"Hana…"

Warm fingers curling around her own. Rough, vaguely familiar.

"I'm not certain if you can hear me. Guess it doesn't matter."

Silence for a while. The fingers squeeze.

"Just…get well. I don't like seeing you this way." The voice breaks. Struggles. "Please…"

.

.

Hana woke slowly, half-dreamt words echoing in her head, a lingering warmth in the tips of her fingers. In those early blissful moments before opening her eyes she thought she was still at home. But when she sat up and blinked away the last remnants of sleep, the bedroom came into focus. And it definitely wasn't hers.

The room was bathed in white. Plush white bedsheets, white carpeting, white silk wallpaper that shimmered in the sunlight. White billowing curtains framed the open windows. Hana slipped out of bed and slid her feet into a pair of white slippers. She wriggled her toes. Wherever she was, they sure didn't skimp on quality.

As she stood she noticed the long white nightgown hanging from her in heavy layers. Her fingers explored the fabric, impressed with the craftsmanship. Her eyes narrowed. Why was she wearing this? Why was she here? What was this place, anyway?

Hana went to the window and leaned out to get a better view. Except there was no better view. Sky and clouds stretched out in every direction, and that included downwards. "What the hell…?" She stared hard but couldn't see anything resembling ground, only more clouds.

All the white made her nervous now. The last thing she remembered was chasing Piccolo down the beach. Did something happen? Did she…die? Was this the afterlife? She took a deep breath, focused on the sensation of air filling her lungs. She certainly didn't feel dead. Everything felt pretty normal. She actually felt better than ever.

Turning from the window, she caught a glimpse of herself in a full-length mirror. All the color had returned to her skin. Her eyes were bright again. Even her hair seemed clean and silky. She twirled, watching the nightgown come alive as it spun.

If she was dead, she decided, so be it. At least she looked great.

Hana smiled to herself and walked through the archway that served as the door. It was time to figure out what was really going on. The corridors were spacious and decorated with ornate potted plants and flowers of every color and genus. She passed golden statues of benevolent-looking hooded figures, painted masks of smiling beasts with oversized fangs, woven tapestries of ancient battles. Hana touched the small beings depicted there, trying to make sense of what she saw.

"Excuse me, miss," said a deep voice.

Hana jumped. It was a stout little man with pointed ears and obsidian skin wearing a crisp white turban.

"My name is Mr. Popo," he said, bowing to her. Hana returned the polite gesture. "If you could please follow me, there is someone who would like to know you are awake and well."

She kept a respectable distance behind him as he led the way. The corridor came to an end, opening out onto a grand circular platform of glittering stone tile. Lofty palm trees were planted in two rows to line a pathway, and at the far end of the pathway stood a tall figure with green skin dressed in white and navy blue.

"Piccolo?" she called, running past Mr. Popo in her excitement. But then the being turned around. He certainly looked like Piccolo, but his face was darker green and creased with age. Hana skidded to a halt. She saw the symbol written on the front of his robes.

Kami.

Everything fell into place. Of course. This was Kami's Lookout, the home of Earth's guardian himself. The palace of God.

Hana sunk to the floor and pressed her forehead to the tiles. "Kami-sama," she gasped, "it's an honor."

The click-clack of his walking stick grew closer until his form covered her in shadow. "You may stand," he said. Hana got up but didn't meet his eyes. "I must say, I haven't been addressed that formally in decades. Almost forgot what it felt like. Well look at me, young lady, you needn't avert your gaze."

She didn't feel worthy of it, but she obeyed him. He had a kind, weathered face. And he was smiling at her. God was smiling at her.

Mr. Popo approached them. "She was already awake when I went to check on her, Kami."

"Ah," said Kami, "the poor girl must have been quite confused when she woke. I take it things are clearer to you now, dear?"

Hana nodded. "Yes, somewhat. I never thought I would ever see the Lookout for myself. It's beautiful."

"We have Mr. Popo to thank for that," Kami said, motioning to the small round man. Mr. Popo beamed with pride. "He's been taking care of the Lookout for centuries. If it were only me up here I'm afraid this place would be in ruins and I'd be in rags."

"Oh, Kami," said Mr. Popo with a chuckle.

Hana let herself relax. She'd always heard stories that painted Kami in such a serious light, but he seemed like a sweet old man to her.

Kami put a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Now then, you're probably curious about why you're here. What is the last thing you remember?"

"I was on the beach. Piccolo was there." She shook her head, trying to recall something else. A voice perhaps. Hushed words spoken in earnest. A touch. But it was all fuzzy. "Nothing after that, though. Was he the one who brought me here?"

"He was."

Hana felt happiness like a warm blanket enveloping her.

"You were very sick when you arrived," Kami continued. "In fact Piccolo feared you were dying."

"He was so worried," Mr. Popo chimed in. "I've never seen him look so pale."

"The situation was nowhere close to as dire as he imagined," Kami chuckled, "and thankfully I had just the right restorative elixir to give you. You've been resting for nearly two days, though, sleeping off the remainder of your illness."

Hana bit her lip. "Two days…" She wasn't accustomed to losing time like that. It was a strange thing to grasp.

"Take as long as you need to process what I've told you," said Kami. "Why don't you join the two of us for a late supper in the meantime? You must be starving."

As if on cue, her stomach rumbled. She felt her cheeks go pink.

Kami laughed and took her arm in his. "I think I shall take that as a yes."

.

.

Hana let the spoon drop into the empty bowl. Warm soup was exactly what she needed. And the dining room was so small and cozy, lit by a roaring fire behind them. Mr. Popo came to clear her dishes away and refill her water glass. "Thank you so much for this," she told him. "I feel much better now."

"That's wonderful to hear, miss!"

Now that she wasn't inhaling her dinner, she noticed Kami also had a bowl of soup in front of him. She knew admittedly very little about Nameks, but at the very least she'd learned from Piccolo that they don't eat food, and so before she could stop herself the question was already leaving her lips. "Forgive me if this is offensive, Kami-sama, but you're a Namek just like Piccolo, right?"

He lowered the spoon from his mouth. "I am, yes."

"Well, it's just that Piccolo once told me his race only drinks water. Is that not true?"

"Water is all we require for sustenance, that much is true," he said, "but we can eat for pleasure if we slowly acclimate ourselves to it. I've been eating Mr. Popo's cooking ever since I became Kami, so I'm quite used to the practice now. It doesn't surprise me though to hear that Piccolo still only consumes water. I can't imagine he's had many chances to eat a human meal."

Hana frowned into her glass. "Yeah, he certainly doesn't let himself get close to anyone," she said.

Kami started grinning. "Keep trying," he said. "You're closer than you think."

She lifted her eyes to his knowing expression. What exactly did he mean by that? Had Piccolo been speaking with him about—no, no, she wouldn't let herself get her hopes up. As if Piccolo would share his feelings with anyone. She felt silly for even thinking it.

After supper, Kami led Hana around the palace and gave her the grand tour. He even allowed her to sit in his throne, though it took several minutes of good-natured persuasion on his part. Hana simply couldn't believe she was hanging out with the guardian of the entire planet. The way he spoke to her…he was like a wizened grandfather and a childhood friend somehow rolled into one person. She'd never met his equal.

They stopped in front of a mural painted in the long hallway behind the throne room. "This tells the story of each Kami's ascent," he explained. "Each of us had to complete a very personal trial, and those trials are displayed here so that the next Kami may learn from our ordeal."

Hana followed the mural down the hallway until she spotted the tiny man painted green. Red and blue surrounded him like an aura, and in the next scene he was split into two beings—one red and one blue. The blue stood on the Lookout like a shining beacon. The red, twisted and nearly shapeless, descended to Earth.

"What does this mean?" she asked.

"The Kami before me realized that I had conflicting emotions in my heart. I was both good and evil, and if I did not cast out the evil in myself I would never be worthy. So I separated my body into two physically identical beings, one to house the good, the other to house the evil."

Hana touched her fingertips to the red paint. "So if you're the good part, what happened to the bad part? Where did he go?"

"To earth." Kami's voice deepened with the ache of regret. "He killed so many people. I didn't realize the evil in me had been that profound. But in the end he was dealt with. Goku, in fact, defeated him. Only a boy at the time but already so powerful."

"So your evil self died then?"

A sad smile twitched on Kami's mouth. "No, just repackaged. You see, he called himself King Piccolo. And when he was killed, he created a son to continue his work."

The breath stuck in Hana's throat as her heart sunk into her stomach. No. That couldn't be true. "Wait, you mean Piccolo is…?"

Kami nodded gravely.

Piccolo…the son of a creature comprised of pure evil. She stared at the red smudge of paint as her vision blurred over. "That's awful," she said. What sort of childhood must that have been? What sort of life? She looked desperately to Kami. "Why would you tell me this?"

"Because it's just as much my story to tell as his, and because I think it will help you understand him a little better." At that, he grinned at her again. "Now dry your eyes. Piccolo has come a long way since the circumstances of his birth, and he's made incredible strides in just these few short months. Partly your influence, no doubt."

Hana blotted tears from the corners of her eyes. "My influence?"

"KAMI!" a voice bellowed from within the throne room.

"That's Piccolo!" Hana cried, leaving Kami's side. She raced past the length of the mural, losing a slipper as she darted into the next room. Piccolo stood beside the throne with arms crossed. He looked unspeakably furious, but the moment he saw Hana his face softened. She rushed to him, threw her arms around his waist, squeezed him tight. "It's you! You're back!"

Piccolo gripped her shoulders and pushed her away a little. "Hana. You…you look well. How do you feel?"

"Great, actually," she said. "Thanks to you."

Kami entered, carrying Hana's slipper. "Was that shouting necessary, Piccolo?"

"She wasn't in bed. I thought you'd returned her home before it got dark."

"Of course not," Kami said indignantly. "The poor girl needed to eat something, and I knew you'd be coming back to see her after your session with Gohan. How is the boy, anyway?"

"He fine. Hardly rusty at all." Piccolo turned to Hana. "And he wanted me to tell you that he's sorry you got sick. He'll be happy to see you whenever you're up to teaching again."

Hana took her slipper from Kami and held it close. "I feel completely recovered, so I hope he's ready to hit the books tomorrow. We've got some serious catching up to do."

Kami placed a hand on her back. "You're more than welcome to spend tonight here, if you wish. Piccolo or Mr. Popo can take you home in the morning."

"Ohh!" Hana wrung the slipper excitedly. "I'd love to. I've been here for two days but haven't really had much of a chance to appreciate it."

"Well then," Kami said, "I think perhaps Piccolo should finish showing you around."

Piccolo's eyes went wide. "Me?"

"You know the Lookout just as well as I do."

"Well, yes, but—"

"Then it's settled." Kami smiled as he looked between them. "Have a nice evening, you two." And he crossed through the rest of the throne room and out the door, the sound of his staff on the tile growing fainter and fainter until it faded away entirely.

Piccolo coughed in the silence and rubbed the back of his neck. Hana slid her foot back into her slipper, adjusted it, looked up at him just in time to catch his eyes on her. "So," she asked, "where should we go?"

.

.

They sat side by side, Piccolo cross-legged as usual, Hana with her legs stretched out and the hem of her nightgown fluttering around her ankles. He'd brought her to the domed roof of the palace, the tallest peak of it. The roof overlooked the entire grounds and gave a stunning view of the sky above, unhindered by the palm trees below. And with dusk fast approaching, the early pin-prick forms of stars began to shine overhead.

"Hana," Piccolo started to say, but his words faltered. He heaved an irritated sigh.

"What is it?"

"You're…better, right? You're absolutely sure?"

"Yes, of course." She eyeballed him for a second, not exactly following him. "You're not still worried about me, are you?"

"I wasn't…worried. Necessarily."

Hana laughed. "Well that's not what Kami said."

"Kami says a lot of things."

"Mr. Popo said it too."

Piccolo scowled. "Fine. So I was worried. Are you happy?" He pointedly refused to return her stare. There was something so sweet about the way he got huffy when confronted with his own sincerity. He wanted so badly to be perceived as big and mean and tough, and perhaps he had been those things when they first met, but it was clear to her now that it was all for show, just a hard shell covering his gooey insides.

Her fingers found his in the dark and she covered his hand with her own before he could snatch it away. He jolted at the sudden affectionate gesture. "Hana—what—"

"It's okay," she said. "Just sit with me like this for a while."

Piccolo's brow furrowed and his black eyes belied terrible confusion, but he remained quiet and allowed her to touch his hand.

The warmth of him stirred a memory in Hana. A voice, begging her in the dark. The sensation of his fingers around hers as she lay there, semi-conscious. A "please" and then nothing. She smiled to herself. "Hey Piccolo, can I ask you something?"

He seemed apprehensive at the question. "Mm."

"When I was asleep for all that time, I didn't snore, did I?"

A relieved puff of air left his lips. "Not much at first, but then as you began to recover I suppose you were resting more deeply, and then you did, yes."

As if a ray of sunshine had shone directly into her heart, Hana's face blossomed with joy. Gotcha.

It took Piccolo a few moments to realize the gravity of what he had said, and when it dawned on him he went rigid and pinky-purple all over. "I mean," he tried to say, "th-that's what Kami told me, anyway. I wouldn't know. I was hardly around. Training Gohan, you know."

But Hana fixed him with such a smile that he couldn't turn away from her. "You really were there," she said. "You were there by my bedside. You held my hand and spoke to me. I just knew I remembered something like that, and I was right."

Piccolo snatched his hand from hers and nursed it as if it were injured. "Well…you were sick. That's what friends do, right? It's not that big of a deal."

Hana just continued to smile. "Sure. All right."

"It's not."

"If you say so."

He sunk into a miserable silence, his cheeks still colored.

Hana reclined and stared up at the blanket of stars covering the sky. "They're so beautiful up here, huh. You can't see them like this in the city. Or anywhere else on earth, I bet."

Piccolo recovered his composure enough to reply. "I thought you might like the view."

"I just wanna fly up there," she said, stretching out her arms. "Do you think I could learn?"

"To fly?" Hana nodded. He chewed on the answer for a moment. "It's…quite a challenging technique. Even Goku didn't learn to fly until he was a young man. I'm not even certain I would be the right person to teach you."

"Oh?"

"Flight comes naturally to me. It's something innate in my species. Trying to explain it may prove too difficult."

"Well that's disappointing. Do you think Tien would—"

"No! I mean—" He hurried to correct himself. "I guess we could still try. Certainly couldn't hurt."

Hana sat up and grinned at him. "You mean it? When do we start?"

Piccolo actually laughed a little at her enthusiasm. Just a quiet, breathy sort of laugh, but Hana treasured it all the same. "Slow down," he said. "You've spirit, yes, but you've only just recovered."

"But I feel great. Even better than before I got sick."

His posture relaxed into a resigned sort of slouch, though the corner of his mouth tugged up in a smirk. "I suppose you do at that. Why don't we try this somewhere less precarious. Here, hold on."

His arms moved around her and scooped her up off the rooftop, gripping her protectively. Hana clutched him tight and gazed at his face. His profile in the moonlight was like something from a dream, or maybe just a campy romance novel. Either way, she felt like swooning as he leapt from the roof and fell with controlled momentum, her nightgown and his cape unfurling in the chill of the night air.

He landed softly, barely jostling her at all, and let her slip from his arms. Hana did a little pirouette on the smooth tile. Where had all this boundless energy come from? She really needed to ask Kami for more of the elixir he'd treated her with. It was better than coffee.

"And you're certain this is what you want?" he asked.

"Are you kidding me? Of course!" She was ready for this training. No falling asleep halfway through. She was going to do this.

"All right, all right." Piccolo took a deep breath and crackled his knuckles. Hana tried not to stare at his forearms as he did so. "I want you to close your eyes and focus inward, but this isn't going to be like the meditation practice. You're going to feel out the ki inside you, and once you do that, you're going to bring it forward."

Hana swallowed. "My ki? What will it feel like?"

"Can't say. I imagine it's different for each person."

She closed her eyes as instructed. Her skepticism regarding her own ki still lingered in the back of her head. What if there was nothing to locate? What if she was just…empty? For what seemed like minutes and minutes, she concentrated on searching within, wracking her brain for something, anything. At one point she thought she felt a twinge, but it was only an itch on her stomach. Finally she let her eyes draw open in defeat.

"I don't get it," she said. "I still don't understand what I'm supposed to be looking for."

Piccolo considered her situation and appeared lost in thought. Hana bit the inside of her mouth. He must've been regretting his offer to teach her. Even if that probably wasn't true, it was all she could think about as she watched his brow knit with deliberation.

"Perhaps," he began to say, "it would be best to show you. And then you may more easily find it within yourself."

"Show me?"

Piccolo curled fingers around both her wrists, resting his thumbs atop her veins as if taking her pulse. He pressed ever so gently. "I'm going to share a very, very small part of my energy with you. This might be unpleasant. I honestly don't know."

"It's okay."

He hesitated for a second and then his eyes drifted closed. "Are you ready?"

"Mm-hm."

His thumbs bore down harder, not enough to hurt, but still uncomfortable. She was about to say something about it, but suddenly there came the sensation of heat in her wrists, like holding them under a warm faucet. The intensity continued to climb. Hotter and hotter. Now she really wanted to say something.

"Piccolo—you're—ahhh!" The concentrated heat went off like a bomb beneath her skin, flooding up her arms, tingling up her neck and down the backs of her thighs and into the very soles of her feet. She arched her spine and writhed in Piccolo's grip. Such ecstasy, such euphoria. She'd never experienced anything that even remotely compared to this rush blazing through her.

His hands released her and Hana opened her eyes. Was it just a trick of the moonlight, or was she shimmering? Was this ki? Piccolo's ki? It felt good inside of her. It felt powerful. Capable.

"Hana? Are you all right?"

She looked up at him. "Can I try it out?"

"What do you mean—"

She didn't even wait to hear his reply. Her knees bent and then she jumped into the air and…flew. Straight up. Straight past the palm trees, up and up. Leaving the Lookout behind. Her speed was unreal. The wind in her eyes made it difficult to see but she kept going. She was going to reach those stars.

"Hana, stop!" Piccolo's voice came from somewhere far below. His words were almost lost on her ears.

Hana didn't want to stop. She was flying! Onwards she rose, so fast now that tears unwittingly streamed from the corners of her eyes. The air was so cold and so thin. But still she didn't stop accelerating.

"HANA!" A near-silent cry.

She reached out for the stars, so close, but just as she did the shimmering on her skin flickered, blinked, and went out.

And then she plummeted.

Piccolo caught her before she fell too far, rattling her back into some semblance of rationality. "Oh my god," she moaned, her head lolling against his chest. "What was that…holy shit…"

"That was my ki."

They descended gradually, a pace Hana was thankful for. A wicked ache pounded behind her eyes and she feared she might vomit before they returned to the Lookout. "It's like I just went crazy," she said, half-mumbled. "Like a fire in my while body…"

"I'm sorry, I should've known it would overwhelm you."

She sighed longingly. "It was incredible…"

Piccolo touched down at the Lookout but still held Hana in his arms. "I'm putting you to bed."

Hana faded in and out of cognizance on her way to the bedroom. By the time her head hit the pillow, though, she'd come around somewhat. Even the throbbing in her skull wasn't so awful as before. She felt the blankets drawing over her and noticed Piccolo still there. "My hero, once again."

He cleared his throat. "Get some sleep. I'll take you back home tomorrow."

"Okay." Hana managed to snatch a handful of his cape as he tried to leave the bedroom. "Wait. Don't go yet."

"Hm?"

"Can you stay? Just until I fall asleep..."

Piccolo glanced around the room, maybe checking to see if Kami was there, and then sat at the edge of the mattress and crossed his arms. "Just until you fall asleep."

Hana smiled. "Thank you. Oh, and Piccolo?"

He regarded her curiously.

"I feel it now." She touched her fingertips just below her breastbone. "My ki…it's right here. I'm not sure how I missed it before…seems so obvious now…"

"That's good," he said.

"But do you think maybe…when I'm more prepared…you could share your ki with me again? It felt so amazing. Like…like nothing else in the world."

"Hana…" Piccolo's eyes widened and an embarrassed flush rose up against his skin. "We'll…we'll see. But for now, rest."

So rest she did, drifting effortlessly to sleep, and Piccolo swore she was still smiling.

.

.

"I'm very proud of you."

Piccolo froze in his tracks as Kami made himself known. He'd only traveled a few meters from Hana's door. "I'm really not interested, old man."

"Such rudeness after I helped you. Aren't you glad I told you to check up on her at her home?"

Piccolo snorted. "For all I know, you got her sick on purpose so all this could happen."

Kami just laughed. "I'm omnipresent, not omnipotent. Besides, that wouldn't be very nice."

"Whatever."

"In any case," Kami continued, "I am indeed very proud of you for sharing a piece of yourself with the girl. I can't imagine that was an easy thing for you to decide."

Piccolo furrowed his brow. It was, in reality, much easier than he might have anticipated. What did that mean? He frowned. It probably just meant he was careless. And of course he was careless, look at what his ki did to her. She was lucky it didn't fry her completely. How could he have been so frivolous with it?

"She needed to grasp the concept of ki," he said. "That's all it was."

Kami nodded. "Ah. Of course. Well, I won't bother you further. I've said all I needed to tonight." The old man clapped Piccolo on the shoulder and left the hallway, his robes swishing back and forth on the tiled floor as he went.

Piccolo braced himself against the wall and breathed in long and deep. He hadn't lied. He had wanted to help her understand ki, but at the same time he didn't want to admit how thrilling it had been to offer up himself in that way, however small. To feel his energy comingling with her own. And even though it had overwhelmed her senses, she had…enjoyed it. His face burned with shame. Why was he reacting this way?

He focused on her resting ki in the next room, used it as an anchor for his runaway thoughts. For a long time he couldn't bring himself to go. He stood just outside the door. Listened to her even breathing. Fought the urge to return to her side. If he could just sit beside her again…maybe take her hand…

Damn it, was this…yearning? This was all beginning to feel disgustingly human. He couldn't wait for it to stop.

.

.

*drags herself in on her hands and knees* I'm so, so sorry this took forever. Between holiday hours at work, a relative in the hospital, and just plain writer's block, this chapter was slow going. I'm excited to start the next chapter, though. Also I remember someone in the reviews suggesting that we see a little more of Hana on her own without the Z-cast, and no worries, there will definitely be some of that coming up. But also lots more Piccolo! Man, he just can't seem to sort himself out, huh? Poor guy.

And as always, thank you for those continuing to read, and thank you & welcome to those just joining the story! I appreciate all of y'all!