*gringringrin* I just found out that an acquaintance of mine at school is a rabid DBZ fan.
I'm currently trying to drag my muse out from underneath my desk. When he comes out, I'll let you know. Sorry for the wait…it's Finals Week. You know how that goes.
Disclaimer: I own the silver Piccolo and Gohan that stand between my speakers. Do they count?
Chapter Twenty-Seven
"Piccolo!" Goku shouted, barely ducking under the other warrior's fist. "Fight this! You don't have to do this!" He darted to the right as Piccolo brought both fists down where his head would have been.
The Namek's response was a small, intense ki ball thrown at his face.
Goku batted it away, reducing another pillar to rubble. "You've gotta be in there still! Come on!" He flew back to give himself more room to maneuver even as Piccolo charged forward again. When had Piccolo gotten this fast? Sure, he had probably been training while he was lost in space, but was it possible for even the green man to gain this much power in only one year?
Apparently so, Goku thought grimly, catching one of Piccolo's muscled arms and using their combined momentum to swing him around in a circle and release him off the edge of the Lookout.
"This isn't going well," the Saiyan muttered, beginning to gather his ki around him. "He's almost too fast."
Piccolo flew back into the fray and touched down on the lip of the tiled surface, his cloak flaring out behind him and completing the utterly chilling illusion of death. Of course, Goku thought miserably. That's what he was created for, wasn't it? My death?
"Come now, Goku," the Namek sneered, stalking forward again. "Surely you did not think the chance for such power would be overlooked, did you?"
"Whoever you are," Goku growled, "you made the wrong choice of victim. I'm the stronger one. I'm the Super Saiyan. You should have gone for me."
The thing – he did not want to even think of it as Piccolo – laughed. "That is where you are wrong, Goku. This one, Piccolo, has as much potential as you do. He is of two people; yet each time you have fought against him, you have only fought against half of what he is. Think of what he could have been combined."
The Saiyan was no idiot. Piccolo had been almost impossible to defeat at the last Tenka'ichi Budokai under Daimao's cloud, and he had been strong enough to hold back Frieza for a time on Namek. Once as demon, once as Namek. Goku could see where this was going, and his jaw dropped.
"Ah, so you see what I am saying."
Only half? Kami, he could have made minced meat out of me! Goku growled again at the cocky smile on the Namek's face, shifting his weight forward in his stance. "How long did it take you to talk him into it?" he asked slowly, narrowing his eyes in anticipation. "The Piccolo I know wouldn't have agreed to this."
The other warrior crouched down, making as if he would spring at any moment. "He never agreed."
"That's what I thought."
Both men lunged for each other at the same time, but Piccolo was the quicker of the two and scored the side of Goku's face with one taloned hand. The Saiyan swerved to the side and pressed the back of his hand to his cheek briefly, assessing the damage. It came away streaked with blood, but not heavily. Minimal injury. He dug his feet into the ground and propelled himself backwards into the green man. Piccolo was caught off-guard, and he was sent sprawling.
And suddenly he bellowed in pain and launched himself into the air, setting himself in a hover roughly his own height above the tiles. Goku had absolutely no idea what had happened – he didn't touch him, did he? – until he saw how the Namek's feet and knees were smoking. Wait a minute…smoking? And his hands, and forearms, and elbows…if the situation hadn't been so serious, Goku would have started laughing.
"What trickery is this?" the creature hissed, curling his body defensively. "What have you done?"
The Saiyan blinked at the demon and crouched, bringing his fists before his face. "I didn't do anything. You should ask Piccolo why you're smoking. Maybe he'll tell you." And maybe I'll make you mad enough to let Piccolo break free, like he did with that one hybrid, what's-his-name. Oh yeah, Morodath. Goku's lips quirked up in a small smile.
He was caught off-guard when the other warrior cursed loudly enough to startle Kami into awareness at the other end of the Lookout. "Foolishness!" he growled, glaring at the tiles as though they would attack him. "How could I have forgotten?"
"Forgotten what?"
It was the Namek's turn to be caught off-guard; apparently he had forgotten Goku was on the Lookout and currently engaged in battle with him. His head jerked up at the sound of the Saiyan's voice, and his eyes narrowed to glowing slits in the dark. "I am not through with you, Son Goku," he rumbled. "You will pay for what you have done, and what damage you have caused." Goku barely had time to react before Piccolo's aura flared up around him, darkly red as he burst into motion and launched himself away from the Lookout.
The Saiyan frowned at the retreating figure's ki trail. "I'd be hard-pressed to catch him at that speed."
"Do not try, Goku!" came Kami's voice just then, and Goku turned in time to see the Guardian struggle to his feet. The aged Namek gasped for air before he continued. "Do not allow him to corner you. He means to kill you once and for all, and he has sent his underlings to do the job."
"Who, Piccolo?"
The Guardian shook his head as Goku paced over. "No, Goku," he said, gazing worriedly in the direction the other Namek had taken. "Not Piccolo. We've been blind to the boy for such a long time, and now we're all going to pay the price for it. He hasn't quite been Piccolo since your battle with the hybrids, and I did not know it until it was too late." Kami cursed silently whatever idea had made him neglect Piccolo years ago. His mistake had caught up with him, and no matter what the cost, he had to correct it. Even if it meant his – and subsequently Piccolo's – life.
"It's Daimao, Goku," Kami continued quietly. "He's come for Piccolo, sent something to reclaim him, and this time you cannot stop him alone."
At the mention of the Demon Lord's name, Goku's eyes widened in shock. So many horrible memories were tied to that name, not the least of which was that final, momentous battle. In a spray of blood the young Goku had burst through Daimao's chest and put an end to his reign of terror on Earth, though the Demon Lord had thought to create one last progeny to carry out his desire. He'd had nightmares for months after coming face-to-face with that demon; at times he would still wake in a cold sweat, shivering from the nightmares Daimao had spawned. "How did he get the power to come back here?" Goku gasped. "I killed him! He should be in Hell!"
"He is." Kami met Goku's worried gaze with his own. "I fear Daimao has many allies in that place, and one of them has the power to influence the living realm. It is another demon, Goku, that has a hold of Piccolo, and it seeks to revert him back to what he once was. I have seen this in Piccolo's mind. Daimao wants Ma Junior, not Piccolo, and if we cannot free him from his grasp, he will be lost."
"This doesn't make sense, Kami," the Saiyan protested. "What does Daimao have against him?"
"He did not kill you, Goku. The sole reason for his creation was your death, and Daimao knows he no longer follows his orders."
Goku blinked. "But he still wants me dead. Then why isn't he coming after me now?"
"I'm not sure," the Guardian confessed. "I think it has something to do with whatever has control of Piccolo now. Piccolo must still be fighting against it, so its hold over him is not complete yet. It isn't quite strong enough yet…but it wouldn't not try something."
"You're right," Goku said, frowning. "Daimao…from what I remember of him, he spent all of his time on task. Whatever Piccolo is up to now, it's for a reason, probably to get stronger, or something like that." But that isn't it, he thought to himself, giving himself a mental kick. Focus, Goku! There has to be something out there that he wants. There has to be something for him to focus on!
A wry chuckle snapped the man out of his thoughts. Curious, he glanced at Kami to make sure the aging Namek had not lost his mind. Who would be laughing in this situation? Unless it was to break the atmosphere, but Kami was not that kind of person. Was he? "I assume you do not know why Piccolo was burnt by the Lookout."
"No," he answered, brushing the stated question aside. He was missing something, something about why that thing had taken off so quickly. So close…but what was it?
"The Lookout is a sanctuary, Goku. A sacred place. No demon or other evil can set foot on it without being repulsed. If he had stood there any longer, it would have burned through him." Kami's voice grew solemn once more as he continued. "The more he embraces his demonic nature, the worse the effect will be. If he was to come back here, you would have a great advantage."
Advantage… Wait a minute. Goku's mind raced, and he held up one hand to prevent Kami from interrupting. Advantage. He's searching for an advantage over me. He's faster now, but I'm still stronger, I think. Then what would he be looking for? He's got to know something, or else he wouldn't have taken off like that. What is it…
An image of a younger Gohan's smiling face changing to an expression of terror abruptly appeared in his mind's eye, followed closely by his brother's wicked smirk, one that almost rivaled that of Piccolo Daimao. Radditz had abducted his own nephew as an assurance that Goku would kill one hundred humans and leave their bodies on the sands of Master Roshi's island.
Chi-Chi and Gohan, standing over him in the hospital and smiling down at him, a few days after his epic battle with Vegeta. The very people he would give his life to protect were there, and he knew they were safe. Never again would he leave them for such a long time.
And the pit of Goku's stomach dropped at the same time his eyes widened.
Oh, Kami. No.
Kami was forced away by the sudden surge of ki around the Saiyan, and the resulting launch from the Lookout left him wondering what had occurred to make that man act in such a manner. He seemed desperate, wasting no time, vanishing from sight in a fraction of a second. What could it have been? The last thing he had said to him was about his advantage.
Then the Guardian happened upon the same train of thought that Goku had followed through, and he cursed in his native language. "Fly faster, Goku," he urged quietly, though Goku would never hear him, "or they are done for."
This body is so fast, so strong, once it accesses all its power, Shadow thought as he glided effortlessly through the sky, feeling the cold, crisp air against his face for the first time in years. No, wait, against Piccolo's face. Ma Junior, or so he should be called now. It will be an amusing game, to see why Daimao's heir no longer embraces this part of himself once Son Goku is gone. It was odd, flying so well without wings, or being able to inflict so much pain without cruelly-curved claws. No matter. The talons on the young demon would do just fine.
He danced among the clouds for a moment, reveling in the agility of the form he had taken over. They were black as pitch now, and heavy with moisture. But it would not rain, not if he did not want it to. This was his storm. He felt the corners of his mouth curl up over his fangs in a wicked smirk as he allowed lightning to streak across the sky. It felt wonderful.
It hadn't been that hard to seize control of the demon half of the boy, the demon mused. It would have been much, much worse if the hybrid warriors had not made good use of their serums. The young demon had mental shields stronger than his sire's smoldering gaze. Shadow still found himself wondering how much luck had to do with it, rather than skill, but he dismissed the idea out of hand. It was Ma Junior's fault that he had not been quick enough – or clever enough – to avoid being sprayed with a weakening serum. Ah, but it had left him such a perfect opening, and he had never been one to miss out on such an opportunity.
Isn't that right, Ma Junior? he asked teasingly of the warrior imprisoned within his own mind.
The response from the Namek was explosive, and Shadow grinned with his stolen mouth at his attempts to break free. So pathetic. Between himself and the Seer, he would never throw him out of his mind. You aren't answering me. At least I was thoughtful enough to respond, be a good little voice inside your head. Will you not do the same? Return the favor, so to speak?
"Or do you respond only to force, or violence? Yes, it would be expected of a son of Daimao, a prince of demons. But you never were one to follow orders, were you, boy?" A soft growl rumbled up from his throat. "I know you are still listening, Ma Junior. Or should I call you Piccolo? No matter. What do you think so far? Do you like what I have done? The changes that I have made?"
He smirked again at the futile mental thrashing the Namek put up. Well, he supposed, if I was locked in my own mind by something sent by my sire, I would be pissed off as well. Though I am growing weary of his outbursts. He furrowed his brow at the rage and loathing the warrior emitted.
"I thought you did not like Son Goku," Shadow mumbled.
Stop this madness, demon, Piccolo finally growled.
"So you have decided to speak up for once. I was beginning to think you had given up." He laughed as Piccolo raged behind his barrier. "Or Son Chi-Chi, for that matter. What do you think, boy?"
No. You wouldn't dare.
"I do dare, and I will. She has spited your name long enough, Ma Junior. She must be made to regret it."
Leave her out of this! She has nothing to do with it!
"She has everything to do with it. Oh, wait, that's right. You don't want to hurt her, feel her blood on your hands as she shrieks for mercy on the cold ground, because of the brat. The one who did this to you. Son Gohan."
Shadow shifted in the air and changed direction. "You really ought to make him pay for what he has done to you. Son Goku won't be there, and the boy should be easy enough to take on. I think that is what we shall do. What a game it would be…I might even give you temporary control again, as your hand delivers the fatal blow. What would it be like, Ma Junior, to stare into the frightened eyes of the one being who cares for you as he sees who you really are, the betrayal that you have wrought?"
Leave him alone! the Namek screamed, pushing aside pride and his cold mannerisms in the face of the worst kind of danger. So help me, if you do anything to Gohan, I will rend your mind to pieces, then find the bastard who sent you and tear him apart!
"So you do have some Daimao left in you after all. There's hope for you yet, boy. Let's get started, then. How to turn a weakling into a true warrior…this shall be more amusing than I thought." And Shadow tuned out the rest of Piccolo's threats as he drew ever closer to the Son residence.
Gohan sat straight up in his mother's arms and stared out the hole in the roof at the stars above. Off in the distance he heard the muffled roar that was the thundering of an oncoming storm. Already it was getting colder, and he rubbed at his arms to rid them of their prickly feeling – though he doubted they felt that way because of the storm. There was something very, very wrong heading their way.
"Thank Kami, you're all right," Chi-Chi breathed, smiling gently at her only son.
Gohan squirmed in her grasp, and she released him, only to have him lunge to his feet. "Mom, you have to hide," he hissed. "There's something coming, and it's not dad. I can't…really…tell…who it is, but their ki feels weird. It's headed right for us."
Chi-Chi pushed herself to her knees and frowned. "How strong is it?" she asked.
"Very strong. Stronger than Frieza, I think, and almost as strong as dad. But I'm not sure. The ki…mom, it feels so familiar, but it's not. I don't know." Gohan stared at the door, almost positive that it was the place this unknown adversary would enter through.
"If this person is really that strong, would it matter if I hid or not? If they can sense ki, they already know I'm here." Chi-Chi gritted her teeth when her son gulped. "It won't matter, Gohan. Tell me if you can sense your father."
Gohan blinked. "He's on the Lookout, I think, with Kami. No, wait, he just left. He's coming this way too, chasing the other big ki? He is!"
Chi-Chi sighed. "How fast? Who's going to get here first?"
It was the child's turn to frown. "The other guy," he muttered. "He's so fast, he's even faster than dad. That's not good."
"How close are they?"
Gohan gulped again. "The other guy's almost here, mom," he said in a whisper. "And he's very, very angry. Dad's not gonna make it in time. But…" his voice rose a notch with hope, "…Piccolo is close, too. I think. I can't feel him that well." A frown settled on his face. "I think he's hiding his ki. Maybe he'll be here to help. Krillin's moving around, too, by the Capsule Corp, if that's where Bulma and Yamcha are."
Suddenly he gasped, and fell back into a lunge in front of his mother. "It's here, mom. Please, just hide."
The foreign ki spiked in front of the door, and even Chi-Chi was able to feel the presence on the other side of the flimsy wooden boards. "No, Gohan," she whispered. "He knows I'm here. It's too late."
With a protesting groan and a loud crack, the door was torn roughly from its hinges and a shadowed figure loomed in the doorway, black against the lightning that crackled through the sky. "Yes, it is too late. But it does not matter, you know, because I would have found you no matter where you went. A small matter of retribution, I believe, is in order, Son Chi-Chi."
Kami, that voice is so familiar! Who is he? she thought, kicking herself for her faulty memory. "We don't want any trouble," the woman said boldly, more so than she felt. "You should leave before my husband comes home."
He must have caught the quaver in her voice, because he chuckled, a sinister sound that split the silence of the house as effectively as the thunder outside. "But I do want trouble," he said. "You've been tarnishing my name for a long time, woman, and it's time to end that. And as for Goku, he'll just have to miss our little party."
Gohan scooted between this strange yet familiar figure and his mother. "Leave my mom alone," he growled.
"Don't get yourself involved, Gohan. I do not want you dead yet. If you knew what was good for you, you would have crawled up to your bed and hidden under the covers a long time ago."
The boy narrowed his eyes and brought his fists before his face. "I'm no coward. Fight me, then, before my dad gets back," he challenged. "Or are you afraid?"
The figure almost hesitated. Almost. But then it laughed darkly and stepped into the light, enjoying the startled expressions on both woman and child. "I warned you, boy. This is not a fight you will win. But if you feel inclined to die first, then so be it."
Gohan watched helplessly as Piccolo's aura began to swirl around him violently, red and orange and black. "Oh, Kami," he breathed silently. "Piccolo, no…please don't do this." But he knew his mentor was not listening, for as the Namek advanced he smirked, and Gohan knew it had come down to battle. One decisive skirmish, and he had no idea why.
He readied himself the best he could, keeping himself between the obviously enraged Namek and his mother, and hoped he would survive the initial rush.
* * * * *
*long, low whistle* This chapter just ran away with me. It was not supposed to be this long, but I suppose that doesn't matter much, does it? Well, my exams are done tomorrow, so hopefully I shall have the next chapter up in a week. Later!
~Dreamwraith