Chapter Text
Goku Black lurked outside the balcony window. Night had fallen and the room inside was dimly lit. Yet his heightened sight could easily make out the form of the unofficial queen of Fire Mountain, seated in front of the fireplace, brooding over her most recent loss.
He had been watching her all day. Observed from afar as she led the funeral possession, accepted condolences from subjects and servants alike. She endured it all, standing like a statue in her black dress, her face pale and expressionless.
Now her servants were gone. She was completely alone.
The perfect time to strike.
He wasn’t sure what he was going to do just yet. He already killed her in one universe. This time was different. She already longed for death. If he killed her now, he’d just be putting her out of her misery, and where was the fun in that?
Smiling sinisterly to himself, he placed two fingers to his forehead and teleported inside.
***
Finally, the funeral was over.
Chi-Chi sat on the sofa, clutching a glass of wine as she stared off into space. She knew shouldn’t drink when she barely ate anything all day, but she was far past caring.
Her father was gone. He was all she had left, and now he was gone.
The years of the Androids had taken their toll on his health, though he still tried to hold it together, both for her and the kingdom. It seemed unfair that his heart gave out just when the world was finally free.
Still, his last days were peaceful. And she had gotten to say goodbye. It was more than she got from Gohan.
Or Goku.
Her throat clenched. She sipped the wine, grimaced at the bitter taste.
At least the funeral had gone well, other than having to grit her teeth and endure all the pitying looks and cloying condolences. “I’m sorry for your loss.” If she never had to hear those words again, it would be too soon.
Out of all Goku and Gohan’s friends, only Master Roshi and Fortuneteller Baba had attended. Both had kept their distance with a respectful nod, for which she was grateful. She caught herself wondering if anyone else would come…and then she remembered with a jolt that they were all dead.
Except for Bulma and Trunks. Trunks hadn’t known her father that well, and Bulma…well, she knew better than to come.
It wasn’t Bulma’s fault, she could hear her father tell her. She couldn’t have stopped Gohan. She’s suffered too.
I don’t care, she answered him bitterly in her head.
She didn’t hate Trunks. He was a nice boy. He couldn’t help who is parents were. He was the one who killed the Androids and avenged Gohan. On top of that, he went out of his way to come see her at Fire Mountain to tell her about how he went back in time. Thanks to him, she knew another timeline existed. One where Gohan was alive and they were still a family…
Though it was cold comfort, knowing she was trapped in this universe.
With another sip of wine, she gazed indifferently at surroundings. The room was so large that her old house on Mount Pouzu would barely take up half of the space. Everything from the four-poster bed draped in silk to the gilded furniture was a testament to the utmost luxury. Nothing at all like the simplicity of her old home.
She hated it.
She didn’t want to be queen. But it was her father’s last request: “Take care of our kingdom. Rule well and be happy. Goku and Gohan would’ve wanted that.”
There was nothing left for her on Mount Pouzu. The kingdom needed a strong leader to help it recover after all the years of terror. For the people’s sake, she had to hold her head up and march on. It was what her father did after her mother died.
Except he at least had his daughter. Who did she have? Just servants and advisers. As kind as they were, it wasn’t the same.
Tears filled her eyes. She forced them back. A queen couldn’t afford to cry, not even when she was alone.
The rest of her life stretched before her. Endless days signing laws, formal events, and forced smiles. Coming back every night to a dark empty room with no family, listening to the evening clock tick away, wondering how much longer she’d have to keep living…
Why couldn’t the Androids just kill me too?
After Gohan died, dark thoughts came all the time. It was easier to fight them off when her father was still alive, unwilling to put him through more grief. But now that he was gone, it was getting harder.
She sighed. Enough self-pity for one night. It was late, and it had been a long day. She needed to get to bed.
Her head spun slightly as she stood up. Wine on an empty stomach had been a bad idea.
The floor creaked.
Assuming the maid popped back in, she glanced at the chamber door, only to find it closed.
Then came another creak, followed by footsteps drawing near. She whirled around just in time to see a shadow flit across the room.
Someone’s here.
Terror coursed through her body. How could an intruder break in? The windows were sealed shut and guards were everywhere.
Quickly, she grabbed her glass and readied to throw it. “Who’s there?” she demanded, keeping her voice low and calm.
The shadow moved again, deliberately darting past where she stood, moving so fast that all she could see was a blur. Taunting her with how close it was.
Goosebumps pricked down the back of her neck, yet she stood her ground. “I do not need this tonight,” she growled. “Show yourself!”
The form advanced on her. She drew back her arm and prepared to strike…
Until the firelight illuminated the face of a man with wild black hair that stood out in all directions.
The glass slipped from her fingers, spilling wine over the plush carpet.
It can’t be…
Her dead husband stood before her, clothed in gray and black.
She couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe. What little strength she had drained out of her body.
“G-Goku?” she choked out.
Her knees buckled and everything went black.
***
Goku Black caught the fainting woman by the waist. He held her upright, cocking his head to the side as he studied her face.
Despite her age, she was quite fetching. For a mortal.
The version from the other universe had some strength, although of course it was no match for him. He could sense that same strength in her—weakened and corroded by years of unuse, but still unmistakably there.
It intrigued him. As did the darkness that he could sense growing in her heart.
Project Zero Mortals could always use another recruit…
He carried her to the four-poster bed and placed her on top of the silken sheets. On a sudden whim, he undid her neatly tied bun, letting her hair spill out. He brushed the tendrils away from her pale face.
Yes, this body had definite potential. A little houseworn, perhaps, but that could be easily fixed.
He could take her now…but she wasn’t quite broken yet. Besides, the fear in her eyes had been intoxicating, and he wanted more of it.
She started to come around and moan. He pressed his thumb to her pressure point and sent her back to unconsciousness. “Sleep well, Princess,” he hissed mockingly in her ear.
With a final smirk, he closed the gossamer curtains around the bed, and disappeared into the night.
He had time to spare before Project Zero Mortals…and tormenting her would be just the amusement he needed.