"All right, class! Today we move into the final portion of World War Two: the Holocaust." The teacher announced when everyone took their seats.

It was the most horrifying lesson that Gohan ever attended; for six hours he heard and saw the terrible things that the Nazi's did to the Jews and other "non-Aryans" during the Holocaust. Testimonies of SS officers and concentration camp survivors, official documents and personal correspondence, and picture after picture of the dead and the living (which were probably worse off than the dead) ran through Gohan's head. He left the class in such a daze that Videl, who usually didn't even pay any attention to him, was concerned.
"Are you all right, Gohan?" she asked.
"Fine." Gohan lied.
In reality, he was terribly confused. He could not understand how over six million people were killed as a result of people's hatred and ignorance. He could not imagine why they were singled out because of a simple difference of opinion. He could not comprehend why nearly no one spoke up against it or so few people tried to stop the atrocities.

And then Gohan remembered Radditz. How he saw humans as "weaklings" and "inferior". How he tried to make his brother eliminate them. How he insisted that his way, and no one else's, was right.

Gohan also thought about Vegita. How he refused to call Goku by his "earth" name. How he considered Goku a "low-class" warrior. How he had killed Nappa for failing to defeat "Kakarrotto". How he chose to endanger the entire earth for his love of fighting. How he killed countless beings with no remorse.

Maybe it was because he was in deep thought; maybe it was fate. But for whatever reason, Gohan wandered into the "bad" side of Satan City.

"Nigger!" Gohan turned his head; not far away he could hear a brutal beating take place. He dashed in the sounds' direction and discovered five men in the middle of kicking, punching, and otherwise thrashing a black man. They also cursed him with each blow.
"How do you like that?" Taunted one man, who knocked the victim down when he tried to get up. "Eh?"
Something snapped inside of Gohan; he was not about to stand aside while this man was being treated like this. He stepped out of the shadows.
"Leave him alone," he ordered darkly. The men stopped briefly, looked at him, and laughed.
"Mind your own business, you stupid slant-eye." The biggest of the five said to him.
"I said, leave him alone." Gohan repeated ominously. The men laughed again.
"Who's gonna stop us," another taunted. "You?"
"Get outta here, chink!"
"Leave!"
"Vamoose!" The men and their taunts surrounded Gohan at all sides.
"Don't make me angry," he warned.
"Oooh, I'm scared," the big man jeered. "What are you gonna do, throw a hissy fit?"
"I'm warning you..." Gohan narrowed his eyes. The big man stopped laughing.
"All right, enough jokes. You're ruining our fun, and I don't like that." He curled his hand into a fist and swung at Gohan's face.

Gohan didn't even blink.

The man's eyes widened in shock as the pain ran down his arm. It felt as if he had hit a concrete wall.
Gohan took the man's fist from his face and shoved him away.
The man went flying into a building.
Gohan turned to glare at the others. They had been backing away slowly, but turned to run for their lives when they saw him watching.
Gohan ran to the man and kneeled next to him. The man, severely bruised, was bleeding profusely and barely breathing.
"Sir?" The man stirred slightly and tried to move. "Please don't move, sir. You've been hurt."
"Sir..." the man murmured. "No one has called me that in a long time." He shuddered as more blood spilled out of his mouth.
"Hang on, sir," Gohan pleaded. "I'm going to get help." He tried to leave, but the man stopped him.
"It's useless, son. I'm gonna be long gone by the time help gets here." The man winced against another wave of pain. Gohan tried his best to make the man comfortable, to no avail.
"Why did those men hurt you?" He asked, more confused and angry than ever.
"Because...of the color of my skin," the man replied. "And because of...this..." he pulled out a small video cassette out of his pocket, the only thing not soaked with blood.
"What is it?" Gohan asked, taking the cassette.
"It's...my...treasure..." the man's pulse was fading fast.
"Sir?" Gohan became even more alarmed. He held the man's hand, hoping that he could transfer some of his live into the dying man. It was useless. The man's grasp weakened with each gasp of his labored breathing. With his last ounce of energy the man pulled Gohan close to his ear. "Hope..." he whispered. Then he let go and closed his eyes.

"Sir?"

No reply. Gohan checked the man's pulse; he was dead.

Gohan stuffed the video cassette into his backpack and continued walking. He finally discovered a familiar street and walked out of Satan City. Like always, Kintoun was waiting for him. He hopped on and flew home, lost in thought.

"Gohan!" Chi-Chi exclaimed when she saw her son. "It's about time you got home. What took you so long?" Gohan didn't answer; he had the strangest look on his face, like he was holding back an enormous flood of emotions. "Is something the matter?" She asked, concerned. Gohan mumbled something unintelligible, went into his room and locked himself in.

Gohan threw himself on the bed and lay there for a long time. He was strangely void of any feelings; the shock and the numbness that resulted had protected him from the worst. After a while, though, it all came back to him and Gohan could no longer hold back the anger that burst forth.

N...nani??? Piccolo looked down in alarm; for a long, terrible moment he could almost see Gohan's ki glow with unusual brilliance. After Cell was defeated he decided on Kami-sama's former residence. He felt it was quite appropriate, since he had reunited with his 'good' half and the place offered a great view. But what he saw now was disconcerting. Only once before had Gohan's ki gone higher, when he fought against Cell and finally became Super Saiyajin Level Two. What was especially alarming, though, was Gohan's emotions--anger and confusion and frustration and thousands of others that Piccolo could not even attempt to name were streaming out of the boy. Fortunately, Gohan was able to keep his ki from destroying everything around him. Still, Piccolo was worried. What if Gohan was not able to control himself?

Gohan finally came to his senses; panting heavily, he lowered his ki and collapsed on the bed again. He clumsily wiped the tears that streamed down his face, but they kept coming. The hateful words that he heard played themselves back in his head. Gohan pressed his hands against his ears and gritted his teeth, but the voices wouldn't stop. The Master Race. The Final Solution. Extermination. Jew. Slav. Nigger. Chink. Slant-eyed.
Why??? Gohan wanted to scream. Why did all of those people die? How could the entire world turn a blind eye to such horrors? Why did they want to hurt that man?
The phrases kept repeating over and over again. Like a bad tape, Gohan thought bitterly.

The tape!!!

Gohan remembered the tape that the dying man had given him. He pulled it out of his backpack and examined it carefully. He called it his "treasure". But what could be in this thing that was so valuable? Gohan wondered.
There was only one way find out. Gohan popped the tape into his VCR.

A grainy picture of a man appeared on the screen; Gohan recognized him as Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., whom the teacher had called "the greatest Civil Rights leader of all time."
Dr. King advocated the peaceful advancement of Civil Rights, and he had called for a peaceful march on Washington, D.C. Many people made inspiring speeches there, and Dr. King was the last to speak. This tape began near the end his speech.

"I have a dream..." Dr. King declared. "...that one day this nation will rise and live out the true meaning of its creed: 'We hold these truths to be self-evident; that all men are created equal'...I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character. I have a dream today..."

Gohan felt the words wash over him, like a soothing balm; Dr. King's booming voice drowned out the voices of hatred in his head. He felt himself fill with hope.

"Hope..."
That was the dying man's last words. So this is what he meant! Gohan realized. This is what was so important to him!

Gohan suddenly thought of something; he opened his backpack, searched through some folders, and pulled out his notes on Dr. King.
"Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr." He read aloud. "Born 1929, assassinated on April 4, 1968." He put paper back down. Dr. King stood up for what he believed in, and he paid for his life. He thought sadly.

Wait a minute! Isn't that what we're all supposed to do? Gohan began to brighten again. Wasn't that why we risked everything before: to fight for the right?

The tape stopped with a click; the noise brought a startled Gohan back into his room. He carefully took it out of the VCR and put it into a plastic case.
"Gohan!" Chi-Chi called, knocking on the door. "Dinner's ready!"
Gohan stood a little while longer, then put the tape down. "Hai!" he responded.

"You looked really upset this afternoon, Gohan. Was something wrong?" Gohan stopped chewing and looked at his mother. For a few moments he considered what to answer.
"I'm okay now, Mom." Gohan reassured her. "I learned something very important."
"Oh?" Chi-Chi, bringing another dish to the table, raised an eyebrow. "And what's that?"
Gohan swallowed his food and smiled.

"Hope."

In loving memory of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and the millions lost during the Holocaust.

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