Author's Notes:
The updates for this will probably be very slow seeing as how my other big Dragonball story is my priority, but this is my ship and I stand by it. ;)
For your clarification, Dende is a romantic asexual in this. If you don't know what that is but are forging ahead anyway, my hat is off to you for trying to learn something new. And also that you even gave it a try.
Thank you so much for reading and even more to those of you who leave feedback. I love hearing from you, answering questions, and just generally talking about Dragonball. It also is gratifying to know people even READ what I post.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Dende's dearest friend stood on the edge of the Lookout with his hands on his hips and his eyes fixed on the horizon. The night wind picked at his hair and tousled it gently like Dende had seen mothers do for their children while they slept.
Piccolo also played with Gohan's hair the same way as the wind, sometimes. The Grand Elder Guru touched the head of his children, too, except he did so in order to unlock potential whereas Piccolo went through the motion to soothe. It was a humorous dichotomy, actually. Guru was normally more the type to offer comfort, whereas Piccolo acted much more inclined to search out power and damn all sentimentality.
Again, Dende thought of Earthling parents and their children. It was so foreign to him, the whole concept of mothers and fathers- two creatures, one called male and the other a second sex, must unite to create a new life.
It only took one Namek to create new life, and thus there was no need to differentiate those who birthed and those who seeded. Namek only had the one sex.
Dende supposed that, here on Earth, he could choose to be either male or female, but it would be pointless. He was both sexes, as he understood it, and also neither of them.
Apparently, in the eyes and language of the humans here, this meant all Nameks were assigned male. That was fine. The Earth was another planet, and the rules Dende had first learned at birth were untranslatable- they were the rules of another world. Piccolo.
Trying to explain the concept further was a counterproductive headache, anyway.
The breeze grabbed at Gohan's hair again. He ran his own fingers through the black mess to keep it away from his eyes.
"Tomorrow's a brand new day," Gohan said, his eyes still searching the night sky for a wayward soul like he used to do many years ago.
Dende moved to stand by his friend. Lately, these visits were not uncommon- Gohan often came by on nights he could not sleep. Usually, he chatted with Mister Popo or Dende briefly, and then sat with Piccolo and meditated or read a book at his beloved master's side. Dende rarely had the opportunity to hold all of Gohan's attention for himself, and was grateful that Mister Popo was away on an errand and their tall, taciturn mentor was off finding his center in the wastelands to the south tonight. "Yes. It's a wonderful blessing," the Guardian said, planting his wooden staff in the tiles by his feet.
The two kept a vigil over the heavens together in silence. The camaraderie was nice, and Dende wondered how much of a difference it would make for the Earth to have two Guardians instead of one to watch over it and lay their hands upon it in comfort.
Gohan's thoughts were not so sweet- his dynamic and unsettled mood jittered in the air around them both. Dende's friend was no good at hiding his emotions despite all of Piccolo's insistences that Gohan control them, and the soft humming of anxiety eventually brought Dende's eyes to search Gohan's face. "What is bothering you?"
Gohan sent his hand back through his hair, but this time it was not because the wind had mussed it up first. "You ever think that maybe you don't know what to do with yourself? Like, well, you sort of know what you want, but not really, and you don't know how to go after it because you can't put your finger on exactly what it is or if it is the right thing for you to do?"
Dende fiddled with his staff. "I might. Why do you want to know?"
Gohan looked over, stunned, and then laughed. "That sure sounded defensive. Piccolo's really rubbed off on you, huh?"
Dende's eyes grew wide. "W-What? No! That's not what I was trying to come across as at all! I was trying to coax you into being more specific about your problem! I didn't mean-!"
Gohan laughed louder. The sound was familiar and warm. "I'm kidding. I know what you meant. It was just the way you said it, is all." He looked back to the open sky. "I'm just..." He closed his eyes and collected himself. "Buu really shook me, Dende."
"Buu shook all of us," the Guardian admitted. "I almost lost this planet and everyone on it. And I almost lost you to him, twice. No, three times. I..." How many times had fate forced Dende to stand on the precipice of a life without Gohan?
The first time was when Dende had met him. Gohan had flown straight into the mortal danger Dende was already engrossed in- glossy hair streaming from his head, fists clenched, teeth gnashing- and Krillin had been forced to step in and steal both children away from the reaper.
The rest of Dende's memories from Old Namek played out much the same. Their lives transformed into an endless game of hide-and-go-seek with murderers waiting for them at every turn. Was that two, three more times? Maybe four? It was difficult to keep track of how many times death almost cornered them. In fact, Dende had been caught, at one point, but Shenron gave him another chance at life.
That was very Earth, the idea of giving second chances to the dear departed. Nameks did not normally abhor their losses to the point of bucking the natural order of the universe.
But a half-year on Earth had been the prize for survival, and Dende learned that he loved this planet. He loved its forests and mountains, its inhabitants, and their potential for good. He loved Nail-made-Piccolo, and Krillin, and Bulma, and all his other new friends, and he loved learning about how day became night and the moon made different shapes in the sky.
And Dende had not realized that leaving Gohan to live on New Namek would make his heart ache so.
That was the fifth time, at least, that Dende might have never seen his friend again. He had felt that loss like someone of Earth, not like someone of Namek, and had jumped at the chance to change it when Son Goku arrived in search of a new Guardian.
"Dende?" Gohan gently pried. "Hello? Earth to Dende?"
Dende blinked. "You came here to talk about yourself and what's eating you, and I'm selfishly wandering off into my own little world. I apologize."
"No, no. I come up here unannounced all of the time and unload on you and Mister Popo. And Piccolo, if he doesn't get mad and fly off first." Gohan chuckled. "It's not fair of me to expect you to cater to me all of the time."
Dende stepped closer to his friend. "You are always welcome here! We are always happy to see you!"
Gohan considered Dende for a moment, and then sat down on the lip of the Lookout. "Dende, you're the Guardian of Earth. You've probably got more important things to do than humor me." He let his forearms rest on his thighs and his hands clasp together loosely at his knees.
Dende put down his staff and sat cross-legged next to his friend. "I want to help you if I can. Really. I want to make you happy. That's all I have ever wanted to do."
"Thank you, Dende," Gohan said after a pause. "Thank you, but you don't need to dedicate so much of your time and energy to me." He shook his head as the wind blew his hair around again. Dende fought the urge to brush it back into place. "It's probably not really a good thing for me to rely on others so much anyway, huh?" Gohan added.
"What exactly do you mean?"
Gohan sighed. "I've never been particularly fond of leaving my comfort zone. I've never liked fighting, or change, or having to sit and think about the fact that at some point I was most definitely going to have to make a choice between a normal life and the life of... Whatever it is you'd call my dad's role on the planet. For seven years, I avoided the choice altogether and we both saw how crappy the consequences of that turned out."
"Your father is here now, though. He and Vegeta are more than happy to protect the Earth and train for that possibility indefinitely so that you do not have to," Dende pointed out.
Gohan shook his head. "And I am so, so happy to have dad back, but what if that is not enough? What he dies again?" He exhaled. "Again. How ridiculous is that. My dad came back from the dead again because I couldn't do his job. Again!"
"Gohan, I don't think that is an entirely accurate or fair way of looking at the situation," Dende tried. "If Son Goku had not returned in the first place, Vegeta would not have chosen to-"
Gohan put his forehead in his hands. "Vegeta. I couldn't do anything for him, either. Or against him, really, when he attacked the crowd. With my dad gone, he waited in his gravity room and stewed and just..."
Dende pried his friend's hands away from his face and held them. "Stop this," Dende pleaded. "That is not your job. It should not be your job. The Earth should not be one person's burden to carry alone."
That earned Dende a slow, wry smile. "Says you, of all people."
Dende was torn between smiling back and closing himself off. Instead, he kept his face blank and held Gohan's hands more tightly. "I chose this," Dende said. "And the difference is, I did not entirely do it because I thought it was my duty. I wanted to come back to the Earth because I," Dende was actually unsure about what words to use. "I selfishly thought that," the concept of loving a single something or someone that you wanted to stay by its side forever was not Namek, at least, not in the specific way Dende was trying to express. "Moori volunteered me to come here because he thought it would be best. And he did it because he knew that I, um," Dende struggled. Could particular human concepts apply to him?
"It's not like you to be so ineloquent," Gohan observed.
Dende tried to smile this time, but he ended up just showing his fangs in a grimace. "This is difficult. May I," he swallowed. "May I just show you?"
Nameks relied on their minds for communication far more than other creatures. All their relationships were classified by how intimately they chose to communicate. Beyond fusion into one being, which was the closest thing Nameks had to marriage, the closest form of communication was to press foreheads and antennae together and be connected through the mind uncensored for as long as desired.
Such a mode of expression was the truest form of a meeting of the minds. The social connotations of the gesture differed greatly from those of Earth, but Dende supposed it was comparable to a kiss.
Gohan did not know all of that, though. "Show me? Sure, but I don't entirely understand."
"I'm going to," Dende's mouth felt a little dry for reasons he did not know. "I am going to try and connect our minds directly. You do not have antennae, but it should still work well enough."
"Like telepathy?" Gohan asked. "Piccolo has done that before."
"It's more," Dende faltered. "It's more in-depth than just that." He rubbed his thumbs on the back of Gohan's hands. Concepts, feelings. It communicated ideas before they were lost and cheapened inside of words. "I'm going to put my forehead against yours."
Gohan nodded. "Okay."
Dende cautiously released one of Gohan's hands and held the stray locks of hair away from his face. Gohan leaned down so that Dende could reach him more easily.
Gohan's big, kind eyes smiled at Dende when he hesitated. "It may be a little strange and confusing, at first," Dende stalled.
"Name one thing in my life that has not been," Gohan challenged, laughing. "And don't you dare say something like trigonometry or ancient literature."
This time, Dende did smile as he slid his fingers through Gohan's hair. It was softer and more pliable than he had expected it to be. "I see your point," Dende said, and closed both his eyes and the distance between their faces.
At first, Dende edged around Gohan cautiously and only let pieces of information slip through to him- how much the Earth amazed him, how happy he felt when Gohan visited, how wonderful it was that he had the privilege to be here on the Lookout at this very moment with just him- but progressively grew bolder and more specific as Gohan slowly caught on to how he could absorb the information presented to him.
Dende thought of parents holding each other's hands and the hands of their children, of two swans on a lake lit up by moonlight, and how the moon and the sun both orbit the Earth, and how they can eclipse one another but never touch. He thought of white flowers and black hair, the smell of Gohan's clothes and the sound of his laugh, and how silly he looked whenever he studied with a mountain of books bigger than he was sitting next to him. Dende remembered how much it had hurt when Gohan stopped visiting during the seven years after Shenron was reborn, and how much he wanted to ask Gohan to never do that again, and stay on the Lookout with him today and tomorrow and the next day and the next day, and then-
Gohan pulled his forehead away and gently pressed his lips against Dende's. It was the kind of kiss a child would give another, free of desire or impurity. It was the kind Dende was able to understand even then, with as little experience as he had about what it meant to love and be wholly dedicated to someone else.
He flushed purple.
At some point without his knowing, Dende had put both of his arms around Gohan's neck and Gohan had wrapped both of his around Dende's back.
Gohan's face was impassive as he gently disentangled himself. "I think I should go," he quietly said, and drifted away from the side of the Lookout. He hovered in front of Dende for a moment, and then turned away. Dende watched him grow farther and farther away until he disappeared into the starry night sky.
