Bulma sits down next to a heavily bandaged Yamcha on the steps of Kami's temple. She passes a steaming bowl of green mush to him. He struggles against the medical wraps constricting his right arm all the way down to his waist.
"This stuff tastes terrible you know," he says.
"Yeah, you say that every time," she says. "It's supposed to help, though."
"If by help you mean keep me awake because of the awful smell, then I'd say it's doing its job."
Bulma smiles and watches him try to gag down the meal. He eagerly talks between bites to avoid the next one.
"I mean, I'm glad I'm back on my feet and all, but I really need to get back to training."
"I know you do, but you need to rest. And it's nice we can spend some time together without feeling like the weight of the world is on our shoulders."
He looks at her.
I wasn't strong enough to beat that guy on my own, he thinks. And the Saiyans will be worse. I don't have time for relaxing right now. How else will I protect Bulma and the others?
He knows better than to say so aloud. Instead he stomachs the last two clumps of mossy seaweed and sets the bowl down. He stretches his good arm around her shoulders and pulls her close. Their tired lips kiss before she places her head on his shoulder so her forehead presses gently into his neck.
Yamcha watches Krillin who stands near the edge of the floating platform. He keeps making disc shaped ki formations and throwing them out into the open sky where they inevitably break apart in a shower of sparks.
###
Chiaotzu helps Mr. Popo prepare another batch of medicinal tonic for Kami and Tien, who still lies unconscious in the infirmary room. His usual hat is replaced with bandages all over his head. One eye hides behind a cottony bulge beneath the angled wrappings.
"He's going to be okay, right?" says Chiaotzu.
"He'll live," says Mr. Popo. "… But I'm not sure he will ever fully recover from the damage he did to his body … hand me that bottle."
"I see …"
Chiaotzu's eyes glaze over as his hands move on instinct to mix ingredients together. His lungs start to hyperventilate. He throws out the first thing he can think of.
"And how is Kami doing?"
"His injury affected several vital areas, but he should heal in time … now the other please."
Chiaotzu watches the caretaker's hands work. When he finishes, Mr. Popo leaves with two of the four bowls filled with a mint smelling liquid. Chiaotzu brings the remaining ones to Tien's bedside and lifts his head. He tips the bowls against Tien's lips so the potion trickles down his throat.
Mr. Popo meanders down a maze of halls until he finds Kami in a dimly lit room. The Guardian lies beneath thick covers on a large bed.
"How are you feeling Kami?"
His antennae twitch as his eyes slide open. He slips a hand over the wound in his side and rubs tenderly.
"I've been through worse," he says. "You know that."
Kami tries to sit up but collapses to his back. Mr. Popo sets down the bowls and helps his friend lean against the backboard of the bed.
"Yes but you were much younger then," says Mr. Popo. "Now how are you really feeling?"
Kami sighs.
"Extremely tired and the stabbing pain hasn't really gone away at all."
"I see. Well I've prepared something different today. Hopefully it does a better job."
"Thank you Mr. Popo."
He takes the bowl handed to him and begins to sip from it.
"You know," he says, "there is one thing I'm optimistic about."
Slurp.
"What's that?"
"When I transferred some of my ki to Piccolo, I felt a goodness in him I did not expect. There's still a lot of turmoil, but for the first time I'm hopeful about his existence."
"You think he will be trustworthy one day?"
"I don't know, but it's not something I ever thought I'd even consider. Life truly has a way of surprising you."
Mr. Popo does not share in the same smile Kami gives as he continues to drink.
"I do wish I could get more than mere glimpses of the world after this tragedy. But I'm too exhausted to watch for more than a couple minutes at a time. And there is so much pain and suffering. It saddens me deeply."
"It's okay to let them work through this catastrophe themselves. You won't be of any use to them until you fully recover."
"I know. Thank you for the reminder. Even if I don't want to believe it. That's how things will need to be done."
Kami tips his head all the way back and then offers the bowl for the next one.
###
Chichi appears from the stairs to the lower level of Korin's residence. Yajirobe's nose inflates to absorb the smell of freshly cooked food in a pot she carries. Gohan comes up behind her with bowls and chopsticks. The samurai and cat eagerly take their dishes as they are served.
"You spoil us Chichi," says Korin. "I used to live on a humble diet of only Senzu Beans and uncooked food, but I doubt I can ever go back to such bland meals after what you make."
"You ain't kidding," says Yajirobe. "I only ever ate meat roasted over a fire and hated vegetables. But the spices and seasonings you use make them tasty."
"Thank you both," says Chichi. "Gohan helped me make this batch."
Her eyes watch Gohan prepare a second bowl after the one she served him. He walks over to Piccolo who meditates on the railing, eyes closed. She raises a hand as he goes, but hesitates to call out to him. She follows slowly after him as he approaches the demon who tried to kill her husband.
"Mr. Piccolo," says Gohan. "I brought you some food."
He holds the bowl out before him. Piccolo slits his eyelids open.
"I don't want any."
"But it's good for you. It'll help you recover."
Gohan steps forward and pushes the bowl even closer. The back of Piccolo's hand slaps hard against his own. The food splashes along the floor as the bowl clatters to it.
"I said I don't want any!"
Piccolo now stands over the boy who holds a reddening hand. Gohan whimpers and drags himself backward slowly.
"We should be training," says Piccolo. "Not wasting our time sitting arou—"
Chichi slaps him across the cheek. Piccolo stares in the direction his head now faces, too stunned to turn back to the woman.
"You ought to be ashamed of yourself," she says. "When someone shows you kindness, you return it. Your behavior is completely unacceptable."
Piccolo snaps his head back in place. He raises a hand as if to strike the woman. Chichi does not flinch at the motion. He catches a glimpse of Gohan's terrified expression and lowers the hand to rub his cheek.
"I only need water for sustenance," says Piccolo.
"I don't care," she says. "Now apologize to Gohan for being so disrespectful."
"What? You can't be serious."
"I'm completely serious. I shouldn't have to teach you manners, but I will if you're going to act like a child."
"I hardly did anything to him. He just needs to toughen up if that really hurt his feelings."
Chichi glares.
Piccolo grumbles out a few words.
"So he can hear you," says Chichi.
"I'm sorry Gohan."
Piccolo crosses his arms and flicks his chin away.
"It's okay Mr. Piccolo," Gohan says. "I'm sorry too. I know you want us to get back to training soon. It's just been nice seeing my mom again."
"No," says Chichi.
Gohan and Piccolo both look at her.
"I will not allow my son to go off and train with someone so brutish."
"But mom, we have to get ready for the Saiyans."
"I said no. It's bad enough your father is going to fight again. And if need be I'll get involved too, but I will not let my baby boy join another dangerous battle."
She kneels beside her son.
"I mean look at you," she says, holding his face in her hands. "You've already grown so much in the last few months. You're almost a completely different person. You're not even old enough for a growth spurt. I'm missing out on precious moments I'll never get back."
"You'll miss out on more than that if you don't let your son prepare for the Saiyans," says Piccolo. "We wouldn't have defeated Garlic Junior without him. The same will be true with them."
Chichi looks at him. Her eyes scan every inch of his expression. She feels out the intentions of his ki. She sighs.
"I suppose since I'm training he can too," she says.
Gohan breaks into a smile.
"But you have to do it here, and it's only so you can defend yourself if you absolutely have to. I don't want you going into battle."
"Good," says Piccolo. "Now that that's settled, we can get started."
"Hold on," says Chichi. "My son is still recovering. And I can tell you are too. You can push yourself as hard as you want, but Gohan will maintain proper rest and recovery between sessions."
"There won't be any pampering when the fighting starts. No breaks either," says Piccolo.
"I'm well aware of how a fight works. But I still don't trust someone who kidnapped my son, so we're going to do this my way."
"You're infuriatingly stubborn. I don't know how Goku can stand to live with you. It must be torture."
"And I need you to promise me that you will protect Gohan no matter what."
Piccolo feels Chichi's ki rise. It carries an emotional pitch he does not recognize. And yet, he realizes it is the same one sprouting tiny roots within himself.
"I can't control what happens during the chaos of battle, so why would I promise something like that. Why would you even bother doing it yourself?"
"Because that's what you do when you love someone."
Piccolo squints his eyes. His stomach churns. He bears his fangs.
Chichi's ki pushes against his as it forms a wall to keep out the intruding life force. A calming, cool liquid seeps through the cracks of his defenses. It drips into the deepest reaches of his mind and heart. He wants the uncomfortable presence out.
"I promise to protect your son," he says. "But only so we can repel the Saiyans."
Chichi searches his feelings a moment longer. Satisfied with what she finds, she withdraws her ki. She smiles.
"There, was that so hard?"
Piccolo grunts.
###
Goku searches erratically for his opponent, high over the ground. Bardock drops from above drilling an elbow between his son's shoulder blades.
The cry of pain draws a smile from Bardock as he descends upon the crashing victim. He stomps an armored boot to smash the target into the ground.
Goku lands on all fours and shoots off from the spot, barely avoiding the foot. He looks back to find Bardock bounding after him. A knee slams into his spine. He hits the ground and heaves heavily into the dirt, making no attempt to get up.
"Come on," says Bardock. "We're just getting started for the day. I'm on borrowed time in this body, and I intend to get the most out of it."
Goku lifts his head and glares at his father.
"No. I'm not doing this anymore."
"Not doing what? Fighting? But you love fighting."
"I enjoy a good challenge, but these sessions are pointless. You're just massacring me so there's no chance for me to try anything out and get better."
Goku gets to his feet and rolls his shoulders a few times.
"And just what are you expecting to happen when you face the Prince? That he's going to have an honorable battle with you. Get real. We Saiyans fight to win and for the thrill of battle. That's it."
"I took up martial arts to hone my mind and body. It's the same values I teach my son. But you, you just enjoy the cruelty of torturing others. That's no way to be a father."
Bardock rockets forward. Pointed knuckles crush Goku's cheek. He hits the ground harder than before. Blood wells in his mouth.
"Don't you lecture me on fatherhood!" says Bardock. "You don't know the first thing about your people's history. So don't act all high and mighty because you didn't grow up under the rule of a tyrant."
Goku waits for his vision to stabilize and his left ear to stop ringing. When they do, he looks at Bardock who inhales deeply through his nostrils over and over. He spits out a glob of blood.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know," he says.
"You're damn right you didn't," says Bardock. "We've been dogs of the Cold Empire since long before I was born. When they found out our race made such capable warriors, they turned our lives into a completely militaristic one. They took our children from us as soon they were old enough to eat solid foods. The ones like yourself and your brother were shipped to planets with future prospects of being conquered. Those with higher potential were educated to be mindless drones who serve the empire and reign over the lower class."
"That's awful," says Goku. "I can't imagine being forced to kill and conquer."
"Don't get the wrong idea," Bardock says. "We love to kill and conquer. We just want to do it for ourselves and not some overlord. I would have raised you as a proper Saiyan if I had been given the chance."
"I see," says Goku. He spits out more blood. "So tell me about this Cold Empire. Teach me what I need to know about Saiyan history."
"I'll tell you the only story that matters," says Bardock.
He smiles.
"Lesson number three. How I died rebelling against the universe's supreme ruler."
Author's Note 11/28/20: I just wanted to take a moment to thank all of the people who have left reviews on this story. I love hearing your thoughts and encourage comments of any kind. Whether you like something or dislike something, I think it's great to talk about things we are passionate about. I try to respond to every review I get if possible because they mean a lot to me, they really do. Some of you only have guest accounts which I cannot reply to, and I wish I could. So just know your efforts are greatly appreciated. Thank you all so much and take care.