The luminescence of the full moon shone through the trees, lighting up the blackness of the forest. Few animals were about. A single owl hooted in the darkness, cocking its head to one side. It was perched on a tree branch, and peered into the lonely gloom. The owl's yellow eyes flickered a moment, as if it knew something was there in the shadows. And, surprisingly enough, it was right. A lone figure emerged from the darker shade of a huge tree and moved into the light of the moon. Moonlight lit up the figure's face, but specific features weren't clear. One could tell, however, that this stranger was none other than Piccolo (judging by those ears…).
The owl hooted again, and spread its wings. It flew over him silently, on a search for mice. Piccolo watched it fly into the darkness, longing to fly away from this place and far away, to escape from the feelings that raged inside. He sighed. That wasn't possible. There was that child, waiting in a cottage nearby, patiently occupying himself until his father came home. The mother wasn't around anymore, and she never would be. Piccolo heaved another sigh as the owl hooted at him to go home. The Namekian began walking again, a little faster than before, but still slow nevertheless.
Finally, forever hidden by the trees, the familiar silhouette of the bathhouse in the side yard, with an even larger shape of a cottage behind it. A single bulb lit a room, where the boy with light brown hair sat crossed-legged, hovering, in deep meditation. Piccolo flew the little ways to the wooden sidewalk along the house and slid open the door to the room. The boy opened an eye.
"Bon kow wa (good night/evening), Otou-san (father)," he said.
"Night, boy," Piccolo replied.
The boy closed his eye again, though not quite resuming his meditation. Piccolo leaned against a wall and crossed his arms. He closed his eyes, trying to meditate, but couldn't quite get there, just like his son. Neither said anything for a while. They were just listening to each other; the sounds of breathing, the calm ki (energy), and the downhearted melancholy.
Where were you? the boy felt like asking, but he already knew the answer.
He just wanted to hear his father's voice again. One could never tell when he has a 'normal' family one moment, and the next, just him, his sister, and a father. His mother wasn't killed in any ordinary way either. It was a murderous act, one of which he could ever bring himself to forgive. However, he couldn't bring himself to forgive his mother either.
Why did you go? You could've stayed with us, Okaa-san (mom), you didn't have to go. I thought you'd come back, because you always did, and Onee-chan (little sister) always thought so, too. Where are you now, Okaa-san? Marissa keeps asking, and I don't know, but Otou-san won't tell us… Are you still around? Auntie Chi Chi keeps telling me and Marissa that Okaa-san is still with us, but I don't sense you anywhere… Are you listening to me, Okaa-san?
"Shouldn't you be in bed, boy," said Piccolo gruffly, "It's late."
"I never see you sleep," replied the boy.
Piccolo grunted.
"Did your sister go to sleep?"
"Yes, she went to bed hours ago… She asked where you were."
"What did you say?"
The boy opened both of his eyes now.
"That you were out looking for Okaa-san."
The other said nothing.
Nothing can revive synthetic life forms…
His son walked up to his father and stood on his toes. Piccolo opened his eyes to see what he was doing. To his surprise, his short, three-year-old son, was reaching up to him.
A hug!?
Piccolo smiled slightly. He bent down, picked up his son, and held him close. The boy wrapped his arms tightly around his father's neck and snuggled closer, almost afraid to let go. They stayed like that, for who knows how long. It could've hours, it could've been only seconds, but it felt over too soon as Piccolo lowered his son back to the ground. However, unwilling for the tenderness to go away, he ruffled his son's messy, brown hair…the same color as his mother's.
"Cut it out, Otou-san!" protested the boy, his hands rushing to his hair.
His Otou-san only hugged him quickly before giving a little push towards a hallway.
"Go to bed," he commanded, "Before I make you spar with me, little brat."
"Okay, okay!"
The boy jogged to the doorway. Before entering the hallway, though, he paused to look back. His smiling eyes gave Piccolo a wavering, silent "I love you." Piccolo couldn't help but notice the pink shade they had inherited…yet another famous trait of Sotari's…
"Yeah, I love you, too, boy."
The boy smiled.
"Thanks for coming home, Otou-san."
Piccolo grinned at him.
"Anytime. Anything else you want before you sleep?"
"Yeah…"
It was the boy's turn to smile.
"Tuck me in?"
"What!?"
"Just kidding! Night, Otou-san!"
The boy sprinted down the hall towards his room, leaving Piccolo still standing alone in the room.
"Good night, Naomitsu."