There was an old book splayed-

And an ancient mystical dragon with the power to grant any wish imaginable.

But beneath it, was something far more interesting.

Shadows of swaying leaf canopies caressed the serene face, framing it in tantalizing patterns.

He wondered what surreal dreams were being dreamed…

His soul revelled and ached to be it.

To be nuzzled against the tip of the most delicately perfect button nose.

To press into slightly parted plush pink-dusted verdure lips…

So close now—

The warmth of subtle breaths tingled like confection in his tongue…

"Gohan-cha! Wake up!"

- - - - -x- - - - -

1
Stalkerazzi

- - - - -x- - - - -

"They should give up."

In the distance, their ebony-brown-haired gangly friend had just emerged from the end of class baseball practice; and already he was being beleaguered by a trepidation-inspiring horde of aspiring girlfriends, boyfriends, wives and husbands.

For someone only halfway through his third month of attendance at Orange Star Intergalactic Academy, Gohan Son Jr. had already caught the fancy of a significant percentage of the school's population. 'Though generally withdrawn and taciturn, he is effortlessly charming enough: with his sweet innocently boyish face, impressive intellect, and shy demeanour.' As described in a recent feature in the school paper, which officially named him one of the top contenders of "most sought after" campus heartthrobs.

Trunks Briefs, currently number one on that list, has more than his fair share of the school's population grovelling at his feet. But unlike Gohan, he actively entertained and even dated those he actually found interesting; thus keeping them in control. He already knew from experience that the more you rejected the "ardent admirers", the more plentiful they got.

The half-Saiyajin brunette, however, didn't seem to be catching on to that important fact, as he once again politely declined all his suitors for the day, bowing deeply numerous times in all directions. Some peeled away from the rabid flock either stunned or cross or both. Others were actually crying. But most just doubled their efforts in their re-appeals. It was such a mess, that even if Trunks may have initially did- he was beginning to not envy his best friend and rival right about now. They looked like an infestation of roaches upon the guy, it made his skin crawl.

It may have been the fantasy of any other nobody who wanted to be somebody to make their dreary high school life more memorable in a world subjugated to bland conformity. But Gohan was not one of those. As was established in the previous chapter, this was by no means our protagonist's goal, nor interest. Rather, he was one of the practically non-existent minority who has never even once been baited by fame. His response to Trunks' argument that he should be more 'welcoming to his admirers'- was that the attention would probably have been flattering and even heart-warming if they weren't always attempting to smother him to death with it.

"I can't decide who to feel sorrier for: him or them." Trunks remarked unsympathetically.

But as he watched Gohan bowing apologetically to his fans one final time before making a beeline through the love-struck herd and disappearing from view faster than any of them could take chase without even remembering that they would be there waiting for him- Trunks' decision was made: "Him. Definitely him."

"That bad, huh?"

"Hook, line and sinker." The tanned half-Saiyajin jumped down from the tree he had used as a lookout, to join Videl on the ground. "He's even more far gone than all of them combined. Heck, I don't think he even remembers we exist anymore."

"No duh! I can't believe he asked me again today what my name was!" The girl griped quite distressed. "Maybe next time he asks me again I'll tell him my name is Medusa Firespittle or something just as outrageous just to see if he'll even notice."

Trunks grinned. "I'll wager you he won't. And even if he does, do you really wanna risk being remembered as a Medusa Firespittle?"

"Forget it. I lose either way."

As they turned to walk out of the campus, they continued to marvel at how drastically their friend had gone from a reserved studious nerd to a full-blown infatuation-crazed stalker in a matter of weeks. The three of them used to spend more time together, chatting before class and over lunch at the cafeteria, walking home, and most times even doing homework as a unit either over at Trunk's or Videl's house. But lately, Gohan had been churning out excuse after another to scrimp on that until eventually he was skipping out on almost all of their activities entirely. He said he needed to study and finish all projects and homework during every break available (including lunch!) because he wanted to take on some extra reading after class.

It wasn't long before they discovered the real reason they were suddenly being ejected from his schedule… And it had everything to do with a certain Namek who happened to be conveniently fond of doing some extra reading after class hours too.

They wanted to confront him about it of course, but eventually decided against it thinking that this was just a phase, and it would only be a matter of time before Gohan gets over his exotic puppy love. Besides, they were sure he was bound to get rejected (-the unsociable Namek didn't even bother to interact with anyone. Where would the hormonal half-Saiyajin boyfriend figure into that?). Whichever came first, they made up their mind to wait it out. Besides, it was amusing at the very least. Not to mention, it made for engaging conversation.

"Well, Gohan-kun always seemed to totter at the border of his rocker. It must be his Saiyajin genes silently rebelling against that suffocating bundle of niceness that he always is. Maybe all this fanatical peace and pacifism has finally caused his fragile mind to snap, and Piccolo –even though the guy seems fairly harmless to me- poses an exciting kind of danger to him; a challenge out of the ordinary that gets him off or something…"

Her half-Saiyajin companion gave her a pointed look, to which she realized her error at once and mumbled a half-hearted apology.

"All geniuses are off their rocker, it comes with the package. Take my mom for instance." Trunks mused. "Only thing is, even if Gohan-san is a genius like Mom and has Saiyajin blood like me and my Dad, none of us are as naturally powerful as he is. Even Dad admitted as much. I overheard him and Mom arguing a long time ago, over whether Gohan-san needed to wear a *Ki-limiter as early as when he was born because his power levels were already tipping dangerously off the scales. I think that's the reason his parents never taught him even the basics of fighting even if Chi-chi-san and Goku-san were both well-trained martial artists. There was a time when Saiyajins and other just as powerful beings were executed for being unable to keep their Ki in check."

Videl suppressed a shudder. She only knew of the "dark days" from what their History classes and books revealed. But even she couldn't imagine how awful it must have been during those days if simply being born powerful was a crime punishable by death. True, she wanted to punch Gohan's lights out every time he forgot her name, but she certainly didn't want him dead. If not for Bloomer's recently developed Ki-limiter, Saiyajins and the like might not have been allowed to continue living here at all.

Since the technology was brought forward, Capsule Corporation had been commissioned by the government to mass-produce and release it in-line with the new law requiring (especially) new generations of Earth's inhabitants with potentially above average Ki signatures to be fitted with Ki-limiter watches and weren't allowed to remove it under any circumstances. The government had very efficient ways of detecting Ki spike anomalies that violated the set limit. This is how they found out if illegal battles were taking place, and violators were arrested on the spot with corresponding disciplinary measures immediately strictly enforced, which included -but was not limited to- execution. Through the years those Ki-limiter watches literally saved countless lives; not only allowing Saiyajins like Trunks and Gohan to exist and co-exist; but also giving every other non-fighting race the much-needed peace of mind that their alien powers were no longer a threat, and that it was safe to mingle with them. (She vaguely wondered in the back of her mind if Piccolo had to wear a Ki-limiter too…)

"On a lighter note," Trunks cleared his throat, itching to alleviate the sudden awkward gloomy atmosphere he had caused. "If I had to pick a culprit for whatever Gohan-san is down with, I'm quite convinced it's the books."

"The books." Videl eyed him dryly.

"Yeah. The books."

"You're still pushing that?"

They had already once before (jokingly) speculated that it was possible that Gohan had fallen in love with the fact that Piccolo was reading an actual book when they first saw each other; and not with Piccolo himself. This was attributed to the fact that Gohan was so in love with the antiquated things that if he could, he would probably marry them. It was practically rara avis to find someone like him who would still be caught pouring over traditional bound and paper-printed books, and seeing Piccolo sitting on the very same spot where he loved to read them -under the school's popular landmark, a late-blooming Cherry Blossom tree- they reckoned that for Gohan, it was most likely like finding true love.

Trunks shrugged. "Either it's because they're both obsessed with the things, or I dunno… maybe he thinks the Namek is a *djinni or something, just like characters in his favourite novel. He's always been into occult stuff like that, he loves anything and everything to do with magic!"

"C'mon, are you for real? You're saying he likes the guy because the guy reminds him of demonic entities?"

"Not exactly. First off, djinni aren't necessarily evil." Trunks pointed out. "But when you think about it, the original Nameks were also a terribly hostile race that employed dark mystical powers, remember? That's why they were even called demons at some point. But most of their kind were wiped out in the earlier wars. The Nameks we know of now are the greatly reformed ones, with lesser magical capabilities. There are only a handful of them left, and they were last heard migrating somewhere to a different much farther sector of the galaxy outside the scope of our own sector's jurisdiction. Or that's what we're made to think according to the history books. So Nameks are practically a myth! No one in our time knows for sure if they were real. Whether Piccolo is a true Namek or not, the idea of getting to see one in the flesh is pretty amazing. Given everything and factoring in Gohan-san's imagination, you have to admit my theory isn't too farfetched."

By now, the twin-ponytailed girl was laughing so hard, she was clutching at her sides. "Just what is your issue with half-breed humans falling for dreamy green alien men and love at first sight that you needed to rationalize it with such a roundabout and ridiculous theory? Honestly, what if Gohan-kun was simply –anticlimactically- in love with him? Piccolo-kun doesn't have to be a demon for Gohan-kun to like him! I can't believe you actually thought really hard about that just so you wouldn't admit the possibility of love!"

"Well, aren't you the romanticist." Trunks muttered sarcastically, raising his eyebrows at her antics. "And I didn't think about that hard, that was just a spur-of-the-moment idea. All I'm saying is that Gohan-san tends to have his head in the clouds all the time from all those books he devours! Okay, let's stick with the common interest in books then, I think that's believable enough- but love? I'm sorry to burst your bubble, Videl-san, but look around you! Whatever love you read about in those ancient fiction novels you're so addicted to, it isn't real. Love is just an over-glorified dissembling of our need to socialize and procreate. In short, we get bored, we invent colourful diversions to cover up how mundane our existence really is; how there is really no noble cause or higher power. Only existence. How many people actually marry for love? And even if they do, it's not what keeps them together, it's our laws. Love is practically a myth, just like the Namekian race. Love is a fictional concept as far as can be proven. That's all there is to it."

Videl stared at her lavender-haired schoolmate for a long time, jaw agape, and eyes wide in legitimate dumbfoundedness. Then once again, she broke into more boisterous –quite poise-less- peals of laughter. Trunks actually began to sweat-drop disconcerted after a good five minutes of it nonstop. The girl looked like she was spilling her marbles in the process and it was beginning to seriously freak him out.

"Will you quit it already?" he finally blurted.

"Boy, Trunks-kun!" she wheezed still amidst uncontrollable giggles, slapping him in the back with enough force to knock the wind out of him. "You seriously need a love life! Or even just a life! Geez, how do you even drag yourself out of bed every morning with that kind of outlook? I'm surprised you haven't tried to jump off a building yet! Oh wait- have you?!"

"W-wha—?"

"No, really. You need to stop just playing the field and seriously fall for someone! Majorly. You know what? Compared to you, suddenly Gohan-kun isn't so bad."

Trunks' face had been stuck doing a very good mimicry of a fish-out-of-water for some moments now.

Slinging her bag more securely around her shoulders, the girl wiped the tears of mirth from her eyes. "Besides, Mr Angst-bucket… I can prove that your theory is flawed! If it were just the books, then he should've fallen in love with both of us too…" Videl's voice turned quiet- too quiet for any sort of jocosity. "But he didn't, didn't he?" And with that, she proceeded to walk home, bidding him the usual farewell.

Trunks stared mutely for some minutes more, caught between being aghast and mortified. Then finally, running his fingers through his lengthy fringe (his ponytail barely keeping the rest of his mane together) he mutters, "Whatever." Before turning towards the direction of his own house, feeling more perturbed by her words than he wanted to admit.

-x-

Settling into his usual post under the same huge Cherry Blossom tree in the park that overlooked the library, Gohan began unpacking the books he had borrowed for that day. As he opened one and began to read, one would easily be able to tell that it was fictional literature he was reading, since all their educational materials were programmed into their desk computers and personal study tablets.

Traditional books were considered impractical for classroom learning because they were heavy and cumbersome to drag everywhere; plus they weren't very environmentally friendly, with so much of the forests in rehabilitation, still not fully restored after the wars. A traditional book hadn't been published for many decades because it had been outlawed when trees were almost completely wiped out from the face of the planet in the wake of the wars. Out of necessity, people soon got used to digital reading materials and slowly evolved out of what books originally were. It didn't help that the advent of amazing technological advances from all over the galaxy many years ago also inadvertently abetted this transition, and consequently brought all old fashioned libraries and all other types of non-digitally translated literature to the brink of extinction.

Which brings us back to Gohan…

The demi-Saiyajin did open his book. But no actual reading followed. Because he merely took on the appearance of reading. In fact, in what anyone who knew him well would consider an unprecedented moment- Gohan wasn't paying any attention to "the evil pharaoh who was about to curse the young magician who didn't only steal his best and most loyal djinni slave, but the heart of the said cunning djinni as well" which he had read for the umpteenth time, and even already knew by heart from cover to cover– no. This time, the book in all its hardbound glory served only but one purpose: A cover- both the figurative and literal kind- as his eyes skimmed over the words but all too often went up and above the printed page to steal a peek at the Namek beyond the garden inside the library, seated at his usual desk by the window (-said window happened to fall directly within his line of vision) completely absorbed in a thick hardbound book. Though there was nothing really compelling about watching someone perfectly stationary as they read a book with ironclad focus, Gohan never failed to find the sight anything less than breathtaking (especially since the Namek's profile gave him a nice view of that impossibly cute button nose).

After several weeks, he had managed to get his target's schedule down pat. Piccolo would read before class under the late-blooming Cherry Blossom tree, and after class in the library. He would watch the Namek like an eagle stalking its prey but did his utmost to appear like that was anything but what he was doing. No, he was simply reading like he usually did after school. It just so happened that Piccolo was reading too, and very close by. That's all. He wasn't doing anything creepy or stalkerish.

True that he already established that he was somewhat attracted to the Namek for reasons he couldn't yet fully understand himself, but he wasn't about to change his routine just because they happened to like reading in the same places. He wasn't going to run away. But he couldn't face the situation head on either; at least not yet.

Why don't you talk to him?

That was what his classmate (what was her name again? Vandel?) suggested.

Talking was not something unusual. It was simple enough to do, and it didn't have to mean anything. Sure, why not? If he could manage to keep his heart from leaping out of his mouth when he did so, it wouldn't be such a bad idea at all.

The teenager groaned, pressing his forehead into the book. Talking. Right. How do you go about that again? Why was it suddenly so difficult even in his imagination? Why was nothing simple anymore when it came to him?

-x-

Piccolo knew.

It was pretty hard to miss when it was the same thing every time he took his regular spot in the library. Seeing the boy across the school garden reading under a tree was common enough a sight to pass off as nothing out of the ordinary. But if you added up how the boy acted in class… Let's just say that if he got a zenny for every time he had caught the boy staring at him within the last two months, he wouldn't need to worry anymore about lunch money for the rest of the year –that is of course, if he even ate lunch at all. Still- the staring alone wouldn't seem as curious to a normal person as it would to a Super Namek with a hundred times the hearing acuity of an average human's.

The erratic and escalated heartbeats, the minute shifts in position, and the abrupt sucking of breath every time their eyes met. His ears heard it all. Telltale signs that it was more than a consistent string of coincidences.

It wasn't the first time he had witnessed these specific set of apparently involuntary reactions. However, it was the first time that he felt compelled to understand it better. He had an idea that these were how humans reacted when they were interested in someone (other races from other parts of the galaxy tended to be more direct with their nonverbals). And so he tried to find books in the library about it. When he didn't find any in the non-fiction section, he asked the librarian for assistance (pretending it was for an essay he needed to write). In response, she promptly heaped a bunch of books on his desk. All of which turned out to be romance novels.

The books –although not what he expected- did manage to address the subject extensively. However, it was an odd thing that after being able to familiarize himself quite thoroughly with human behaviour to do with romantic attraction, he found himself only more baffled than he was before. Curiosity more stoked than ever, he hungered to read more books about it (which the librarian was quick to recommend). So as he followed the story of this boy who was in love with this girl and exhibiting the very same symptoms that his avid "stalker" was doing around him- more and more questions surfaced; and the more he craved for answers. Before the second month into his little "research" project was up, he had already finished reading all the romance novels their school library had to offer.

Piccolo Daimaoh Jr. sighed as he placed down the book he had finished for that day (which he had already read for the third time), mentally noting that he hadn't heard the sound of a page turning even once since the moment the half Saiyajin had started "reading" around an hour ago. Somehow, the implications of that piece of information made his cheeks feel warm and knew by now that he was most likely blushing (something his cheeks never did before). It seemed to happen of its own accord every time he so much as entertained the idea that there was a half human possibly in love with him the same way boys and girls "fell in love" in romance novels -which he thought to be highly exaggerated by the way, and yet- his opinion did not stop the blood from creeping up and flooding his cheeks all the same, exactly like in those exaggerated romance novels. What triggered such a reaction, and why couldn't he seem to control it? He felt ashamed and annoyed at himself for even entertaining the notion that the half-Saiyajin was in love with him that way. Which was absurd, of course. Surely there were other reasons for the boy's peculiar behaviour towards him. That's all. That's what he chose to think of it for now.

"Ah."

Piccolo blinked.

The boy's things were still there…

But Gohan himself had disappeared.

-x-

Five minutes before Piccolo noticed his absence, Gohan caught something in his peripheral vision that made him turn.

Across the expanse of the school lawn where he was seated, a lanky boy with a bleached-blond head stood within the glass panelled corridor, looking straight at him and gesturing for him to come close.

-x-

"I didn't know you could read upside-down. That's some talent you got there."

Gohan was dusting his trousers when they had alighted in the empty yard which led to the school's maintenance equipment storage sheds. He looked up at the comment, and it took some seconds for it to fully sink in.

"Oh! That… err… haha! Uhm, thanks." He mentally smacked himself for the blunder, hoping to high heaven that Piccolo hadn't noticed that embarrassing little detail.

"Well?"

"Huh?" Gohan's attentions were brought back to the blond boy. "What did you want to talk to me about, uhm- Tamihaya-san, was it?"

"Tiyahama." the boy corrected through gritted teeth. When more silence followed, he spoke with poorly masked petulance, "You don't remember me, do you? I gave you a letter, you said you'd read it."

In all honestly, Gohan could not tear his mind away from the fact that the library would be closing in fifteen minutes! and he wanted nothing more than to get back to his erm, "reading" (preferably not upside-down this time) under his favourite tree as soon as possible, before a certain Namek went home. His mood was always unsalvageable for the remainder of the day whenever he missed glimpsing Piccolo before he went home.

Unfortunately, Tahamaya or whatever his name is noticed this and was not happy at the fact that the boy he was interested in and secretly passionately fantasized about- was being so inattentive towards him. It didn't help that the real Gohan was always so inexorably distracted every time he tried to make a move on him -the complete opposite of his fantasy Gohan.

"Uh, listen, err- Tahiyama-san, I'm really sorry but I need to finish reading this book before the library closes, so I have to go. But I promise I'll read your letter tonight, okay?"

"That's what you said the last time… and the time before that. I really think that you're not taking me seriously, Gohan-san. I hate that."

But Gohan no longer heard any of his mumblings. He was already sprinting back towards the side entrance.

He never got past it, though.

Three students -evidently from the rugby team judging by their uniforms- were suddenly standing there, imposingly barring the exit. The half-Saiyajin merely bowed and attempted to pass, politely excusing himself, but still, they didn't budge. Instead, they slowly boxed him in, cracking their knuckles and flexing their beefy muscles in a very intimidating fashion.

It could be said that Gohan was not very adept at socialising, to begin with, which inevitably contributed to his current predicament. But even his notorious one-track mind wasn't normally this dense not to notice how ominous the air around him had suddenly become, or how their menacing expressions and gestures were promising a world of pain… Unbelievable as it may seem, he truly didn't understand what was going on, or why he wasn't being allowed to pass.

The trio of rugby jocks, however, who were normally dense no matter what the situation- didn't make it a habit to care about much else except getting their end of the bargain. Details like whether the chumps they're paid to beat up understood why they were being beaten up in the first place or not were irrelevant. It was never personal anyway.

So when their prospective victim's genial smile turned into a frown, they didn't have a clue that it was not because he was about to get the crap beaten out of him- but because he was so forlorn that he wasn't going to be able to spend the next eleven minutes pretending to be reading a book in his favourite spot under a tree that overlooked the library- and quite frankly, they didn't give a-

End of Chapter 1.
Continued in Chapter 2: "Wool Gathering"

Notes:

*Ki-limiter – A headcanon invention for this world, obviously.
*djinni – Gohan-kun & I have the same favourite book, mehehe. (Sorry I just couldn't resist.)

(04/09-09/06/2016)