Disclaimer: DragonBall and DragonBall Z were created by Akira Toriyama and is copyright © Toei Animation and FUNimation. No infringement is intended.
Chapter 15
Live For Fun
A white and purple clad figure flew effortlessly through the air. The cape draped from his shoulders rustled and snapped in the wind created by the movement. Clouds parted as the person dove into them, the faint aura around him pushing the vapor away. Piccolo scanned the ground below. His eyes and ki sense were focused on one task: finding Goku.
The Saiyan warrior hadn't shown up either at Capsule Corp. or Dende's. Trunks hadn't returned as well. Piccolo had found that out with a quick ki sweep when he had gone back to speak with Brussi. There hadn't been even a lingering trace if they had come and gone.
The absence didn't sit well with Piccolo. It wasn't like Goku to stay away if there was a threat. That Trunks was also missing just added to the tension he felt.
Three familiar ki signatures drew his attention. They weren't flying, but were ahead, on the ground. Piccolo increased his speed and soon had the errant warriors in sight. Trunks was running around the perimeter of a large herd of mud covered cattle. The distressed moo of the bovine were loud enough to reach Piccolo's ears. Another, younger boy with a mohawk was mirroring Trunks' actions on the other side of the group of animals.
Goku himself was knee-deep in a mud hole the size of a small lake. One of the cattle was mired near the center, lowing pitifully. Piccolo descended until he was hovering several feet above the surface. His nose wrinkled as the pungent odor of cow, mud and sweat drifted around him.
Goku looked up, waved and said cheerfully, "Hey, Piccolo! What are you doing here?"
Piccolo grimaced as more of the foul smell wafted up. He sent a pointed look at Trunks. The teen caught the gesture and stuffed his hands into his pockets. His expression was sullen and his lavender hair was plastered with enough mud that it was hard to tell the color. A yell from the other boy drew his attention. Trunks yelped as the cattle began wandering off in different directions. He ran back, trying to keep the animals from stampeding away.
Piccolo frowned and returned his gaze to Goku, finally replying, "When you didn't show up I thought maybe there were enemies keeping you."
"Huh?" Goku appeared confused for a moment, then his expression brightened again. "Oh! No, since I didn't feel any high power levels, I figured you and Vegeta had it handled."
Goku reached down under the belly of the cow and out a wide, filthy strip of something. He hopped over the creature's back, trailing the long strap. His feet sunk down with a wet splurtch into the soft mud on the other side. He reached down again and brought up another strip.
Piccolo didn't bother to keep his disgust from showing. Wallowing in stinking muck wasn't what he would consider very dignified for a warrior. His voice was curt as he asked, "So you decided it wasn't important enough to come?"
"Don't be so harsh, Piccolo," Goku said, grinning. He tugged on the strips in his hands, nodded and floated upwards. "You and Vegeta can handle about anything I can. Besides, Dende contacted me a while ago and said there wasn't anything to worry about."
"He what?" Piccolo glared at Goku, though his anger was directed more at the younger Guardian. So Dende had known before he had even left the reason why Goku hadn't come. Damn it, that kid is becoming more like Kami every day, he grumbled to himself.
Goku continued, not seeming to have noticed Piccolo's irritation, "Trunks, Uub and I were coming until we came across this herd. The poor things were stuck in the mud."
Goku nodded towards the cow still standing in the large mud hole. The Saiyan rose higher into the air, pulling the straps he held tight. He continued his ascent, the straps stretched then lifted the animal out of the filth. The cow mooed again and flailed its legs.
"Hey, easy there," Goku said to the frightened animal. The straps were wound around his hands but they were slick. He gripped them tighter. "Don't worry, I'll let you down carefully. Then you and your friends can go home."
He continued floating upwards until he was level with Piccolo. He flashed a grin at his friend. "I think the ship coming down might have spooked them."
Piccolo really didn't care at the moment. He was too irritated with Dende and that awful smell wasn't helping his mood. He couldn't help covering his nose with his hand as more of the stench came off both Goku and the animal. Trying not to breathe more than he had to, he said, "I'm going back to Dende."
Piccolo backed off and had turned to leave when he heard a sharp riiip. He whirled around in time to see one of the straps give way under the weight of the cow. The helpless creature plummeted.
"No!" shouted Goku. He plunged downwards, using his speed to come under the cow. He managed to catch the animal but couldn't stop himself from being smacked into the mud below. Struggling against the suction of the muck, he wiggled up until he could poke his head out into the air. The side of the cow pressed against the back of his neck.
Goku opened one eye. He peered at Piccolo, who was still floating above the mud hole. He couldn't help grinning and chuckling a little at his green friend. Piccolo's front side was plastered with the smelly filth. The Namek warrior had his hands fisted at his sides. His brows were drawn low.
Goku grinned more and asked, "Think you could give me a hand, Piccolo?"
Piccolo snarled, baring his fangs. His first inclination was to leave the Saiyan where he was. It wouldn't take long for him to dig his way out. It would certainly serve him right for choosing to play savior to a herd of cattle. But Piccolo's own better nature won out and he extended his hand. Using his innate Namekian magic, he levitated the cow and set it down on solid ground.
Goku flared his ki, pushing the mud away and freeing himself. He flew back up to Piccolo. Slapping the Namek on his shoulder, he said, "Thanks, Piccolo. I wasn't sure how I was going to get us out without frightening the cow more."
Piccolo grumbled something, but Goku couldn't catch the words. The Namek's cheeks had taken on a purplish hue. Piccolo turned and this time managed to get away before something else happened. He heard Goku shout a cheery, "Goodbye!"
The mud caked on Piccolo's clothes and skin dried as he flew. He swiped at the offending mess, trying to dislodge some of it. He couldn't go back like this. Even if he conjured up new cloth, the smell would linger on his body. His nose wrinkled at the revolting thought. Studying the ground below, he tried to find an isolated river or lake.
A glimmer of clear blue off to the right caught his eye. He altered his course and headed for it. Soon, a medium sized lake located at the base of a cliff came into view. He paused in the air, searching the area for any signs of humans. There was no point in landing if he was going to be approached by some curious hiker.
Seeing no indication of anyone else, he descended onto the shore of the lake. A forest grew around the water. Long grass covered the stretch of land between the two. Piccolo scanned the area again, using all his senses except for smell. That one was too occupied with the stench coming off his own body. His ears picked up a rushing, pattering sound, like a full rain coming down.
Piccolo kept alert as he followed the sound. After a few minutes of treading along the shoreline, he came into the shadow of the cliff. The water bubbled near the base where the earthen wall meet the lake. A fine mist rolled through the air. Piccolo looked up a little and saw sparkling drops of water splash off rocks as a waterfall flowed over the side of the cliff.
This would do. He reached up and lifted his turban from his head. The cooled air felt refreshing on his slightly sweat moistened skin. His antennae flopped down into their natural positions. They tingled a little at the exposure, something he often felt when he first took off his headgear. He supposed they were sensitive from being protected so much by cloth.
Piccolo dropped the turban on the ground and tackled the shoulder pads next. He lifted them up, his sight cut off momentarily by the draped cloth around the collar. The gear was quickly dropped behind him with a muted thud. It wasn't that the pads were too heavy to hold, only awkward in shape. He hadn't designed them for convenience, except for what they offered in terms of training. He wasn't worried about damage. He had made them out of tough materials and the cloth was easily cleaned.
Piccolo pulled off his shoes next, setting them beside the turban. Then he straightened and loosened his belt. The strip of blue was dropped on top of the moccasins. His tunic quickly followed, dumped onto the growing pile. His pants were loose, so they slid off easily. He stepped out of them and left them where they were.
He decided to take a few seconds to stretch his muscles. They were tense from all the stress that day. He needed to regain his peaceful center if he was going to find the patience for guarding Dende. Especially after the kid had sent him on what amounted to a wild goose chase. There wasn't time for a decent meditation session. He would have to make do with a quick, relaxing bath instead.
Piccolo reached up with his hands, then brought them back down and rolled his shoulders. He tilted his head from side to side to release the tension in his neck. A few side stretches and he felt sufficiently loosened.
The Namek then waded into the cool water of the lake. The clear liquid swirled around his ankles as he headed for the waterfall. Little tendrils of thin mud trailed after him below the surface The lake bottom sloped steeply, quickly leading him into greater depths. By the time he reached the bottom of the fall, the water was waist high.
Piccolo ducked down under the surface. He waited a few seconds, letting the dried mud become moistened, before standing again. His hands scraped off any mud still clinging to his arms. With that done, he moved under the fall itself.
The cascading water drummed onto his skin. Gentle thumping eased his muscles further. He found the faint rushing roar of the fall calming. He placed his hands against the rock face and leaned forward, allowing the water to roll over his back. Then he straightened and pushed away.
Piccolo emerged from the waterfall considerably cleaner than before. He glanced at the sky, calculating how long he had been away. He could still catch a faint whiff of the stench from the mud. Deciding it wouldn't hurt to take a few more minutes, he raised his hand palm up. A clear, amber liquid pooled there.
Rubbing his hands together caused the liquid to foam. He spread the suds over his body, a clean light pine scent replaced the foul odor. Any mud that had been left was cleaned away when he once again submerged under the lake surface.
Piccolo straightened again, running his hands over his skin to rid it of whatever foam might still be clinging. He frowned when he saw faint purple lines crisscrossing his forearm. He rubbed his hand over them, they stayed in place. That was the arm that Mai had scratched during her attack. Dende had healed it and neither of them had noticed anything unusual. Why there should be marks left he didn't know.
He decided he would have to ask Dende once the Guardian was out of sight of his guest. Piccolo didn't want to risk setting her off. She didn't have very high ki, but her nails and fangs were sharp enough to cause some damage. It was also possible Mai could hurt herself or someone might hurt her trying to restrain her.
Piccolo shook off the thoughts. They reminded him he had spent quite enough time dallying. He scooped some more water in his hands, rinsing himself one last time. Then he headed back to the lake shore. The grass was sun warmed, the air slightly muggy away from the cooling currents around the waterfall.
Piccolo ignored the pile of dirty clothing for the moment. He raised his ki and dried himself quickly. He had never seen the point in using a cloth when either sun, campfire or ki would do just as well. The light pine scent increased as the water evaporated off his skin, then faded to an almost undetectable level.
Finally, he turned his attention to his fighting gi. Piccolo decided to forgo the ritual of manually clothing himself. He had already indulged himself too long. The simple actions brought him a little peace, reminding some part of his combined self of days that weren't spent worrying over when the next battle would be. He preferred to blame Nail for that bit of softness.
Instead, Piccolo once again used his Namekian magic. The pile of filthy cloth disappeared. Almost as quickly, new clothing came into being, already on his body. The soft fabric of his gi caressed his skin. The weight of his turban and shoulder pads settled on him. His cape fluttered down around his legs.
Feeling more centered, Piccolo hopped into the air. He flew straight for the Lookout. Trying to establish a telepathic link with Dende didn't work as he had hoped. The other acknowledged him, but didn't allow for more than a rapid exchange of bare thought, mostly to assure the returning warrior that there was nothing to worry about.
Piccolo did worry, the whole way back. The skin on his forearm itched slightly and it added to his irritation. He was beginning to wonder if the female Namek had brought some sort of alien disease with her. Normally, scratches like that wouldn't have taken more than a few minutes to heal on their own. He had only accepted Dende's help so that they could focus on the visitor instead.
Dende should have been able to pick up something like an infection. Then again, he had been distracted so he might have missed it. They both had been distracted. Piccolo growled a little. He had the feeling this newly discovered addition to Namek society was going to cause more troubles than he cared to deal with.