point the jig is up, you know?”


Gohan spotted his father, who was carrying a Chi Chi-approved portion from the catering table back to his seat.


“You and Videl on the other hand, you must have a big night ahead of you.” Bulma winked, unable to help herself.


Gohan's cheeks burned.


“Hey guys!” Goku stopped in front of them now. “What're you talking about? This place is so loud I can't hear!”


There you are!”


Goku instinctively flinched at the tone of Chi Chi's voice, though she hadn't necessarily meant to sound threatening with it. She was dragging a reluctant Piccolo in tow.


“Alright stand right there!” She pulled him beside Goku and Gohan and pulled out a camera from the bag.


“Okay on a count of three... one... two...” She paused, pulling her face from the camera in what was a purse lipped frown. “Goodness, can you three act like you like each other? You look like you're lined up for a firing squad!


The three did like each other, but Chi Chi was making them feel uneasy in her critical assessment of their display of affection of one another, so Goku took it upon himself to put an arm around them both, ignoring a sideways glance from Piccolo and stifling a flinch when Goten approached with a disposable camera that he collected from one of the tables, snapping pictures of ants invading a stray crumb of cake on the ground nearby, warrant a sharp “Goten! Those cameras are provided for the wedding!” from his mother


Trunks froze at the sound of Chi Chi's voice. Goten's mom was scarier than his mom sometimes, but at least his house was a lot bigger so he could avoid her better.



Launch walked shakingly from the bathroom stall to the powder room, eyeing herself in the mirror.


Oh no. Was she at one of those sketchy parties again?


She jumped at the opening of the door, only to find a bride emerging from behind the door.


“Are you alright?” The bride asked her.


Was she alright? Well she wasn't sure, so she shrugged and the bride eyed her inquisitively for a moment, watching her from a stern sideways stare as she was pretending to check her own makeup in her reflection.


“Everything's fine!” Launch told her cheerfully.


She was at a wedding that she didn't know about, in a dress that was way too small for her liking, that was all.


The bride let herself out, giving Launch a look that made her uncomfortable.



Eighteen nudged Krillin, endeared by the sight of their daughter being led by Goten around the dance floor in her pink shoes, with so much enthusiasm that the adults who bumped into them merely laughed in amusement.


“Looks pretty serious.” Krillin grinned. “Should we let Goku know?”


Eighteen rolled her eyes and laughed. “I don't know. Let's wait until they share an income. If she's anything like me that could be a test of a relationship.”


The little blonde girl hopped with Goten, her chubby legs bursted at every beat in the tempo. It was nice, Eighteen noted, and she could understand why people got so sentimental at weddings, because of moments like this.



Inside the manor, Videl was caught outside the bathroom by the mayor and his wife. Nature was calling earlier, so she was forced to break away from her comfort zone at Gohan's side, and now she was caught in a political sideshow that was way over her head.


“There's been a lot of turmoil since the last election,” The mayor was telling her, his wife doing her wifely duty in nodding in silent agreement with him, urging Videl to remain engaged, whether it was her wedding day or not.


“...And the boys on the force really miss you, Videl. I know you've been busy with school and erm, the wedding and all, but if you could just make a one time appearance again with the press there, it'd really make things easier on my end-”


The coat closet opened to the wife's right, the door swinging open so abruptly that it in fact smacked her in the side with a thud!


The wife gasped, spilling her glass all over the royal blue front of her ballgown, and the mayor pulled her out of the way of the door, holding her in his clutch protectively.


Roshi emerged with a girl Videl didn't recognize, both red-cheeked in varying states of disarray. Videl watched open mouthed as they excused themselves and ran laughing past them to the tent outdoors. Roshi cackled in a way that Videl would never be able to erase from memory with wine or sleep.


The shock of it all gave her a good moment to excuse herself. Whatever Roshi was doing with that girl in the coat closet, she was grateful for it.



Yamcha refilled his flask for the third time that night. The girl at his side was pretty, though he could hardly think of her name.


He was never good with names. He was never good with women in general, until her.


Bulma had made the rounds throughout the evening, but she now looked awfully cozy next to Vegeta.


Which was good, he told himself. He took another swig. If Bulma wasn't with Vegeta she'd undoubtedly still be with him, and the whole second half of their relationship he only wanted to be with anyone else, but her.


Still, to this day she remembered his every birthday and the anniversary that he started playing with his team. She never neglected him an invitation to her home that she didn't extend to anyone else. She was the best gift giver: the kind of person who could pull a single off-hand comment that a person made in conversation from her brain and utilize it to find them a gift that was thoughtful and unique.


She was special. He wasn't sure how that made him feel, other than grateful for their friendship.


Fireworks were going off now, and her hotshot husband looked incredibly bored while Bulma leaned into him from the side, talking into his ear about how happy she was that he came, or about all the things they'd do when they got home to make up for his time.




He wasn't going to think about that.


The bridesmaid pulled on his jacket sleeve.


“I'm bored now.” She told him.




“Wanna get out of here?”


She nodded, her blonde hair falling in loose tendrils around her face. “I have a room here, if you want.”


Did he ever. She pulled him up from his seat, while he was still wracking his brain for her name, only narrowly remembering she mention that she was a cousin of Videl's. Tien called a mocking comment his way from the table behind them, and Krillin joined in. The commotion caught Bulma's attention, causing her to turn her head around her bare shoulder, offering a small wave to say 'good night'.


He waved back.


“Gohan says we could've pulled something like this off ourselves.” Bulma teased her husband.




“He said it's not too late, and I think that Trunks is still young enough that he might actually enjoy it too.”


They both watched their son up ahead, in front of the fireworks-watching crowd with Goten. The boys sat side by side, pointing in awe at the brilliant sparks that lit up the night sky.


Bulma loved seeing him like that, when he was the little boy that he ought to be, because sometimes her thoughts would wander to the older Trunks she'd met years ago, and she worried for him.


“If you really want to, we can do it.”


Bulma's mouth dropped. She couldn't believe what she was hearing.


“Vegeta, you're not serious. You would hate that.”


“Isn't that what these earth marriages are supposed to be like?” Vegeta scoffed, “Doing things you hate to please your mate?”


He jerked his chin in Goku's direction, who was currently fidgeting in his suit at a table by himself, visibly uncomfortable in it's confines while struggling to adjust it without doing any visible damage.


Bulma laughed. “It's called compromise. And that's supposed to go both ways.”


“I see. I suppose I'm overdue for my share.”


Bulma wrinkled her brow in disapproval. “What do you mean by that? You do things I hate all the time.”


He raised a brow. “Such as?”


Her hand clutched his arm for emphasis. Somewhere up ahead, Goku approached Goten and Trunks from behind, scaring them under the light and noise of a particularly brilliant blast of white sparks that shattered around the crowd like a great umbrella.


“I hate when you spend hours training because you know I had plans that evening that I wanted you to be a part of. I hate that you train our son to be a part of a world that I could never understand. And most of all,” She leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the side of his jaw and Trunks screamed in delight as he tackled Goku from behind.


“I hate it all those nights that you don't come to bed with me.”


Vegeta returned her gaze for the first time that evening.


“That bothers you that much.” His voice was gruff and ever so soft.


Bulma nodded, not relinquishing her grip on his arm.


“So I guess we're having a wedding now.” He added suspiciously.


“No, No.” She shook her head. “I could never do that to you. I'm not sick in the head! I'd rather go on a family vacation or something, just the three of us.”


“A family vacation?” He rolled the phrase off his tongue skeptically.


“Now don't fuss,” Bulma warned. “How many times have I dragged you out to the dance floor tonight?”




“Exactly.” She nudged his elbow with her own and flashed him a smile. “See? Compromise.”





Goku found her on the rooftop, when the crowd had thinned so much from the fireworks show that only several couples remained, saying things softly for his sensitive ears to pick up on, making him realize that people actually did talk they way they did in the movies that Bulma loved.


“Goku?” Chi Chi noticed him too. She sat by herself on a stone bench beside the stony neck of the manor's chimney, her shawl wrapped tightly around her shoulders.


He waved, walking over to sit beside her. Everyone seemed so happy and he was having so much fun, but in reality he longed to go home with her and Goten now.


Chi Chi looked up at him, smiling tearfully. “We did it.” She said, and his heart melted when he put an arm around her and she leaned into him. “He's all grown up now.”


“He's still ours.” He reassured her.


“I know.”


They sat in silence for a moment, and Chi Chi shuddered from the chill of the summer night's breeze, and he used that as justification to rub his hand over the goosebumps on her arm. The truth was, he loved touching her, when she indulged him enough to allow it freely. Her skin was smooth and she felt nice.


“I just still can't believe how fast he grew. Even when he was little he was so grown up.”


Chi Chi nodded. “I hated that.”


Goku chuckled, pulling her against him so that the top of her head was tucked under his chin.


“I know you did.” He murmured against the crown of his head.


Chi Chi continued, riding out the wave of emotion the way she always did when she got this way. “Kami, he was so young when he went to Namek. And when he found out I was pregnant with Goten I swear he'd read every book he could find on childbirth and he watched over me like a hawk. Twelve year old boys aren't supposed to think like that.”


Goku said nothing, knowing that Gohan became who he was in light of the absence of a father.


“We still have Goten.” He reminded her.


Chi Chi laughed, wiping a tear away with her shawl. “Can you make sure he doesn't ever grow up?”


Goku grinned at the thought. Their youngest had a reputation of being lovable. Teenage girls especially seemed to gravitate to him, fawning over his cuteness with a tenacity that he was still too young to appreciate, making endless offers to babysit.


“I'll do my best.” Goku assured her.


Chi Chi burrowed her face into his chest so that her cheek felt cool above the top button of his shirt that she'd insisted he wear that day or not show up at all. He would've asked to take her home right then, but this was Gohan's wedding day.


Chi Chi sighed, and Goku wasn't quite sure what stage she was at in her introspection.


“You boys will be the death of me.”


She might've been right. And it'd probably be a while before he could bring her home with him to do the things he wanted with her, but for now, he lifted her chin delicately so that she looked at him inquisitively, before he gently lowered his lips to hers.


She indulged him sweetly, startled to mumble something unintelligible against his lips until she shut down in his kiss the way she usually did.


They'd come a long way since their own wedding, and it wasn't until tonight when Goku realized the life they'd had because of it. Later that night he did have Chi Chi the way that he wanted her, with that lavender dress cast aside and her braid undone. She was the constant dream he dreamt when he was scattered across the universe, and across the realm of the living and the dead. She raised his children and kept them all well fed.


And that was something to celebrate.



Gohan stumbled into the hotel suite with his new bride, eyes running her over in the brilliant light of the great windows of the room.


Videl giggled on the bed, drawing her knees to her chest in an unladylike fashion as she watched him fumble with the top of the champagne in the room, granted to them courtesy of the hotel staff.


“To be fair,” Gohan told her, eyeing her gleefully over the rims of his glasses, “I wasn't really raised in a drinking household.”


Videl lay back on the bed, covering her eyes and remembering Chi Chi's words for her earlier that day.


“That's what you think.”