Disclaimer: If I owned it, I could draw it better.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Staring down at the darkening Earth, Kami felt Goku's ki surge as he approached the Lookout. "Popo," he said to the djinn who stood behind him, "would you be kind enough to bring me two glasses of water? I feel I will be talking for quite some time today."
"Yes, Kami," Mr. Popo replied, turning away from the Guardian. "Would you like me to leave them on the table for you?"
"Please," the Namek said. His attention returned to Goku's ki. He seemed to be worried about something, and Kami had a fairly good idea of what Goku was worrying about. There was little on the planet that concerned the Saiyan anyway, and Piccolo was among that minority.
It was well past sunset now, and Goku had probably snuck off the island to make this trip. The Guardian then chuckled. He was only sneaking away from Oolong, Roshi, and Chi-Chi. Everyone else currently inside (or around) could sense ki, and his departure would have been keenly felt and perhaps marked as unusual behavior.
With a burst of ki, Goku landed next to Kami on the tiled floor.
"Greetings, Goku," the aging Namek said, turning his head toward the Saiyan. "What brings you here?"
The Saiyan sighed. "It's about Piccolo," he told the Guardian, who nodded wordlessly. "You told me and Krillin to let you know if anything seemed different about him. Something happened at dinner today, and I don't know what it was. Maybe you can help." Goku glanced up at Kami, his eyes troubled.
A cold blast of wind rushed across the Lookout and past the two men. Kami did not feel it much, due to his ancestry and a lifetime of living with the wind, but Goku shivered and broke out into goosebumps. Kami noticed this. "Would you care to tell me about it inside, out of the wind?"
"Sure."
Within the span of a few minutes the Guardian of the Earth and the planet's strongest defender were seated in what could have passed for a Namekian dining room, with only a small table and four chairs. Two glasses of water were already set on the table, one on each end of the circle, apparently for the two men.
"Now, Goku, tell me what is wrong." Kami quelled his rising panic when the man gulped. Anything that could make the strongest fighter in this quadrant of the universe gulp could not be good.
"Well, he woke up earlier today, and me n'Gohan n'Krillin took him fishing," and here Kami's lips quirked up in a smile which soon faded, "and he kept looking around like someone was saying something too quiet for the words to be heard. And then during dinner he was meditating, I think, and he jumped out of it and almost knocked the table over. I don't know why. He's never done that before."
The Namek shook his head and sighed. "No, he has not," he agreed, taking a sip of water from his glass.
"Do you know what's wrong with him?"
"To be honest, Goku, I am not sure. I have my suspicions, but I will not be able to see if I am correct unless Piccolo lets me into his mind. And that surely will not happen."
"Oh." Goku reached for his own water and downed it all in one gulp. "Does it have something to do with what you said before, about him being vulnerable and all?"
The Guardian nodded wordlessly, a gesture not meant to be reassuring. And Goku was not reassured. "It would also mean that the psi-down has almost completely worn off. Perhaps it was created to run its course in a set length of time."
"That's a good thing, right?"
"It is, Goku. For him. I will not need contact with him to enter his mind." Kami heaved a deep sigh. "I fear he will not let me, though." He then glanced over at the Saiyan, who looked as though he was hanging on every word. "Would you be able to find out what is bothering him?"
Two eyebrows shot up, and Goku nearly fell out of the chair. "Me?" he squawked. "He talks more with Gohan than he does with me!"
Kami chuckled. "Son Goku, from what I have seen and heard, he trusts you more than both of you know. Especially himself. You have nothing to fear from him now." His smile faded at the mention of time. Now, he thought. If something happens to Piccolo now, our situation would be very desperate indeed.
"In that case, I should get back to the Kame House," Goku said simply, standing up and stretching before pushing his chair in. "Chi-Chi'll kill me if she finds out I left to come here. Thanks for listening, Kami. Good night!" The man waved as he walked to the edge of the Lookout and dove off it head-first.
"Why didn't you tell him the whole thing, Kami?" came Mr. Popo's voice from behind him.
Kami heaved another deep sigh. "I couldn't do it, Popo, because he would never have believed me. If I told him I feared that Piccolo was reverting, Goku and the others would accuse me of harboring hatred against him."
"But you don't hate him, do you?"
"No, Popo," he said softly, "I don't. As much as the boy frustrates me, I could never bring myself to actively hate him. Not as he is now. But if what I fear comes to pass, I will have no choice."
Neither the djinn nor the Namek wished to break the silence that followed, as uncomfortable as it was. For Kami's last phrase echoed in the stillness: I will have no choice…
Goku woke up early the next morning to talk with Piccolo, taking care to not wake Chi-Chi. It would be their last day on the island, because he was strong enough to fly Chi-Chi home now without falling. He eased himself off the couch as quietly as he could and opened his mind to the ki around him.
The Saiyan sighed as he stood up. Piccolo was not upstairs. On the contrary, he was outside on the beach somewhere. Goku wasn't too worried about that; his ki seemed normal enough, and it wasn't fluctuating. It actually felt at peace, resting, and the man smiled. Piccolo was peaceful so rarely, at least from what he'd seen of the other man. In fact, he seemed almost a bit too peaceful. Rabble-rouser? I think not. But so close… A mischievous smirk formed on Goku's face, and his eyes gleamed. This could be fun.
The man tip-toed his way out the door, taking great pains to make sure that the door did not slam or that the floorboards did not creak. And all without using ki, too. Goku had never thought it could be such a challenge before this day. It took him four minutes to cross a room and walk across a porch, all in the name of stealth. It wasn't even foolproof; Piccolo had extremely good hearing, and any noise at all, even one Goku himself might not be able to hear, would alert the Namek to his plan.
If anyone could have seen him, they would have thought he had lost his mind; the Saiyan lifted each foot almost waist-high in his care, both arms bent at the elbows and held out for balance. His head was ducked to his chest, and his chest was puffed out with the air he had sucked in and was now holding. Goku could see it all now…Good Kami, Son, Piccolo would bellow, what is wrong with you? The Saiyan then frowned as he scooted off the porch and onto the sand. Well, Piccolo wouldn't say exactly that, but it was the main point, so did it really matter?
Goku peeked his head around the corner of the Kame House and spotted the Namek under the tree, seated in the sand. Seated? The Saiyan did a double-take. Yep, he wasn't floating today. And he didn't have his cape on, either. Not that he blamed him. Piccolo had been through enough, and he probably didn't have the energy to spare. But he was holding the lotus position, so it couldn't be all that bad.
Goku grinned. This would be a piece of cake! Piccolo wasn't even looking in his direction, and he hadn't given any indication of hearing him, so he was still undiscovered. And he planned to keep it that way. He slowly crept up behind the unsuspecting Namek, stopping a mere hand's breadth away from him, and just as slowly, carefully, crouched down until he was level with him. Kami, he's gonna kill me, Goku thought. He opened his mouth, stifling a laugh, and shrieked as loud as he possibly could: "LOOK OUT!"
Later, Goku would tell Krillin and Gohan what he had seen, after the furor had died down. Somehow, he didn't know how, Piccolo managed to leap roughly four feet into the air from his lotus position on the ground – without the use of ki – and landed with his right hand outstretched, sparking with ki gathered in a panic. And the look on his face…Goku could not say if he had ever seen the Namek actually shocked into speechlessness, but the expression he had now was definitely that. How he wished he had brought a camera with him. The picture alone would have been worth a trip to the emergency room.
The Saiyan laughed outright at Piccolo, holding his stomach with one hand and pointing at him with the other. "Gotcha, Piccolo! You should see your face! You look like you're going to keel over any second now!"
Piccolo quickly recovered from the shock. "What the hell do you think you're doing, Goku?" he roared, reluctantly lowering his hand and allowing the ki to dissipate. "Are you that anxious to die again?" Then he winced, the pain from stretching and breaking open healing wounds hitting him.
Goku was still convulsing with laughter. "But it was worth it! You outta lighten up, Piccolo."
"I will not 'lighten up'," Piccolo growled back, "and unless you wish to die, you will not do that again."
"Okay," the Saiyan replied cheerily. He sounded sincere enough, but one look in his eyes and his ploy was ruined. Goku never had been very good at disguising his emotions. So it was obvious to the green-skinned warrior when the Saiyan grew serious. "But I do want to talk with you, Piccolo."
When the Namek made no attempt to leave, and simply folded his arms in front of him, Goku took it as a sign to start talking. "I was wondering, how did you get up so quick yesterday night? How did you make it look so easy?"
Piccolo snorted and sank back down into the sand. "The eye of the beholder, Goku."
The Saiyan made no attempt to hide his confusion. "What is that supposed to mean?" he asked.
"Do you seriously believe it was easy?" Piccolo growled. "In case you haven't noticed, I am not yet healed," and here Goku finally noticed faded streaks of violet near the edges of the white cloth, and he shuddered. The marks looked fresh. His Saiyan mind also registered that it would probably hurt, too, and he bit back his offer of sparring.
"Oh," he said. "Well, then, I'll get back to you when you're better about a spar."
The Namek humphed and closed his eyes, signaling that his half of the discussion had come to an end.
"Me and Chi-Chi an' Gohan are going home today, too, Piccolo," Goku added, wondering when the other warrior would make the attempt to throttle him, and then continued. "I was wondering if you'd like to come."
For a moment, the Saiyan thought Piccolo hadn't heard him, but the other man opened his eyes again and growled. "Your wife would not appreciate it, Goku, and I have no desire to meet with this frying pan you so fondly speak of."
Goku laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his head. "Oh, yeah, sorry, forgot about that."
The response came as a grunt, and Goku bit back a sigh. Piccolo was definitely done talking now. "Well, I'll be up here again tomorrow, and I'll bring Gohan with me," he said, turning around and walking back to the Kame House. "Just let us know if you need anything, Piccolo." And Goku climbed up the stairs and through the door, leaving him alone under the tree.
Piccolo cracked open an eye when he felt Goku's ki enter the house. Good, he thought. He's gone.
Because I have an attitude problem.
Feh. Attitude problem. At least my control over ki is returning, though slow enough. I didn't lose control of that ki ball. And if Goku hadn't been suppressing his ki, I would have caught him, too.
Piccolo sighed in relief. He had been away from the world for far too long, his senses numbed and muddled. It was infuriating, not being able to reach out for Gohan and the others, to make sure they were all still alive and well. It was even worse trying to feel them through the fog that his thoughts had become. He was glad, truly glad, that the psi-down was wearing off. Although he had probably given Goku a good scare himself when he'd whirled around with a ki ball. Hell, he hadn't expected it himself.
Of course not.
That voice was becoming aggravating.
The Namek growled to himself as he stood up, taking care to brush the sand off his gi pants. If whoever it was did not stop harassing him within the next few days, he would go to Kami about it.
The jade-skinned warrior shuddered to himself and bit back an involuntary snarl. He hated dealing with Kami. And that would make it all the worse for him, when the Guardian saw that he needed help dealing with a voice in his mind.
What if it was Nail? Or even some other Namek, who had taken to driving him up the wall? His 'uncle' would never let him live it down if the voice belonged to either of them. And yes, he did mean 'uncle'. Kami could call him 'son' or 'nephew', because he was technically both, but it did not mean he would call the old man his father. It couldn't be farther from the truth. Piccolo had no real father.
"Fine," Piccolo spat, closing his eyes and leaning back against the tree. "If that is what it will take to rid me of my overactive imagination, then so be it. But if something is searching my thoughts…"
That's the spirit.
You had better come up with a damn good explanation for yourself.
No better than yours.
Gohan's laughter was heard from inside the kitchen, and Piccolo smiled in spite of himself. At least life was finally returning to some semblance of normalcy.
* * * * *
To be honest with you, it wasn't the dynamite that helped. It was lots and lots of caffeine. And more than a little help from the Matrix Reloaded soundtrack. Mmm, chocolate.
So I should apologize for not being able to update. My concentration is shot from school, and I refuse to write if I can't do it justice. I should have the next chapter out after the weekend, but who knows? Only the Ding-Dongs and Pepsi can tell…
~Dreamwraith