Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ.
I wanna get this story rolling.
Chapter 2: Falling
Piccolo Jr. remained in the city, observing humans from the shadows, but he didn't watch anyone as closely anymore. He was still in turmoil about what he had witnessed, he didn't need another drama taunting him. His curiosity still pushed him to rebel against Daimao, but he wasn't as adamant about it anymore. The most pressing things Daimao gave him were the nightmares and the dislike of orange.
One day he was on the outskirts of town. It wasn't as crowded as the rest of the city and there were mostly houses, a few little shops and one skyscraper. He squatted on the edge of the skyscraper, looking down on all the activity below. Something caught his attention: a boy in an orange shirt. It wasn't just orange this time though; the feeling was much stronger. Black hair, he had black hair. Why would that matter? The boy started laughing. That's what triggered it.
Memories about a boy with crazy black hair and an orange gi flooded his mind. What was his name? A sickening feeling dropped his stomach. He snapped back to reality enough to realize he had fallen of the skyscraper and was plummeting towards the ground. Panic ripped through him, he had to remember how to fly-now. But when he tried to remember all he could think of was that crazy-haired orange clad warrior. He saw the boy angry, attacking, but not through his own eyes. Something told him it was through Tambourine. Who was that though? No he had to focus on flying. Instead he saw the boy again. This time though it appeared he killed him to take a Dragon Ball. His name, what was it? Go…Go-something.
He faced the boy again, the anger was still there, but there he was also more confidence. He fought this boy viciously- no, Daimao fought this boy. As Piccolo Jr. hit the shop that was next to the skyscraper, the boy tore through Daimao's chest and he remembered: Son Goku, I will have my revenge.
~/*\~
Piccolo Jr. woke up in a house, his head bandaged and his arm in a sling. When he sat up, his back hurt him, but it wasn't above his tolerance. He was confused. After a while, a woman walked in, she was genuinely glad he was awake. Piccolo Jr.'s instincts told him to have nothing to do with her, but she was nice, and he was curious why she had helped him. He knew that his resemblance to Daimao was uncanny, that's why he had remained hidden.
He spent the next couple of weeks with the woman. More and more of Daimao's abilities were coming to him, his fighting abilities at least. The memory of Goku had made them easier to access. Along with them though came something more confusing- emotions. Yes he had felt them before, but before he could always tell which one's were his and which one's where Daimao's. Now it was starting to blur. He was going through a growth spurt too. It was painful, even his body that regenerated quickly, was not meant to grow so fast. His meditations became almost ineffective, which made him feel tired. At the worst part of his growth spurt, he couldn't even move and he slipped into feverish delusions.
The woman took care of him the entire time. He was only vaguely aware of this through fleeting moments of lucidity, but he knew it was true. He knew he would mumble about Daimao and what his sire showed him, but she didn't recoil, she just comforted him, made him feel safe.
As the growth spurt ended he felt stronger than before, his mind more acute. The woman treated him no different. He thought about the son who pushed his father out the window. He watched the woman more closely to see if there was some hidden agenda, but he couldn't see it. She reminded him more of the father who argued with but was proud of his son. Maybe the son who'd killed had been rare- maybe humans weren't that bad at all.
Then one night he was out in the forest near the house, practicing his fighting techniques. His dull chi senses picked up a group heading for the house. This wasn't too unusual, groups of campers often passed but the house, but this was different. He hadn't quite mastered the technique enough to know what felt wrong about their chi, just that there was something off.
Uneasy, but curious, Piccolo Jr. crept to the edge of the forest and looked at the house. There was a large group of men with torches and guns, they all seemed angry. The woman he was staying with stood opposite of the mob, blocking the door to the house. His sensitive ears picked up their conversation.
"…he's not what you think he is," the woman spoke.
One of the men, the apparent leader, replied, "He's one of Daimao's minions! He's fooling you!"
"He's just a boy!"
"Ha! He's a demon, and your no better for protecting him! Now let us in, Goku killed their leader, now we have to get rid of all the leftovers!"
The crowd rallied behind this, Goku's name came up again.
The woman bellowed, "YOU CAN'T DO THIS! I DON'T' KNOW GOKU, BUT I DOUBT HE'D WANT TO SLAUGHTER CHILDREN!"
The mob didn't hear her words, chants of, "Death to demons," and "Follow Goku's lead," drowned out her protests.
The leader spoke again. "Out of the way! Move and we'll just take the demon's life, stay and we'll take yours too."
The woman refused to move. The mob overpowered her and pushed her into the house with them. Things crashed and broke until someone yelled, "He's hiding!"
"Fine then," the leader spoke, "set the place on fire, if he's here, he'll burn, if he's not he'll have no place to stay in our city!"
Piccolo's nose twitched as the stench of gasoline stung it.
The house went up in flames, the mob watching it from a distance, yelling in triumph. The woman's screams cut into Piccolo Jr.'s eardrums as she burned to death.
Piccolo Jr. watched, shock hit him first, and then the stoic demeanor he would master later in life took over. His face darkened, and fists clenched. His mouth curled in disgust, "Pathetic humans." Piccolo Jr.'s voice sounded eerily like his sire's. However, unlike Daimao, he turned and walked away, growling, "Let the pigs roll in their own filth." He thought, "How they idolize you Goku-no- Son. They worship you, make you sound so righteous." He sneered, "I wonder what they'll think when I mutilate you, when I kill you with my own hands. Those fools! Just wait maggots, if you think my father was terrifying, you'll think I contain all of Hell itself!"
He pictured the son pushing his father out the window, but this time, he was the son and Daimao was the father, "Sorry dad, you're in my way."
~/*On the Lookout*\~
Kami had been watching the spawn of his worst half for a while now. He had been pleased with his progress and had turned his attention to Goku for a little while. When he looked back Piccolo Jr. had taken a turn for the worse. He paused for a moment, knowing that he should do something. His pride told him it wasn't his fault. He tried to logically back this thought up by telling himself, that as Guardian, he had bigger responsibilities then one twisted little boy.
He was almost walked away, it would have been easy too, but his conscience weighed too heavily on him. He had to do something. So he decided to go down to Earth, something he hadn't done in so long he couldn't remember when he did it last.
"What the hell do you want old man?"
If Kami was an easily amused man he would of laughed at the sight of a three-year-old looking boy trying to look as intimidating as possible. Kami's face remained stern though.
Kami spoke as monotone as he could, "You recently started masking your presence."
The young Piccolo snorted, "Obviously not well enough."
Kami decided to cut right to the chase and grinned, "You've been alive for a couple months now. You put on a good act like Daimao, but your heart is different."
"Ha! Your mind must be deteriorating faster than I thought if you think I didn't inherit my father's anger and hate," he clenched his feet.
Kami clenched his cane a little harder, "No, I didn't say that. I still feel your anger and hate in your heart, but it's different Ma Junior. You don't take pleasure in other people's suffering the way Daimao did. His memories haunt you."
"Shut up! You don't know me at all!"
"Yes I do! I feel the pain and fear you do when you dream about Daimao! I feel your reluctance when he tells you what he wants you to ultimately do!"
"NO! I will rule this world one day! And I will destroy Son, I HAVE TO!"
"You don't have to do anything! You could defend this world instead!"
"Why the hell would I do that? Every person on this damned planet hates me! Fears me, they want me dead! So why would I save them? They can be left to the same faint they left me!"
Kami sighed, "And that is precisely why you are not Daimao, Ma Junior. You do not hate the people of Earth for no reason, nor do you want to kill for fun. You actually-"
"Don't tell me what I am or am not! You of all people have absolutely no right to pretend to help me. You never know could bring yourself to deal with my father when he was a part of you, what makes you think I can believe you want to help me now when we don't even share the same body?"
Kami had to keep his pride in check again, "I was negligent before…but I won't make that mistake again."
That set off an unexpected reaction in the boy, "I'm NOT A MISTAKE!" Piccolo Jr., who had not yet learned to control his emotions bellowed and charged at his godly half. Kami, although stunned, flicked the boy away much like he had Goku.
Piccolo Jr. skidded on the floor then immediately sprung back up, shooting a chi blast to lead his second charge. Kami was caught off guard and took the blast. He momentarily lost sight of the boy, but instinctively dodged his incoming kick. Kami reflexively struck Piccolo Jr. with his cane. He shivered as he felt the crack of the young one's skull. His evil counterpart slammed to the ground and rolled, unconscious when he stopped.
Kami shook, he did not enjoy violence or fighting. He could do it, but he did not like to, and he certainly didn't mean for this to end in violence. Kami surveyed the injury he received. He decided it was a good thing he chose to get involved, the boy had only been alive for a short period of time, and he was already nearing Kami's power level. Kami looked at the boy and gulped, sweat beaded on his forehead, "If I fail to help you, I'm not sure even Goku can stop you."
He picked up the boy and teleported back his Palace.
"Oh! Kami, you're injured!" Mr. Popo greeted.
Kami grinned, "It's nothing Mr. Popo, take our young guest to the room near my chambers. I will meditate and check on the Earth until he wakes up. Oh and don't let him interact with Goku." The Guardian handed the unconscious Piccolo to his trusted companion and walked to the throne room.
Mr. Popo looked at the unconscious demon-spawn in his hands and said to himself, "I hope you know what you're getting yourself into Kami."
Oh wow this chapter became really long. Well it was worth it. I hope you enjoy it!
Elieare
