The sun was rising. Piccolo watched as it came, bathing first the rooftops where pidgeons and sparrows woke, then sliding down to top-floor apartments where sleepy cubicle workers rose and rubbed their eyes, preparing for another day in the heart of a bustling city.
Yes, the sun was beautiful, sparkling off dusty windows and slowly yet surely entering the Capsule Corperation compound. However, Piccolo wasn't staring at the liquid gold that was dousing the city, he was watching two figures, speaking in hushed voices within a small building. He could hear them perfectly well- Juunana-gou and Trunks had been up all night in that little room, Trunks getting drunker and drunker, and Juunana-gou getting jumpier and jumpier.
Now, as the sun filtered into the room, Trunks rubbed his eyes and yawned, his head ringing.
Juunana-gou was sitting across him, nursing a full glass of wine. He delicately ran a fingernail around the rim of the crystal glass and shook his head. "I don't understand, Trunks."
Piccolo looked down as the light struck him- he was shadowless, and the thought chilled him. Quickly he moved through the wall and into the still-dim room that stank of liquor and cigarettes.
"There's nothing to understand, Juu-kun..." Trunks' voice was bleary and tired, his eyes bloodshot. He was laying his head on his arms and hiccuping every so often.
"There's enough. Why do you care so much?" There was irritation in the black haired boy's tone as he watched Trunks take another pull at the wine bottle on the table, a bit of the red liquid slipping down the man's lips and chin. "He's just a boy. He's nothing that can't be replaced."
Trunks looked as though he was torn between crying and screaming, and Piccolo was struck once again with the realization that Trunks had truly loved Gohan...it hadn't been a joke. He had cared deeply for the demi-saiya-jin, but Gohan had eyes only for Piccolo.
Thank God.
Trunks evidently chose crying, because he buried his face in his hands again and his shoulders were trembling as he spoke. "No, you don't understand. You can't."
As Piccolo watched, he self conciously looked down at his hands, not wanting to see Trunks reduced to a drunken, sniveling mass. As he did so, he caught a glimpse of his wrists, and nearly cried out in surprise.
Tracing across his flesh were long, jagged scars. Bloodless despite how fresh they looked, Piccolo could almost feel the blade in his wrists as he stared at the lines, suddenly unable to breath.
"Oh my god..."
Juunana-gou looked up and narrowed his eyes slightly, then turned to Trunks and spoke in a buisnesslike tone. "The scouter is malfuntioning."
Piccolo was wrapped up in his wrists. As he watched, the slashes seemed to grow and expand, widening and becoming more deadly by the second. Only...they didn't hurt, or ache, or bleed! What the hell was going on?! He looked desperately up at the two living beings, searching to see if the same thing had happened to them- no, of course not. He was the only ghost here, maybe on the whole planet-
Trunks had stopped crying, but he was still trembling like a child. Juunana-gou's face registered a sort of tender regret that all but shocked Piccolo back into sanity. What was that? For a moment he forgot about the racing scars on his wrists and watched as Juunana-gou clumsily (for a jinzouningen, anyway) stood up and moved to Trunks' side.
Looking as if he wanted to apologize, Juunana-gou looked up, straight at Piccolo. For a moment the namekusei-jin felt as if he had been seen, but when Juunana-gou blinked and turned back to Trunks, Piccolo felt his heart falling. Of course not, that was impossible...
One of the pale, inhuman hands rested itself on Trunks' shoulder as the jinzouningen considered his options. It would be best to just apologize and forget about this, since he had the most peculiar feeling he was being watched. Still, Trunks looked helpless and agonized and scared, and it was all Juunana could do to keep himself from pulling the taller man against him and kissing his tears away...
Piccolo sensed the love emanating from the android suddenly, and his jaw dropped. A creature like that could love another? After a few more moments of staring, he returned his attention to his arms and discovered that the scars were gone. "What was that all about?" he wondered outloud.
Juunana-gou jumped as if someone had dropped a brick on his foot, and spun around, regarding ever corner of the room with suspicion. Piccolo, however, was too busy looking for scars to notice. Shakily, the jinzouningen licked his lips and spoke with a reasonably quaky voice. "Trunks, I didn't mean that."
No response.
"I know you loved him," Juunana-gou sighed, sounding as if he had resigned himself to that fact. "I just don't understand love in general, that's all."
"Neither did Piccolo," Trunks whispered. "He never knew what love was. He never loved my Gohan."
Piccolo bristled at that, clenching one fist at his side.
"And look where it got him," Juunana-gou scowled. "He killed himself."
Now Piccolo was slightly more interested at this turn in the conversation.
"He was stupid," Trunks mumered, eyes closed. "He should have let me have Gohan instead of keeping him and then losing himself," the tone was bitter. "He had everything I ever wanted and it still wasn't good enough for the stupid bastard."
Piccolo scowled. Somehow he was sure that wasn't what had happened, he had always appreciated Gohan. Then why had he gone and killed himself? It didn't make sense! He couldn't remember killing himself, let alone having any reason to kill himself. Still, he was a warrior, and there were only a handful of people on the planet that would stand a chance at killing him- out of them, there was only Trunks who would do it, and Piccolo felt very sure that he couldn't have died at the lavender haired boy's hand, since Trunks wouldn't want to (however inadvertantly) hurt Gohan.
Which meant he had to have killed himself.
Groaning in frustration, Piccolo watched in annoyance as Juunana-gou hovered near Trunks, always a few steps further than the boy obviously wanted to be. Piccolo smirked- maybe he should try to help the jinzouningen? It would be nice to not worry about Trunks stealing his lover- but then, what could a simple ghost do to influence the living?
It was with more questions than answers that Piccolo abandonded Capsule Corperation and returned home.
**
Videl was there again when he arrived, bringing tea up to Gohan's room. Piccolo stepped through the wall and took up his usual position, watching as Gohan blushed and handed the woman a thin stack of paper.
"What's...?"
"It's a story," Gohan murmered, embarrassed. "Kinda. And an apology too. And a lot of things." Piccolo missed hearing Gohan's well spoken words, since he had died Gohan had lost the air of a teacher and now acted like a surly teenager around guests.
Videl tucked herself up onto the bed and scan through the pages, Piccolo reading over her shoulder.
