Disclaimer: DragonBall and DragonBall Z were created by Akira Toriyama and is copyright © Toei Animation and FUNimation. No infringement is intended.
He's not there.
Feh. Of course he's not there.
Must be getting senile.
It's quiet, all I hear is the crackling of the campfire. The light plays across my closed eyelids. The space around me is empty, some clearing I picked out when I was tired of training for the day. The wild animals are gone, run off by the presence of some creature they can't understand. I smirk at that. Most humans would react the same way. They'd scream and tear out so fast I might even have trouble tracking their retreat. Amusing... in a way. But useful. It means they'll leave me alone.
So why the hell do I notice he's not there?
That bit of ground never meant anything before. It was just dirt, like the rest of it. Soil and grass and weeds. A surface to step on. Nothing more.
It never seemed empty before.
I shift, restless, trying to find a more comfortable position. It's not physical discomfort, though, damn it. It's inside, like an itch. I hate it. I can't get rid of it. My ears keep twitching. They keep waiting for that inevitable sound. A snore, maybe, or a rustle of movement. Or a whine. Damn it, he was always whining. Or babbling in that cheery voice.
The wind picks up and the campfire flares. An ember lands on my arm, smoldering for a few seconds before it burns out. I flick it off in annoyance. The skin is already healing.
I try to focus my thoughts. Night is when I meditate, when I go over the day's training and pick apart my techniques with brutal honesty. I'm trying to refine my ki attacks, they still take too long to charge up.
I can't concentrate.
Damn it. Damn it all to Hell.
It's been a while. It's been days since I've been assaulted with that annoying "Piccolo-san!" and his attempts to ambush me. He never succeeds. He's too damn loud. He might as well be stomping all the way. I can't get it through that thick half-Saiyan skull of his that he needs to learn stealth.
It's embarrassing. I should have taught him better. Should teach him better. Next time he tries it, he'll have a full out spar on his hands. I grin slightly at that. Heh. We'll see if he learns what noise gets him.
It probably won't do any good.
He'll laugh afterwards. I never understood that. Insane kid, laughing while nursing his wounds. Chattering happily as if it were nothing but a game that he lost.
Gets it from his father.
...except he hasn't been chattering quite so much lately. It's not the same. He's too quiet sometimes. And he doesn't laugh so easily.
I growl a bit. Isn't that an improvement? Maybe he'll stop being such a nuisance. Maybe he'll train seriously. Maybe he'll quit that sniffling he tries to hide. Maybe he'll start to take after...
I scowl.
And where the hell is Goku?
Feh. It doesn't matter. Why should it? He'll return when he returns. Pointless to waste time thinking about it. Tomorrow I'll go over and face that loud mouthed woman he calls a wife. I'll drag that kid out of that house. I'll make sure he doesn't forget to train.
It's probably all her fault anyway.
That he's not here.
Hmph. That's settled. I try to focus again. I pull the memories of the day's training and start to shift through them. I see the holes, the mistakes. I replay them over and over until I find the perfect solution. It takes hours, but I don't pay attention to the exact time. The night passes on. The fire dies down.
Or it should.
Why hasn't the fire gone down?
I open my eyes. The campfire flares, the flames reaching higher than they did even when it was first lit.
I scowl again. What the hell is going on? My gaze sweeps around, looking for any intruders.
There's no one. No ki other than a few of the braver animals.
Damn it. What the hell? A shiver runs down my spine. A sensation that echoes something I've felt before. I raise my eyes and peer across the fire. It's the only place...
There's something on the other side. I can't see it, but I can... tell. I push to my feet, glaring. Through the dancing flames there's flashes of movement. Something opposite of me. The fire distorts the shape.
"Who are you?" I demand.
I don't get an answer. Between the fire peaks I see black, like eyes but not eyes, and a flash of gold and green. It's swaying.
I clench my fists and bare my fangs. "Tell me who you are!"
No answer.
Except for a thin sound. Like a wail heard from far away. It goes through my head.
I gather ki in my hand, shooting through the fire. The flames split, curving around the streak of energy, tatters of red flashing into the dark. The attack impacts and tears through the trees on the other side. Splinters of wood rain down. I take the opening to leap over what's left of the campfire.
But there's no one.
It's gone.
Damn it.
I'm breathing like I've had a decent fight. My chest raising and falling in a quickened pace. My teeth ache from being clenched. That sound repeats itself in my head. I growl, shaking it off.
I search the area.
Nothing.
I stand in the clearing again, the remnants of the campfire almost out. There's something about this. Something familiar. I just can't place it.
The whole damn thing annoys me. It's almost morning. Whatever it was, it's gone. Feh. I've got better things to do than wonder about some phantom.
There's a certain half-Saiyan kid who needs to train.