Just Like Old Times
I can't say this comes from an entirely healthy place, but I can fully explain it.
To keep a long story short, I cam across bashing again, both of Krillin and his relationship with 18. It's somehow perceived as cheap, shallow, interchangeable, or horrible. Krillin is often swapped out for any male you care to name, be it his friends, an original character, a bizarre crack choice from somewhere else in the canon or filler... and it almost always reaches to somehow make him the bad guy in any given scenario.
And so, I decided to myself: why not take that same scenario and logic and apply it to Krillin in-character? Maybe explore exactly how ridiculous that is.
And this was born.
I hope I did it some justice, and I kinda hope this maybe makes some folk think. I personally doubt it, but... here goes.
"Why can't we just be friends?"
The words still stung the ears of the man on the sofa, muffled sounds of the TV all but lost behind it. how could he have been so stupid? How could he have brought himself to ever doubt the words that had been beaten into him as a child; that no one could ever love him, that emotional attachment was a pipe dream? It had certainly been proven yet again, and to hear it from her...
What part of him still left alive after that night three months prior had just stumbled off in silence, catching some comments about selfishness, lack of understanding, being wrong about how he cared about her. She had been the one to hurt him. She had been the one to begin seeing... HIM behind his back for weeks without having the decency to tell him. She even felt the need to share the details, what it was like being with him, how she'd gone to BED with him... that had been what finally broke him, he knew. That she'd been here this long solely because he'd been nice and didn't want to hurt his feelings.
Because she felt guilty.
He ran his fingers through a ragged mop of hair, his other hand tracing the smoothness where his nose would be, the odd shape of his face, realizing all too well that they were right. They had always been right. Even an angel could only tolerate his presence for so long, and he'd simply had to respect her decision, wish her the best and... let go. So much easier said than done.
He sat there, frozen,trying to remember when last he'd been happy. When had he laughed, been able to smile, come out of the shell he'd been forced into his whole life? Not since the lost of his dearest friend, his only family. With his brother he'd known peace, the only other who truly accepted him.
And as the darkness pressed in closer still, he knew what he had to do.
He stumbled over to the table, scrawled out a note for his master and the other regulars of the house. He had to apologize, after all. Apologize for making them tolerate his failures for so long, for so often being in their way... to thank them for the time they had given him.
But there was now no longer time for this. He had a friend to join. wordlessly, tears flowing freely, he left the door and took to the air, climbing higher and higher, blasting as far and as hard as he could; his skin was now freezing cold, his lungs burned and struggled for air and his vision became blurred and distorted until everything went black.
He could feel himself drifting now, his body numb, his fingers too frozen to move. None of that mattered now though, as he allowed himself to fall back. He was faintly aware of the sensation of falling, the searing hot burn against his flesh almost registered as he began to leave his body behind.
"See you real soon, buddy... just like old times."