"Is that how you suppress it?" Vegeta groused, folding his arms impatiently. The Namek was sitting cross-legged at the base of a tree, eyes closed against the dappled sunlight that played against his green cheek. Piccolo cracked an eye, observing Vegeta standing in front of him. "By meditating?" Vegeta continued, tone mocking.
Piccolo had actually been slipping into a nap, but wasn't about to admit as much. "Is that how you normally operate, just appear and make your demands? Where did you even come from?"
He had his answer in the background: Goku and Gohan came jogging out of the tree line and into the bounds of their property. Their bright orange clothes were scuffed and marked with sweat and grime. Goku shot a lingering look at the two of them before he ushered the boy inside the cottage, following himself shortly after he kicked his shoes off on the patio. Piccolo deduced Vegeta had joined the evening training session.
It was unusual for Vegeta to do so. He had been quite secretive about his training methods. Piccolo understood that the Brief girl and her father had built some kind of gravity modifier, an improvement on a similar technology that pushed Goku over the threshold to supersaiyan. Piccolo wasn't sure if he agreed it was a good idea to assist Vegeta over the same threshold. But perhaps, if the prophetic youth's warning were true they would need any help they could get.
The Namek shifted, sitting up and rolling his shoulders and then neck. "I don't know what you're talking about, Vegeta."
"Chi." Vegeta replied, something about his demeanor was grasping, like a child's sticky hand reaching for more candy. Whatever he wanted, he wanted urgently. "We couldn't find you for the spar. How do you suppress it to that extent?"
"And yet, you're here, annoying me."
"Oh, the Bean Stalk is grumpy after his nap." Vegeta drawled, then leveled his chin in seriousness. "Even Gohan was convinced you returned to the Look Out. And he's… " Vegeta couldn't quite bring himself to say aloud that the 12 year old was better than him at chi control. Gohan was better at it than even Goku. Vegeta couldn't decide if that was a satisfying or doubly humiliating fact. It was probably both.
"What? He's better than you? Krillin and Yamcha are better than you." Piccolo said sardonically. Vegeta rolled his tongue over his teeth and spat some distance from Piccolo's feet, but close enough to convey disdain and make the Namek narrow his eyes.
"What of it? I'm picking it up quickly."
Piccolo didn't understand why the Saiyan was suddenly interested in a technique that didn't directly lend itself to faster punches and more brutal kicks. Chi control, specifically chi suppression, was an exercise in discipline, and it required a balanced the mind and spirit. It wasn't anything he knew Vegeta to have an interest in.
"Why do you want to know?"
Vegeta was getting impatient, his shoulders ascending by the centimeter towards his ears. "I just do, what the fuck does it matter?"
"Then I don't care. Why would I help you?" Piccolo stood fluidly, and moved to cross the overgrown grass that carpeted the path to the Son cottage. Vegeta's posture stiffened. He blurted:
"How am I supposed to live amongst these baby-skinned humans if you won't help me? I'm not exactly used to being a civilian, I'm afraid to even touch h…" He clamped his mouth shut as Piccolo turned to him again, cocking his head slowly. They regarded each other. Piccolo thought of the boy from the future, and a smirk spread slowly across his face. Vegeta prickled at the sound of a low chuckle bubbling up from Piccolo's throat. Nameks, of course, didn't partake in the strange coupling rituals of mammals, but he was aware of them. The thought of Vegeta playing at romancing some woman, but fumbling in trying not to crush her made him laugh.
"So there's some human out there with whom you wish to be gentle, is that it?"
"Forget it." Vegeta concluded, waving him off.
"Whatcha guys doin? Am I not invited to the secret meeting?" Goku appeared a few feet away, barefoot and in fresh clothes. He had apparently dashed away in secret, sometime between his shower and dinner getting plated. "She's gonna be mad," He said jabbing a thumb over his shoulder at the cottage. "But I can get a quick spar in or two?"
The sun was beginning to set, the amber light changing the slant of the shadows. The smell of dinner wafted out from an open window in the cottage.
"Vegeta doesn't want to spar. He's asking about chi suppression." Piccolo shrugged, eyes sliding to Vegeta.
Goku's brows furrowed in confusion. "Uh! That's boring." Goku remembered long hours training under Kami, meditating by staring at the flame of a candle, getting wacked when he was too fidgety or his stomach growled too loudly. Mindfulness practice was of course important, but no one needed more than ten minutes in the morning. At least, that's all he needed. But the process of learning was so tedious. Like Piccolo, Goku wondered why.
Vegeta snarled at the question, "I said forget it."
Piccolo grinned, his lips splitting enough to flash his glinting fangs. "Vegeta's got someone on his mind. He's says he needs to learn how to be gentler." Vegeta growled, denying the accusation profusely.
Goku blinked and threw his head back slightly as if rocked by an impact. Then, finally connecting the dots of the innuendo, lowered his eye lids and nodded. "OoOokaay." He sang.
Vegeta shook his head urgently. "No! it's important… for…" He gave a little shrug of his shoulder. "For the battle. I can't be the only one unable to suppress their chi to nothing when the androids come. I'll be an obvious target."
Not even Goku was shaken off the trail. "Riiight" He teased, pressing forward in a sing-song tone. "I think I know who it i-issss!"
Piccolo's shoulders shook with a lazy laugh.
"Okay, fuck off." The color was blooming on Vegeta's cheeks now. Goku kept going for Piccolo's benefit; it wasn't often he made the Namek laugh. Goku seesawed his shoulders in an imitation of a femininity.
"I bet she has blue hair and really big-" When Goku looked down at his chest to squeeze the flesh of his pecs together with his arms in a simulation of cleavage, Vegeta took a swing at him. It would have done some damage if Goku hadn't managed to stumble backwards. The wind that followed the missile of a punch ruffled his bangs, and he put his hands up to signal truce. "Okay, okay. My bad."
Vegeta was already postured for a second blow, but knew he wouldn't land it now that the other man was on notice. He relaxed his shoulder and his arm fell to his side as he straightened. For the third time, Vegeta stated: "Forget it. I'll figure it out myself."
Goku shook his head, "No, no. I can show you." Vegeta waited expectantly. "Well, I don't mean tell you, I don't know how to explain it." Piccolo sighed loudly. "I mean, show you, like…" Goku gestured to his head and waved between them with his hand. Vegeta hesitated. He had no desire to be close enough to Kakarot's face to share a telepathic connection. Additionally, he was taken aback by Kakarot making such an offer willingly and unprompted. It was a rather personal way of communicating; not something a Saiyan would casually do, unless the recipient was someone in their inner circle. Most saiyan weren't even that good at it naturally. Telepathy was sort of latent ability, coaxed out by rituals and practices extinct for decades by now. Vegeta's mother was the only reason he knew anything of it. Women tended to excel at it more often than men. How had Kakarot even figured out how to do this? Another talent just dropped from the sky into his lap? Vegeta huffed, acquiescing: it was too easy a solution to his problem to outright refuse.
"By all means," He sighed. Goku seemed to lose himself in thought for a moment, the broody expression a bit foreign looking on his features. When he locked onto the information, he took a few steps towards Vegeta and touched his forehead to the other's temple. Vegeta screwed his eyes shut in revulsion. It was brief, but to an outside observer it might have looked somewhat affectionate, like a nuzzle.
Piccolo watched them in confusion and mild disgust. Saiyans were weird.
Goku stepped away from Vegeta. "That make sense?"
Vegeta looked around at nothing as he contemplated. Finally, he muttered: "It does." Piccolo wasn't surprised at the next bit. "Now show me how you became supersaiyan."
Goku grinned. "Oh, no you don't. That one you can do on your own."
"Kakarot-"
ChiChi's voice rang out from the back porch. Goku flinched and began his retreat. "You should come back next week." He nodded to Piccolo. "Doubles. Gohan and Piccolo. Me and you."
"Kakarot-"
Goku was already turning away. "If you come back, maybe I'll think about the supersaiyan stuff." Piccolo raised a hairless brow at that, and gave a disapproving shake of his head. Both Piccolo and Vegeta felt the man was an idiot to put such an offer on the table, but Vegeta had no qualms about taking a fool's admission against self-interest. Or perhaps the goon was just goading him into another training session, and never truly intended to share anything. Either way, Vegeta supposed he would have to leave his gravity chamber and return to Mt. Bumfuck again. "Say hi to Bulma for me!" Goku shot over his shoulder, a mischievous glint visible in his eyes before he faced forward again.
Goku and Piccolo both ambled back to the cottage and Vegeta watched them go for a moment. He touched his temple pensively. Then he took off into the sky as the sun began to sink below the horizon. It would be well into the night by the time he returned to the Capsule Corp. estate.