And we move to progress the plot

Darkjaden: Are you just testing to see how many times I'll answer this question? It's still no

Shadowj6480: Thanks. I've at least set the groundwork for new techniques

AnosDT95: Wink wink

Training with Piccolo was, in a word, harsh. He didn't pull his punches and didn't care for easing me into training.

My only reprise was when the full moon came. The day before he'd ease up training and the day of was spent meditating. While before I found medication boring now I welcomed it. Progress in that regard was slow going, but just enough that Piccolo didn't give up on it.

It only took a month and a half to finally finagle a blanket out of him. Well it was more like a smaller version of his cloak without the shoulder, thingies, but kept me warm nonetheless.

I lay on the ground hurt and exhausted after training most the day. It'd take all the effort I had left to sit up, so I didn't bother.

"Get up." I was long past flinching at his harsh tone.

"No."

"I said get u-"

"I said no. I couldn't get up if I wanted to, and even if I did manage it there's no way I could train like this," amazingly my voice remained level through my heavy breathing.

"Useless girl." Well, at least he's kept up with referring to me as a girl.

"I'm not like you. I'm not like my dad. I need recovery time. I can't train all day every day and not break." Despite myself my voice started to shake. It's worse that I knew that canon Gohan could. He could continue training and had much more of a drive to it.

Piccolo didn't say anything else. I opened my eyes to see he was gone.

My eyes drifted back closed, too tired to do anything but sleep.

I woke up to the sun stabbing my eyes instead of Piccolo's demands.

Confused I sat up to see Piccolo meditating across the clearing.

"Well I certainly hope you're well rested," I stared unimpressed at his biting sarcasm, "because today we're going to start practicing with Ki."

I bolted up.

"Fly?" The single word was all I could manage to say.

My sudden enthusiasm seemed to catch him off guard.

"Yes…flying is a part of learning to use your Ki…"

Suddenly I was on my feet, "Great! Let's go! Come on!" I was starting to act like the child I appeared to be with my enthusiasm.

Piccolo wasn't nicer per se when it came to learning ki, but he was more patient with it since there was no way to force it.

That was until I had started to learn how to fly, but the whole "fall and you die" mentality still kept me from going over the ledge of a cliff. So Piccolo shoved me off with his foot.

A startled noice escaped me as I fell through empty air. Panic overtook me and I barely managed to catch myself midair before stumbling and hitting the ground anyway.

"Do I look like a baby bird to you?!"

"Well. You're loud and make high pitched noises."

I glared at Piccolo who was hovering over the cliff edge but it didn't last long. Because I had managed to catch my self.

I had managed to catch myself in mid air.

That was like-

Almost flying.

Piccolo had given me the rest of the day to stumble over myself midair as I tried to figure out how to balance.

From then on the days alternated between sparring and ki practice. It was much preferred and Piccolo kept with it because I improved faster.

With the alternating schedule I minded the sparring less.

No, I liked it.

In my past life I had always like the idea of martial arts, I had taken classes in middle school even. But exercise and I never got along well. I was too small to be fairly matched against anyone and regardless of how much I ran or exercised, I could never build muscle. I died being incapable of doing a single push-up.

But this body did not have the same issue. No it thrives on it. The adrenaline rush and the tired ache at the end of the day felt good.

In the moment.

Because if I let myself slow down and think I'd remember why I had to train and the apprehension would kill my motivation. So I ignored it and instead though about how I could actually fly and that almost made up for everything else I've been through so far. Almost.

After a while the alternating schedule changed from alternating days, to sparring in the morning and ki practice in the afternoons. I still obviously wasn't as strong as Piccolo, but, I could fight back. It wasn't completely one sided anymore.

I kinda liked feeling strong.

It was difficult for me to feel strong in this world, knowing what was to come and how infantile my power really was, but in comparison to my past life? The power I held almost scared me.

Piccolo's fighting style was fast and direct, which I could appreciate. While as a person I'd prefer to slow down and think through my actions, that wouldn't really so well work in this world so learning to react quickly early is far better than late. And, needless to say, any tendency to pull my punches was quickly disposed of.

Fighting in midair was, difficult. I didn't have any leverage from the ground like I was used to so I had to create force with my Ki, which usually left me with either no force behind my punches at all, or completely overshooting and stumbling over myself.

Sensing Ki was weird. I couldn't quite describe it if I wanted to, like describing color to a blind person or sound to a deaf person. It was just….there. As with all Piccolo branded training, once I got the basics, it was into the deep end. He shoved a blindfold on my head and I was fighting blind for a week until he decided my sensing was good enough. Suffice it to say, not my favorite activity.

Despite Piccolo's complaints I elected to keep my sword. Granted I was, technically, stronger without it (a fact he made clear by snapping it in half with no effort (it took two weeks to convince him to make me a new sword)) at the very least it'd be a decent tool to have. Also it's a sword and swords are cool. Objectively.

Over time I had moved on from Dad Outfit 2.0 to a sleeveless purple Gi more similar to Piccolo's. Though I did keep the blue undershirt from the original outfit, it felt weird not to wear anything underneath.

At nights I played a slow and silent game with myself. See every night I'd get a little closer to Piccolo to see which would win out, his stubbornness or his impatience to which he'd move away. Eventually he won the proverbial game of chicken because I got to about a foot and a half to him and decided I had pushed my luck well enough.

But time was running thin and suddenly it was the last full moon until the year was up. My control wasn't perfect, or even good really but it had to be good enough. As the night came to an end, Piccolo shot the moon out of the sky. No unnecessary chances. even though I knew Vegeta could fake it, I didn't say as much. At least his Method probably used up energy.

The next and last part of my training was almost as important as controlling myself when transformed. Learning to fight balanced and comfortably with my tail wrapped around my waist and under my clothes. The obvious weakness out of sight and out of mind, as well as keeping the element of surprise.

And then the sky went dark.

In the middle of a training day, the sky was suddenly covered by unending dark clouds.

"That's, uh, some storm…"

"That's no storm. It looks like your friends are finally wishing your father back to life."

"Then, that must mean the other Sayains are almost here…"

I glanced up at Piccolo, who had already come to that realization, his face twisted into anger, frustration, and, almost fear.

"Looks like your training is over."

"…guess so."