He shook his head. This was impossible! It wasn't real, it couldn't be!


Could it?


"How the hell…" Piccolo slumped back against the wall, forgetting for a moment that he couldn't lean on something so thin. Thunk! He stared up at the stars outside, dazed. "I don't understand. I would never do that. Never."


Kill himself? "I can't remember doing that, but…but… Even when Trunks was trying to break Gohan and I apart two years ago I didn't consider suicide. That was never an option for me!" Piccolo closed his eyes and tried to dredge up some sort of tell-tale memory, but nothing came into his mind. He remembered leaving for a meditative excursion out into the hills, but no part of him recalled Gohan's sword. In fact, he had hidden that blade a few nights after Gohan had discovered him with it, placed it deep within a cavern where it would rest, hopefully unharmed.


And he was the only one who knew where it was…. That meant that no matter what, Piccolo had retrieved the sword, even if he didn't remember doing it. "Is there some kind of memory lapse involved with dying?" Piccolo wondered outloud, watching a plane cross the heavens.


He heard Gohan's voice in his mind again- 'The sword was still in his fingertips'….no, it couldn't be, could it? Piccolo closed his eyes and sighed softly, not at all understanding what had happened. He hated not understanding things with a passion.

"What should I do?" Gohan was blaming himself for this death. Had it been his fault? Piccolo tried to remember- no, they hadn't fought! In fact, the two years since Trunks came between them had been better than any before- they were closer, more connected, Piccolo had been completely satisfied with his lot in life. Even if he couldn't remember his death, he knew there had been nothing between him and Gohan that would inspire him to do that…. And nobody else was worth dying for.


"Why would I leave you, Gohan?"


The stars were still twinkling overhead. The plane was gone. And someone, Piccolo noticed, was at the door.

He stood, curiously, and walked around the side of the house. Standing in the doorway were two men talking in hushed voices, one of them had his hand raised as if poised to knock. Piccolo moved up next to them and watched them speak, only recognizing the first after hearing the voice.


"Do you think it's too late to call on him?" The sound was familiar, and Piccolo instantly tensed up. The first man had lavender hair clipped very short around his ears, with only the long bangs around his eyes hinting at the former length. He was wearing long khakis and a pressed blue dress-shirt.


"Trunks…" Piccolo whispered, not knowing what to think.


"You worry about him all the time. Just knock."


"I feel like I'm treading on someone else's turf…."


"You did, Trunks, and you still are. You still love him," the other man muttered, annoyed. He slipped the sunglasses from his eyes and slid them into the pocket on his jacket in one neat gesture of disdain. "Just knock already."


Piccolo turned and estimated the other man- he seemed nervous- constantly looking from left to right and staring at where Piccolo was standing as if he could hear something nobody else could. He had long black hair that was tied back in a tufty ebony braid, and his eyes were long and narrow, ice-blue in hue.


Piccolo nearly fell over in shock as he recognized the second visitor. That was Jinzouningen Juunana-gou…


Three knocks filled the night air and Chi-chi opened the door, surprised and then grateful for their visit. Piccolo drifted through the wall as the woman bowed to the guests and told them Gohan was in his room, and that they could go see him if they wanted, since she knew both of them. They thanked her and proceeded up the familiar stairway, Piccolo drifting just behind them the entire way.


The namekusei-jin couldn't take his eyes off Trunks- he looked so different with that nearly-shaved head, he looked young and rebellious. The part of him that had always looked at home behind a desk had been taken over by Vegeta's angry traits. What was Trunks doing these days, anyway? Piccolo couldn't remember, or maybe he had never known. Memories were blurry, now.


Juunana-gou sauntered through the hall behind Trunks, but every so often he would turn slightly and glance at something Piccolo couldn't see. What was wrong with him? Piccolo analyzed the actions but couldn't quite place what bothered him so much about them.


Trunks rapped on Gohan's door, and the boy opened it a crack, staring at Trunks with wide-eyed astonishment. Many nights of crying had followed that fateful time so long ago, when Trunks had told Gohan he couldn't bear to see him again… Piccolo remembered holding Gohan in his arms while the man sobbed brokenly, aching for the best friend that had taken the friendship to be something more… Gohan had cared for Trunks, just not as deeply as Trunks had wanted, and he had never, ever blamed Trunks for anything that had occurred. The expression on his face now was one of a man who had seen a figure of his dreams step through his front door.


Both were let in, though Gohan perched on the windowsill now instead of on the bed, clasping and unclasping his hands in his lap. Juunana-gou refused to sit anywhere, but Trunks allowed himself to lean against the wall. Neither of them looked particularly at home there in the darkened room of a dead fighter and his living lover.


"Torunkusu," Gohan whispered softly, voice nearly cracking with the simple words. "You're here… I can hardly believe you're here…"


Trunks looked away, studying the blobby screen saver on the computer. "I heard about Piccolo…" he said by way of explanation, shifting his weight. What could he say? Were there any words that wouldn't sound forced and fake? He did regret Piccolo's death…not for Piccolo's sake, but for Gohan's.


Juunana-gou smirked at the tactlessness, and smoothed his black leather jacket down with one pale hand, saying nothing. Whatever his emotions were, Piccolo couldn't read them- the face the jinzouningen wore was an impassive mask of detachment.


Gohan shook his head, then bit his lip before speaking. He was torn between pain at the mention of his lover and the fascination that Trunks' new appearance had brought on. "I thought you must know by now..."

The lavender haired demi-saiya-jin's voice was unemotional and efficient, he was obviously eager to leave, thought Gohan. Trunks was merely trying to get everything out without breaking down or tripping over his own words, realized Piccolo. The love was still there, shoved down and away, but still remaining. "I'm sorry, Gohan. I came to give my respects and tell you that…if you need help with anything, money or material, let me know…"


"Th…thank you, Trunks… please don't go….please…"


Trunks had been moving towards the door skittishly, but he paused when Gohan spoke. The black haired man had lifted a hand, and his eyes were pleading- don't leave him alone, Piccolo growled internally. Gohan needed friends now, even if those friends were Trunks and this inhuman machine… "Tell me what you've been doing, why do you look so different? Why is Juunana-gou here?"


Trunks shifted his weight from boot to boot and shifted his gaze to the picture of a mountainside hanging on the wall near the windowseat. "I….not much….I gave up Capsule Corperation for a while and I've started doing inventions and free-work like mom used to do when she was a teen." He didn't tell Gohan about his little break down or the way he had nearly killed so many people when he had finally snapped…Gohan didn't need to know that. Gohan didn't deserve to know that.


Juunana-gou spoke then, his voice calm and as young as it had always been. He must have sensed Trunks' hesitation, and he covered up for the slip with ease. "I'm an experiment. You remember that jinzouningen cannot sense ki, I'm sure?" When Gohan nodded, he continued. "Trunks is working on sensors for that-" tilting his head, Juunana-gou looked straight at Piccolo again, though he didn't really see him. "But it seems to be malfunctioning again."


"I've installed three sets in him, but none are working properly," Trunks mumbled, feeling guilty for talking so impersonally about his work instead of about Gohan's problem. He missed the older man terribly, but letting that show now would merely add salt into the old wounds. "Eventually we'll work it into some sort of person-locator, I hope to make a radar so sensitive that you can enter a certain person's energy and they'll be located anywhere on the globe."


Gohan nodded, but he was looking out the window again, as if his mind was somewhere else all together. Perhaps it was, mused Piccolo- the past had been preferable to the present in many ways. "That sounds very worthwhile, Trunks-kun."


"And you…Gohan….." Trunks murmured, staring at the man with unabated adoration in his eyes.


"You are teaching, I believe?" Juunana-gou asked softly, his voice coiling and uncoiling like a snake. "Are you still at Orange Star?"


"Yes," Gohan said quickly, "but I'm quitting."


"Why?"


"I'm going to sell the house and move somewhere…I don't know where…somewhere other than here. I don't need so much room, and I'm not much of a people person anymore… you have to love people to teach….I don't….I mean, I can't…"


Piccolo blinked. He hadn't realized Gohan was serious about leaving…


"Oh Gohan, think it over first!" Trunks nearly cried out, passion in his voice. "Don't make a rash decision because of this…" he trailed away. "I mean, if you like teaching, Piccolo would want you to teach, not to mourn him forever and ruin your life…"


Gohan froze up, staring at Trunks coolly. He swallowed back the stinging retort that was poised on his lips and shook his head, eyes dull. After all, Trunk didn't understand, would never understand, because nobody could understand the pain he felt. "Maybe."


They both shifted their weight before Trunks murmured an empty excuse into the thick air of the room. "It's getting late…"

"It is."

"We should go…"


Gohan sighed and nodded, looking strained in the low light. "Yes, fine. If you really want to."


Trunks edged towards the door and licked his lips. It was nice talking to you, Gohan. It really was. I've…." No, don't say THAT! Quickly Trunks groped about for another few words. "I've really missed seeing you."

The black-haired saiya-jin boy looked suddenly a bit more interested. "You have? I've missed you. I liked talking to you."


"Yes…"

"Please…." Gohan's eyes were hidden beneath his bangs, but his hands were trembling. He had lost his best friend years before and now his closest soul mate, a mere week ago. He was so lonely, so lonely…"Please come back and see me, Torunkusu-kun…?"


Juunana-gou slipped out of the room and Trunks nodded quickly. The two years he had spent apart from Gohan hadn't been able to kill the love he felt. Now, after all this time, could he have Gohan to be his own? No…so soon after Piccolo's death, no. He swallowed before answering, unsure of his voice. "I will…I promise, Gohan."