Note: 4th Revision

Warnings: Unrequited Love, Practice Piece, No Plot/Plotless, Filler Event, Contains References To Still Unpublished Stories, Experimental First Time Fic For Respective Fandom, ザンP, 飯P

Disclaimer: Dragon Ball/Z/GT/Xenoverse/Super/etc. belong to their respective owners. I own nothing except this derivative fanwork which I do not profit from.


Story #1:

"Against All Logic"


Zangya woke to a peaceful morning. She breathed in the cool breeze that kissed her face, bringing with it the aroma of wildflowers. Her wildflowers. And somehow, despite everything, she was growing to like her new life as a defender of justice.

Once a ruthless member of the Galaxy Soldiers, she used to scoff at the very idea of justice, righteousness, and the like. But now, as fate would have it, she was here. Lying on a comfortable bed, on top of the closest thing to heaven—literally, a floating haven in the sky; and most importantly…

Close to a certain Namek she had been deeply taken with.

She smiled to herself, remembering the day that he himself planted the seed of the extinct flower from her home planet and worked his magic so hard just to ensure it grew properly. She could not believe it when she saw the flowers bloom so richly again. Even if the Earth-born Namek had only done it because she practically begged him to (and as a sort of payment for what she had done for him in HFIL), she didn't mind at all.

It was still the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for her. She couldn't ask for anything more… At least, not at the moment.

*"Piccolo-kun is not only handsome but also nice. Even if he pretends not to be." Zangya said to the vivid yellow scarlet-stained *Amranxis petals seemingly waving to her with its wispy tendrils from the pot on the windowpane.

"Piccolo-kun… I think… I love him," she whispered, loving the way his name felt on her lips. She cuddled the fluffy pink pillow right next to her (the one she had given to him). With a sigh, she brought the said pillow to her face and sank into it– and inhaled deeply. After many weeks of it perched in a divan in his room where he rested, it now smelled of him; sleeping with it was her not-so-secret guilty pleasure.

Unlike most of the beings she commonly associated with, Piccolo always smelled clean and strong. Like nature after a kind rain. Even his sweat had a scent like fresh morning dew drops – earthy fragrant with a hint of heated sweetness.

She didn't know much about Nameks but she knew that Piccolo rarely ate and hardly took in anything but water (which she speculated was probably why he smelled so pleasant). He was much like a tree… strong, sturdy, dependable... and majestically beautiful.

Zangya knew it annoyed him – finding that she slept in his room when he wasn't around. He never said anything, but she could always tell by the way he would close his eyes with a calming breath albeit the throbbing vein in his temple. Yet, she couldn't help it. Her hands defensively hugged the pillow tighter, as a woman would her lover, the softness of the fabric both soothed and tickled her skin. How she longed to be close to him...! But she knew that for now, this was about as close as she could get…

-x-

"Piccolo-kun, take it!" said what appeared to be a fully reformed Zangya clad in a flowing above-the-knee plain lilac dress which highlighted her vibrant orange and bluish-green hues, daringly flattering every curve of her petite and yet strong body. It was one of *Bloomer's famous get-together parties many weeks ago, and the first she was civilly invited to attend. It was also Christmas, and the first time in her entire life that she had gone out of her way to give anyone a gift out of the "goodness" of her heart.

Growing up rough, it was easy to act cocky and cold-hearted around everyone. But somehow around Piccolo, she found herself questioning what she came to know as customary.

There was something about him, even from the first time they met… Those penetrating inscrutable eyes of his that made her feel naked and more helpless than she would ever care to admit. Of course, she was too busy loathing him then to even stop to think about what those feelings he incited in her actually meant. It was too late to do anything by the time she realized the cause of the anomaly – a simple and even anticlimactic one:

She had fallen for him.

Of course, the moniker "Piccolo the Demon King " was not unfamiliar, having spent most of her time with the worst souls in the galaxy in HFIL, including the man himself. What she wasn't prepared for, was how the son of the said infamous "Demon King" was just as nauseatingly noble as rumours portrayed him…

When she first saw him from their specious Battle Island arena, she didn't know why she felt a most compelling urge to be the one to crush him, and she waited for that moment with zest. But she couldn't understand her intense disappointment either to have to battle a *different fighter in his place because he decided to forfeit right before their duel. She made quick work of the midget, irritated by the fact that his replacement wasn't even half as magnificent a creature as the one she had been sadistically anticipating.

Much later, when he suddenly showed up in the fight to save his comrade, she got a second and unknowingly final chance to fulfil her desire to crush him—which was, yet again, preempted. This time, by her untimely and terrible demise. Given their circumstances, she knew she would never get another chance to see him. If he died his soul would indubitably go to the opposite of where she was sentenced to. He was noble and heroic; whereas she was debauched and cruel. And so, his soul was destined for boring holy heaven while she was to be eternally incarcerated in hell to atone for her crimes until her dark soul reformed of its own. Which of course, she reckoned was never going to happen. Or that's what she thought.

The fateful yet completely unexpected encounter rekindled her lust to strike him down from his high and mighty sanctimonious pedestal. And yet, all thoughts of animosity were purged, the *first moment he looked her straight in the eye before they faced off. She didn't have time to register what had actually happened, but she remembered thinking how much of a waste it was that someone as strong (and fine) as him had strayed from the path of evil. As she watched his body slowly being drained of life in the hands of his tormentors, she soon forgot why she wanted to have a part in it for the longest time; even finding herself lost in thoughts never in her whole villainous life did she imagine she could be lost in.

Somewhere inside of her, a most alienating impulse took root and burgeoned so fast- that by the time her conscious mind's fingers could get a hold on it and weed it out, she was already powerless to. The idea of him had already been planted too deeply in her to resist; she needed to save him, even at the cost of her own life. Even if she could find no reason to justify it. So new and unaccustomed to such compassionate feelings and tendencies that she genuinely did not know how to act on it; confused and conflicted as to why he was suddenly so important to her and all the numerous complications it entailed. But in the end, nothing else seemed to matter more. Only him.

It was suicide for any of the living to enter HFIL's restricted levels without actually being dead first. The highly toxic concentrations of negative Ki in its bowels were more than enough to crush an average body and swallow even the strongest of beings whole – mind, body, and soul; whichever came first. It was only a matter of time. Zangya knew that Piccolo Daimaoh Jr was anything but average and well beyond even the strongest. But still! HFIL packed enough poisonous energy to subdue every single one of the most formidable warriors of the galaxy within seconds. It was as simple as: no one stood a chance against exposure for prolonged periods of time. Not in the one place in the world designed specifically to imprison all the damned of the universe.

Zangya was sure Piccolo wasn't ignorant of that fact (he was the current god of Earth, after all). The Namek need not have suffered as much if he simply surrendered to the inevitable. And yet, he refused to yield and chose to fight to the very end…

How could someone like him stand to remain so pure in the face of such intense pain and torture?

And more so, what reasons compelled him to do so?

Such powerful reasons it must be that even at the cost of his own life and his soul's damnation, he remained resolute against even the full force of HFIL's most evil.

She tasted tears on her lips, and it took a long time before she acknowledged they were hers. She had forgotten what it felt like to cry. It had been too long ago since she allowed herself to succumb to such a weakness. But the more she witnessed him defy everything she had ever come to believe her whole messed-up and meaningless life, the more they poured against her will. Even before his beaten and bloody body had hit the ground from a final devastating blow, she found her heart unable to bear remaining on the opposing side of him for much longer.

Surely, these were all just side-effects of being trapped in HFIL… Right? It had to be. Because she was not about to even entertain the underlying notion that perhaps her heart was not as black and empty as she had always thought.

-x-

Piccolo glared at the gift she was holding with utmost suspicion, as though it were something odious and it was taking all of his willpower not to set the defenceless present on fire with the laser beams from his eyes.

Zangya laughed. "Take it easy! It's not a Saibaman or anything as awful! It's only a harmless—and rather comfortable—pillow! Trust me, it won't bite." And with a more emphatic shove toward his chest (or what she could reach of it), she entreated, "Take it, Piccolo-kun, *onegai~?"

"I have no need for such things," the Namek finally acknowledged, barely above a whisper—but still in that usual riveting voice that made Zangya unconsciously bite her lip in an effort to quell a hidden desire it awakened in her.

"Right…" The Heranian ex-mercenary lowered her arms, aware that almost everyone at the party had stopped whatever they were doing and were all eyes and ears on the two of them.

She leaned forward and mussitated so low that only someone with superhuman hearing would be able to pick up her words, "I get it. You're just shy because everyone else is looking, aren't you?"

Without waiting for a reply, she smiled a smile that conveyed that she wouldn't so easily be dissuaded; and with a flick of her long braided hair, she turned on her heel and hummed sweetly, "I'll just put it in your room later when we get back to the temple then."

Piccolo watched her walk away carrying the big fluffy pink pillow with an even bigger red ribbon tied around it, quite disconcerted that she was going to defile his resting space with that overly-feminine article just as she had so cloyingly threatened she would. Though he said nothing, he couldn't help but wrinkle his nose in distaste. Soon after, the tension dropped from the air and everyone went back to whatever it was they were doing.

Well, everyone except a certain teenage demi-Saiyajin that is, who was always especially concerned. He pretended to carry on with the merriment but he kept his eyes on Piccolo from a distance. Sensing this at once, Piccolo glanced in the teenager's direction and their eyes met.

'Still worried that she's up to something?'

'You could say that.'

After some moments wherein Gohan pretended to be absorbed in refilling his glass with fruit punch, he pursued their telepathic conversation:

'What if she really just likes you?'

Piccolo frowned; memories of their recent misadventures in HFIL still fresh in his psyche, as though all of it only transpired yesterday.

*'Piccolo-san?'

'She tried to kill you once when she was alive, Gohan. She tried to kill us both when she was dead. I don't think it's logical to want to exterminate someone one minute, then suddenly like them the next.'

'Oh. Well, I don't know…' A very light blush was becoming apparent on the boy's cheeks which Piccolo more of felt than saw. 'Those kinds of feelings are not necessarily logical most of the time…'

Piccolo huffed as he sat himself beneath a tree to meditate. 'And your point being?'

'What if… well, what if she really does like you? What will you do, Piccolo-san?'

At this point, they found their gazes locked onto each other again from across the spacious lawn amidst the hustle and bustle of the lively festivity around and between them.

Piccolo's brows furrowed a bit, finding the idea absurd, to say the least. He merely released a mental puff in response,'Nothing.'

Gohan smiled. 'I'm glad.' Leaving the part about his agonizing jealousy unspoken, though he knew that Piccolo would have sensed it all the same.

It was no secret that the new experimental member of the Z-Senshi had a special interest in Piccolo, constantly showering him with more attention than others from the moment they returned from HFIL with her soul in tow. In exchange for her revival, she pledged allegiance and loyalty to their cause.

But what understandably piqued the rest of the Z-Senshi's curiosities, was how she declared Piccolo her saviour whom she was now fully indebted to, in response to why Piccolo and Gohan had brought her—an enemy—back with them in the first place, adding that that in itself was a guarantee of her loyalty. Villainous as she was, she upheld honour.

It soon became clear that she was more than just "grateful" towards Piccolo, as she went as far as ask to be allowed to live with him in *Kami no Shinden, which was something that Gohan (who was—at this point in our story—somewhat "engaged" to the Namek) did not take very well. Upon finding out about their living arrangements, he wasted no time in going there to vehemently express his opposition.

And that was how the young demi-Saiyajin and the Heranian ex-mercenary ended up in an imminent face-off there many more weeks ago, right in front of a small audience consisting of Dende, Mr Popo, and one bewildered Piccolo…

"With all due respect, Dende-sama. I know Zangya-san has *proved her worth to enter the sacred temple… But why not give her quarters in the Tenkai instead of here?"

Dende and Mr Popo stared speechless for some moments, always quite taken aback at the boy's rare bouts of assertiveness especially in what seemed to them a trivial matter.

Piccolo mistook it for worry at first. The boy did tend to be overly protective of him.

'Gohan…' he began telepathically, intending to assure him that he believed he wasn't going to be in any danger from her staying, even if he didn't like the idea himself. But he never recovered enough to do so from what immediately followed...

"Oh, aren't you just the cutest jealous little thing?" Zangya cooed, as she approached her rival.

This boy. The reason for Piccolo's permanent reform… And she couldn't help the wave of spite and envy.

Gohan took a fighting stance and the air began to crackle with tension as their Ki levels rose.

"Don't you worry your pretty little nose over it, lover boy. As tempting as it may be, I don't plan on seducing your precious Namek. It's painfully obvious—and quite nauseating, to be perfectly honest—that he only has eyes for you, and I'm not interested in seducing men who're already taken… Well, at least, not anymore…" Zangya's eyes fixed on Gohan and took on an almost cat-like mischief. "I can't make any promises that I won't though…"

By then, Piccolo's face was a shining picture of embarrassment and Gohan was one provocation away from ascension.

"Please." Piccolo rubbed his temples. "Enough. I am not some frail female to be fought over. Gohan, there is no need for this. Trust me."

Reluctantly, Gohan was finally persuaded to pursue the matter no more and soon left; but not before grabbing Piccolo and kissing him on the lips, very possessively while their audience gaped.

-x-

"I'm so jealous…" Zangya sighed when Gohan was already gone. "I wish somebody loved me like that."

That random comment stirred Piccolo out of his shock somewhat, and he found it hard to come to terms with the idea that someone like her, who was young and becoming, had not been someone special to anyone.

"Surely, you jest," he had blurted out before he could stop himself, and he mentally slapped his forehead for it.

He had vowed to avoid speaking to her unless absolutely necessary, and here he was spouting nonsense at the drop of a hat.

It was too late, however, as he saw the effect of his remark all over her face. She was smiling from ear to ear, blue eyes twinkling in amusement.

"That is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me."

Piccolo closed his eyes with a sigh, confusion and some amount of frustration set upon his twitching brow. Before he could process it, she had hovered off the ground a little and leaned in to give a quick but tender peck on the very edge of his lips, teasingly close to where tingles still danced from his demi-Saiyajin lover's passionate kiss.

His eyes popped open, feeling an indignant shriek building in his chest and ready to erupt—but then, a slender finger was lightly pressed over his lips, effectively preventing any sound from escaping.

"Thank you." She leaned into his ear to breathe in a seductive purr, "Your little lover is lucky that I've decided to give this goodie-two-shoes act a try because I really would have loved to have you all to myself."

Before Piccolo could belt out a retort (not that he was collected enough to), she had already jumped away and landed a considerable distance from him, waving goodbye as she walked away with her back turned to him.

"Tell him to hang on real tight all the same. It's true, you made me want to be a good girl now… But you also make me want to be a very bad girl… If you know what I mean…"

Piccolo frantically wiped the spot where she had kissed him, feeling his face burn even more…

*"Kisama…"

"Until tomorrow, Piccolo-san. Good night… and sweet dreams." In seconds she had disappeared from sight, off to her designated quarters at the Tenkai.

Predictably, both sleep and pleasant dreams eluded Gohan and Piccolo that night.

And many of the succeeding nights from then on

The End.


Notes:

*Piccolo-"kun" -A suffix of endearment usually for little boys, or someone you are really close to. Not translatable.

*Amranxis – A made up name (a play on "amaranth").

*Bloomer - Bulma's real English name.

*different fighter – References to the "Battle Island" movie scattered in this fic.

*first moment he looked at her – Will be explained in a future story.

*onegai - In this context, it means "please".

*Piccolo-san - What Gohan fondly calls Piccolo in the original Japanese version. It has no exact equivalent in English.

*Kami no Shinden – God's/Kami's Temple. A play of words in Japanese that is untranslatable.

*proved her worth - More on this will be explained in a future story. Instead of following the incongruity of the Z canon later on that anyone can set foot in the temple, we retained the original concept first introduced in DB that only the worthy can enter Korin's Temple and Kami no Shinden.

*Kisama - Something that Piccolo is very fond of saying... (that isn't very nice, mehehe).


Updated Notes:

This was something I wrote a loooong time ago when I was just a young teen who shipped Zangya with Piccolo (yes, I wasn't always a loyal GohanxPiccolo shipper *gasp*). Technically, it was my real very first attempt at making fanfiction even before I knew what fanfiction was (which likely accounts for its level of suckiness, merp). When I decided to officially try my hand at Dragon Ball fanfiction I stumbled upon this and then largely rewrote it to turn it into a GohanxPiccolo (though, I still find one-sided ZangyaxPiccolo adorable). (The artwork featured here was done about the same time of this piece's original conception. I plan to redo this digitally someday.)


(This work was first published in my old FFnet account & simultaneously x-posted on AO3: 2015-12-24)


(01/09/2002 - 12/24/2015)
(Revised: 12/30/2015 & 08/12/2016)
(4th Revision: 06/10/2018)


Marieko West
{AO3}
{Dreamwidth}