The World Keeps Turning! The Times They Are A-Changin'!
It had been about two weeks since Goku and the others beat Majin Boo and Krillin was looking to start another normal day. Maybe make some pancakes for everyone, since he was the first one up. When he went outside to go get the newspaper, though, Krillin was greeted by something that made it clear he was going to have to rethink all his plans for the day.
"Hercule?!" he exclaimed in surprise. Sure enough, the former Champion of the World was standing right on Krillin's front porch, dressed in… his gi. This early? Krillin couldn't figure that out. Didn't the guy have other clothes? Then, after a second, he realized that Hercule had a camera crew with him. "...What's going on?" he asked.
Hercule just threw his head back and laughed. "Whaddaya think's goin' on?" he asked boisterously, far too awake for this early in the morning for Krillin's liking. "You're the master of the Turtle School now, right? I'm here to train with ya!"
Krillin just blinked, looking not unlike a turtle as his brain took an extra little bit to wake up. "...Why?"
"Why not?" Hercule replied eagerly, though he was clearly a little thrown off by Krillin's complete lack of stage presence. "It's never too late to learn some new tricks! Besides," he added, "I need to get to work if I'm gonna take my title back!"
Krillin didn't quite have the heart to tell Hercule that even if he spent the next four years training nonstop, even with Krillin's help, he wasn't going to catch up to Suno. There were just some things that you couldn't start doing in your forties. On the other hand, who was he to deny someone the chance for self-improvement? "But why the cameras?" Krillin asked.
"It's part of the brand," Hercule explained quickly. "I got a new media manager who says the kids are all into 'streaming' these days, whatever the hell that is, and he says it'll make me look cooler if I live stream my training." He shrugged, clearly not understanding or caring about the specific jargon. "So whaddya say?" he asked,d holding out his hand with a grin. One second, Krillin was just standing there. The next second, Krillin had a purple turtle shell in his hands.
"Catch," he told him, throwing it as effortlessly as if it were a piece of cloth. Hercule caught the shell right in the chest and fell backward, kicking his feet.
"H-hey!" he exclaimed, struggling to push the shell of his chest and looking for all the world like a bit of a turtle himself. "A little help, here?" Then he glowered at the cameramen. "Don't film this, you idiots!"
They continued filming him.
OoOoOoO
Out in the great desert wastes, just before the giant mushroom forests, a funeral was held. It was a small, quiet affair with only six mourners. Not a funeral for a great warrior or leader but for a true friend.
It was the funeral for Puar.
It seemed that the old cat's advanced age had caught up to him even more than he had first let on and he didn't live more than a few months after Majin Boo's defeat before he passed on. Yamcha had wept helplessly. He felt like he might still cry now. Some part of him had wanted to gather the Dragon Balls but he knew it was a mistake to think so. It was selfish, even. The Dragon Balls couldn't bring back those who'd died of natural causes. And even if they could, Puar had lived a good, long life. It wouldn't be fair to keep Puar around past his time.
The Ox and Wolf family, Bulma, and Goku all said their last words to Puar and then Ocha played a soft, sad tune on his flute to send Puar on his way as Yamcha scattered his ashes on the wind. It had been the cat who had encouraged Ocha to take up the flute when he'd continued to struggle with the violin. He'd been a natural at it as if he'd been born with a flute in his hands. Yamcha was proud of his son that he managed to stay composed throughout the entire song and then put one arm around him to hug him gently after he was finished.
On the flight back to their house, Yamcha couldn't help but brood a little bitterly. Puar deserved something larger, something grander. People should have known just how important Puar was. He was the first one to make a wish on the Dragon Balls! He'd saved the world all those years ago! There should have been crowds of people, everyone should have known who Puar was and all that he'd done.
But that was wrong, Yamcha knew. Puar hadn't wanted that. He'd just wanted to be sent off by his family and his dearest friends. Yamcha knew that and knew that he had to respect it. But he was still down. Puar had been his oldest friend, after all.
Chi-Chi saw her husband's grief and knew that she had to do something to make it right, however she could. A couple of days after the funeral, she noticed Yamcha in the backyard, idly raking the same pile of leaves that he'd been raking for the last ten minutes, and went out to talk to him.
"Come here," she told him gently, taking his hand in hers. "I want to show you something." Yamcha let himself be pulled along without too much protest, letting the rake fall into the leaf pile with a soft crinkle. "I finished working on the sign," Chi-Chi explained, leading Yamcha through the house and into the garage. With a small smile on her lips, Chi-Chi removed the cloth tarp that was covering the large, painted wooden sign to reveal the painted design underneath.
"What happened to 'Wolf and Spice'?" Yamcha asked softly, a smile already curling on his lips as he felt his eyes getting misty. Chi-Chi just smiled.
"I decided to take things in a different direction," she explained. Yamcha laughed and pulled his giant wife down for a kiss, holding her tight.
The wooden sign for their Bed & Breakfast read "The Blue Whiskers" in raised, curved lettering, with a fairly accurate recreation of Puar alongside the lettering.
One Year Since the Defeat of Majin Boo
Despite Krillin's reservations on the idea of training Hercule, the guy proved to be a dedicated and capable student. He wasn't just doing this for a show, he really did want to train and get better. He took every lesson Krillin gave him to heart and gave it his all. After a year of training… well, he probably would be able to beat Goku's brother if they had a time machine. Maybe. It was hard to think back that far. But one thing that Krillin hadn't expected was the sharp increase in his students, thanks to Hercule documenting his training almost constantly.
One morning, about a few months after Hercule had completed his first year of training, Krillin walked out to go for a quick dip in the sea to help himself wake up when he discovered that the shore of the island was absolutely jam-packed with people, all crowding around each other, pushing and shoving, each one desperate to learn from the man who was training one of the saviors of humanity in Hercule. He quickly did an about-face and ran back into the house, the screen door slamming shut behind him. "Laz!" he cried. "Call Baba! We're gonna need more turtle shells!"
Even after Krillin and Lazuli had weeded out the punks who really had no business learning martial arts and just wanted to be cool like "The Champ", they still had over a hundred potential students, including Upa's son Mercury and Upa himself. Krillin had been hesitant at first, but Upa apparently knew Suno and Goku from way back and that was good enough for Krillin. Either way, his enrollment wasn't Crane numbers but it wasn't exactly anything to sneeze at, either. The Turtle School looked like it was going to be an actual school for the first time in centuries. It seemed that between the most recent Budoukai, Boo's defeat, and with Suno's book recently coming out, there was a reawakened interest in the martial arts and in learning about ki that hadn't existed in a very long time.
So, Krillin, Lazuli, and Marron had to move again, finding a larger island to accommodate the far greater number of students. Krillin was also going to need, well, more teachers. Roshi and Yamcha were more than willing to help, since Suno coming to get lessons from him had awoken the teaching bug in Roshi, while Yamcha just really needed something to do that captured his attention and helped keep him in shape more than running a bed and breakfast did. Chi-Chi was against the idea at first but she knew that Yamcha had been down in the dumps recently, for obvious reasons, and hoped that getting to spend some time with his old Turtle School buddies would lift his spirits and give him some pep in his step so she allowed him to go teach. Even Goku stopped by every now and then for what was essentially a guest lecture and once Krillin felt like he had a solid enough grasp of the Turtle School way, he'd let Hercule lead a class or two.
Lazuli herself, however, wasn't much interested in teaching. "I've still got my own job to do," she reminded Krillin, "And I don't totally buy the idea that every bad person died after we used the Dragon Balls. You've got plenty of teachers. But if you really need an extra pair of hands," she promised, "I'll pitch in."
In the end, though, with Roshi and Yamcha's help and the occasional appearances by Goku and even Launch, Krillin didn't really need Lazuli's help and she was free to continue her police work. The Turtle School rose to a level of prominence that it had arguably never seen before.
"Quite a little clutch of eggs you've developed for yourself, Master Krillin," Master Roshi told Krillin proudly one day as he clapped a hand on his former pupil's shoulder. "You've made me very proud, my boy." And despite everything that he'd done with his life, despite being a master in his own right, those words still meant the world to Krillin. Yeah, he decided, life was good.
OoOoOoO
Uranai Baba had never had a pupil before. As far as she knew, she'd always been the only seer in the world. She'd also never been really interested in small children. So when Tenshinhan and Launch arrived with their five-year-old daughter one day, Baba was very hesitant about the arrangement.
"I'm not a babysitter," she told them, "I'm a fortune-teller! Isn't this what you still have Chaozu around for?" she added, which actually drew a chuckle from Launch before Ten shot her a stern look.
"We're not looking for a babysitter," he explained. "We were hoping you could help Kani with her abilities. We think that she might be a seer."
Baba lifted her hat slightly and squinted at them suspiciously. "Oh yeah?" she asked. "And how do you figure that?" Kani wordlessly held up her notebook and turned to a page, showing it to Baba. The page showed Baba with the exact same expression she'd worn on her face a moment before and a speech bubble over her head that read "Oh yeah? And how do you figure that?"
"Kani drew that a couple of hours ago," Launch informed her. "And it's not just the future she sees, we think it might be other worlds, too." Now that had Baba extremely skeptical. "This is a manga Kani wrote," Launch explained as she slid the book across the table. Baba looked at the title of the manga, "Hokuto No Ken", with a puzzled expression. She flipped through the pages idly, looking for whatever it was Launch wanted her to see. The artwork was impressive, she had to admit. Though… a little violent for Kanis' age. Then she got to the dog-eared page and Baba finally saw what the issue was. Someone kicking someone else, who looked to be Yamcha, in the face.
Except it didn't just look similar to Yamcha, it looked almost exactly like Yamcha. Specifically, a Yamcha from several decades before Kani was born. Even though the manga wasn't in color, Baba recognized Yamcha's orange-and-green "Bandit" outfit and his long black hair.
"Yamcha fainted when he saw that," Ten remarked with more than a tiny grin. "When we asked her why she'd had Kenshiro kick 'Uncle' Yamcha in the face," Tenshinhan pointed out as his smile disappeared again, "She just told us 'that's what happened'." Baba looked at Kani, who nodded.
"It did," she said softly, taking her notebook back and doodling idly with crayons, "A long time ago." That gave Baba a bit of a surprise. She'd never even thought about using her seer powers to look into the futures or pasts of… other worlds. She'd never even known that was a thing she could do.
"We're just worried about her," Launch explained. "We don't want her to get overwhelmed or have her worry about not being able to control what she sees and from when or where. We were hoping you could help her with that. To train her so she can focus and use this power at will instead of it just happening whenever."
Baba looked at the child for a long moment. The chance to train someone, to guide a young mind with the gift of sight that might even be more powerful than her own. How could she say no?
"It'd be my honor," Baba told them with a smile. Then she looked down at Kani. "We're gonna have to get you measured for a hat, kiddo." Kani looked up at Baba's hat and frowned slightly. She wasn't sure how she felt about that.
Two Years Since The Defeat of Majin Boo
'I'm sure it didn't take me this long to climb the tower before,' Roshi thought to himself as he worked his way up Korin Tower. Then again, he'd been a much younger man the last time he'd made this trek, younger and stronger. Or maybe it just felt like it was taking so much longer because of his age. Regardless, Roshi planned to make the climb all the same. No one had heard from Korin in quite a long time and Roshi was starting to feel a little guilty about the fact. So, on an uneventful day at the Turtle School, Roshi figured he should go and check up on him.
"Korin!" Roshi called out with a huff of breath as he pulled himself up into the main body of the tower. "Korin!" he shouted again. But there was no answer. "Korin?" he asked with a tone of slight confusion as he started to make his way up the stairs. Still nothing. Roshi climbed up the stairs and still didn't find Korin but he did find the cat's staff sitting on the table where he used to leave the sacred water. Roshi walked over to the staff and found a note resting on top of it, which he picked up curiously to read.
Whoever's reading this, you're probably coming up here to see if I'm still dead. Well… yep. Still dead. I just didn't see the point in sticking around. Not that I really blame anybody– though I am a little mad people stopped coming to see me– but I get it. There's only so much use people have for rainwater, water that could kill them, or magic beans.
Part of being a God is realizing when the world doesn't need you anymore, when it's grown beyond you. What good's a God of Martial Arts when everyone is stronger than him, right? But still, on the off chance anyone wants the job, I left my staff behind. I'll be seeing you.
In lieu of a signature, Korin had left a paw print. Roshi wondered for a moment how, exactly, this note had even gotten here if Korin was dead. Then again, he supposed it would have been easy enough for the cat to get Baba or someone to drop this off for him. With that, the reality of the situation and the fact that, after nearly a thousand years, Korin was really dead, began to sink in on Roshi. Korin was the last being on Earth who'd been older than him, really older, not like Baba who was only older by a few years. Plus with Shen and Taopaipai both dead, this meant that his only contemporary was his sister. It sent a chill through Roshi. Not for the first time, he felt the deep ache in his bones and every minute of the last three hundred years. As if he needed a clearer sign that their time was coming to an end. Kami, Korin… even the Gods were getting old and dying.
Still, the end of Korin's letter gave Roshi a curious pause. What did the cat's staff have to do with anything? Slowly, hesitantly, as if the staff might turn into a cobra– or something that could actually hurt Roshi– and strike him, Roshi reached for Korin's staff and took it in his hand.
As soon as his fingers brushed against the impossibly ancient wood, Roshi's mind was flooded with knowledge and sensations. In an instant, he knew everything. Not just the Turtle style but the Crane Style, the Odori style, the style of the Orin Monks, and all of the thousands of arts and techniques thought forever lost to time in the final stand against Piccolo Daimaou. It threatened to overwhelm him… but then, after a moment, Roshi realized that it didn't. He knew all of this without struggle, without strain. Not only that but he noticed that he had more energy than he could ever recall having in his life. For the first time in centuries, he stood completely straight, not hobbled by age or weariness.
He had long since passed the time of Muten Roshi, the student; He was no longer Master Roshi the teacher or the Turtle Hermit; He was now simply Roshi, The God of Martial Arts. And his time had just begun.
"Hey," the new God muttered to himself as he walked to the edge of Roshi Tower and lifted up his sunglasses, "I wonder if I can see any naked ladies from up here…" After a moment's silence and concentration, his signature cackle echoed on the wind.
OoOoOoO
"Okay," Bulma said as she shined a light in Marron's eyes, checking the dilation and contraction of her pupils, "So tell me again what happened?" The five-year-old girl was laying on Bulma's workbench, which had been hastily repurposed with some pillows and a blanket into something resembling the sort of bench you'd find in a doctor's office.
"It was my fault," Krillin insisted while he and Lazuli sat on stools off to the side of Bulma and their daughter. "I was working with some advanced students on the other side of the island, I should have been closer to keep an eye on–"
"No," Lazuli cut her husband off, "It was me. I said I'd keep an eye on Marron and she was right there on the couch next to me, watching her cartoons, so I started reading some stupid book, and then the next thing I know–"
"I wanted to learn how to fight," Marron explained suddenly and the three of them stared at her. For a moment, they'd sort of forgotten she was in the room.
Bulma let out a relieved sigh, glad that someone had been able to cut through this "mea culpa" crap, and went back to looking Marron over. "So when you both saw Marron, what was happening?" she asked as she took the girl's pulse and checked in her ears.
"She was… beating up my beginner class," Krillin admitted, the sentence still bizarre coming out of his mouth. Even the beginner students were supposed to be at least competent and Marron had just run right over them.
"I asked if they wanted to play-fight," the five-year-old explained before Bulma pressed a tongue depressor down on her tongue and looking into her mouth.
"Does Marron have any martial arts training?" Bulma asked as she turned on her penlight on again to get a better look inside Marron's mouth.
Lazuli shook her head. "No," she told the other woman. "We were going to wait a few more years for her to get started, at least until she was as old as Krillin was when he and Goku started learning from Roshi."
"I wanna learn how to fight!" Marron insisted, squirming a little as Bulma checked her blood pressure. As far as Bulma could tell, everything seemed perfectly normal. Although, she was starting to get a suspicion.
"So, your five-year-old daughter, without any training, beat up… what, fifteen people?"
"Twenty," Krillin clarified. He'd seen it himself and he still didn't believe it. He and Lazuli had arrived at the same time and saw Marron swinging a boy three times her age and four times her size around by the ankles. "I'm just glad she only tried 'playing' with the beginner class since their ki isn't especially strong. One of the more advanced groups might have hurt her." Even so, Krillin had some very strong words for his beginner class that was willing to fight his young daughter.
"We were hoping you might be able to tell us what's going on with Marron," Lazuli explained, "Since you know more about my and Lapis' nanites than anyone alive." The only person who might know more than Bulma would be Dr. Gero and there was no way they were wasting a wish on that.
"Everything on the outside seems normal," Bulma assured them, "But I might need to take a closer look." She pushed her wheely-chair away from Marron and over to the first aid kit where she took out a sterilized, brand-new butterfly needle and a bandage. Then she pushed her chair over to one of her other work stations to grab a glass slide and then one more time to grab a lollipop out of her desk. By the time she'd returned to Marron, Lazuli and Krillin were now sitting on either side of her, each one holding one of her hands.
"What's going on, Bulma?" Krillin asked, eyeing the needle warily. You didn't just stick someone's kid with a needle without asking. Marron, to her credit, was just focusing on the lollipop.
Bulma held up her hands in a reassuring gesture. "I just need to get a tiny sample of Marron's blood so I can examine it. I want to know how the nanites in Lazuli's bloodstream have affected her." She held out the lollipop for Marron, who dove forward and grabbed it in her mouth, sucking on it eagerly. "Now don't worry, Marron," Bulma assured the little girl. "Aunt Bulma's not gonna hurt you. This'll be over before you know it." After a moment's hesitation, Lazuli scooched over a little so Bulma could get a clear view of her daughter's arms. Gently, Bulma tapped on the crook of Marron's elbow before pushing the needle in, piercing the skin. Other than a soft whimper and a little bit of squirming, Marron didn't raise too many complaints. She was too occupied with the lollipop, which she discovered was grape-flavored.
"You're being a very brave girl, Marron," Lazuli told her daughter comfortingly as she rubbed the girl's back while Bulma drew blood. "And because you're being so brave, mommy and daddy are gonna take you out for ice cream later." The responsible parent part of Krillin's brain wondered if a lollipop and ice cream back to back was excessive but he admitted to himself that Marron earned it.
"Theeere we go," Bulma said softly, slowly drawing the needle and then smoothly putting the bandage over the insertion point in the girl's arm. "All done!" She gave Marron a smile and the girl returned it before Bulma wheeled away again. She squirted the blood onto the slide and put a second slide on top of it to keep the sample from running off before putting it under a microscope to inspect it. "Holy–" she forced herself to stop, remembering there was a small child in the room, "-Cow. You guys better look at this." With a push of a button, she turned on one of the screens at her workstation, showing Krillin and Lazuli what she'd seen in the slide.
"What the heck?" Krillin exclaimed, rubbing his eyes before looking at the screen again to make sure his eyes weren't deceiving him.
"What… what are we looking at?" Lazuli asked curiously. Marron didn't really care, she was busying herself with her candy.
Marron's blood itself was red but her red blood cells were a silver-ish blue. Bulma increased the magnification and showed that this went all the way down to Marron's DNA. "It looks like some of the nanotechnology in Lazuli's bloodstream fused with Marron when she was an embryo and continued to develop with her for her entire life until it reached its current stage of advancement. These are more advanced than my nanites… even more advanced than Gero's!"
"The way you phrased that made it sound like Gero's are more advanced than yours," Krillin remarked.
"Well yeah," Bulma retorted dryly. "Did you notice that my nanites cure diseases and fight illness and his turned two teenagers into immortal, indestructible, super-strong, super-warriors?"
Krillin shrugged. "I mean, yeah," he admitted, "I just never thought that you'd be the one to admit someone was smarter than you."
"Back when I was eighteen, maybe," Bulma said offhandedly with a shrug. "I'm not omniscient, ya know?"
Lazuli felt the need to interject. "Getting back to our daughter," she reminded them, giving Krillin a bit of a stern look, "What does this mean for Marron's development? Is she going to be a little girl forever? Will she have… I don't know, health complications? Will she turn into a robot?"
Bulma paused for a moment and thought that one over. "As far as her development, I don't think there will be any problems. Since they're growing at the same rate as the rest of Marron's cells, I'd say that she'll probably age normally until she reaches physical maturity. But this is all conjecture," she admitted, "So I want you to make sure she comes to me for a physical every year. That'll also give me a good chance to keep an eye out for any complications."
"But this still doesn't explain how she wiped the floor with those students," Krillin pointed out. "I mean, Rhodey and Emmy are totally normal, as far as Lapis has told us." He was referring to their niece and nephew, Lapis and Amy's two biological children.
Once again, Bulma had to think for a moment. "If I had to guess, that probably has to do with the fact that it was Amy who carried them. She's a totally normal human and I'm guessing Lapis's sperm doesn't have any nanites in it," she surmised. "I mean, I could check-"
"Please stop talking about my brother's sperm," Lazuli told Bulma curtly, her face already slightly green.
Bulma and Krillin snickered a little before Bulma continued. "I've actually developed a computer program based on the scouter technology that can chart a person's potential Battle Power that might be able to shed a little more light on the subject." She pulled out a keyboard, clacked a few keys, and the faintly-familiar ping of a scouter preceded numbers and symbols that flashed across the screen as a graphic of Marron overlayed the video of the blood slide.
Krillin and Lazuli just stared for a moment. "That… that's a big potential number," the blonde muttered before she and her husband looked back in unison at their daughter. Maybe it was time to think about training her. Better safe than sorry.
OoOoOoO
Part of Gohan wondered why Mr. Piccolo had asked him to come to the Lookout out of the blue so suddenly. Another, smaller part of him was annoyed that Mr. Piccolo had interrupted his studying for finals. But mostly, he was glad to see his old master again. They hadn't spoken in almost a year which was… odd. 'Besides,' Gohan thought to himself, 'It's not like it takes me that long.' A little mental focus and the next thing Gohan knew, he was standing directly in front of Mr. Piccolo on the Lookout.
"...I don't think I'm ever going to get used to that technique," Piccolo muttered, a single bead of sweat rolling down his temple managing to express the startled reaction he'd managed to suppress. This was important. He didn't want to start off by looking like a fool.
"You know, I could always teach it to you," Gohan told him with a smile. "I wouldn't mind at all. I do owe you, after all." Piccolo knew that Gohan was just being nice and sincere– he didn't think the boy had a smug bone in his body– but it just further cemented his decision in his mind. The squalling child that he'd taught how to throw his first punch was now offering to teach him? "So… what did you want to tell me?" Gohan asked curiously.
Piccolo let out a soft sigh. He knew this was going to be hard on Gohan. It had been hard on him when he'd come to the decision. But it would be better for both of them in the long run, he decided.
"I've been doing some thinking," Piccolo began, wondering for a moment how best to phrase it. "I've decided I'm going to live on New Namek." The bandage method, then. Just rip it right off and hope for the best.
Those nine words hit Gohan in the chest and left him stunned for a moment. He blinked and actually had to collect his thoughts. Mr. Piccolo was… leaving? "Why?" he asked softly confusion. "Is something wrong? A-are you sick?" Maybe it was something in the Earth's atmosphere that was different from Namek's that was finally affecting him. Or constant exposure to Earth's water supply was missing some vital nutrients he needed from Namekian water. Bulma could take care of that. Bulma could fix it!
But Piccolo just shook his head. "Not in the way you're thinking of," he said. "When we were dealing with Majin Boo and things were just… getting ridiculous, I kept telling myself that I was going to leave for New Namek," he began. "It was never a serious idea, just a way of giving voice to my frustrations and deciding I was done with this planet. But now… now I think it's the planet that's done with me," he confessed.
"That's not true, Piccolo," Gohan insisted, "You're s–"
"Don't patronize me and tell me I'm still needed," Piccolo told him curtly. "I know I'm not. I tried to tell myself that I still was, that Trunks, Goten, Dende, and the other children might still need training and guidance. But it seems that the others have all seen to their own," he observed with a small hint of resigned bitterness, referring to how Goku, Vegeta, Suno, and the others had already seen to the next generation's training. "And Dende's already developed into a fine Guardian in his own right. If I keep hovering over him, he won't be able to grow." He closed his eyes and exhaled softly, shaking his head. Even if he'd come to this conclusion on his own, it was still difficult to admit to someone else that he was… useless now.
"Is… is that what this is about?" Gohan asked. "You don't feel important anymore?" He wanted to yell, to tell Piccolo that there were billions of people who didn't feel important or special just on their planet alone but they were still able to keep on going by finding smaller, simpler pleasures in life, like the connections of friendship. He wanted to rant and rave until his face turned red… but he didn't. It just wasn't in his nature.
Again, Piccolo shook his head. "It's not that," he insisted. "Well, not just that. Even though I was born here on Earth, I've never felt entirely comfortable here. The people, the noise… I lived out in the desert because if I ever went into something like a city, I couldn't think or breathe. But when I was on Namek," he continued, "For the small amount of time before I started fighting for my life, I felt completely and totally comfortable. Like I belonged. When the rest of the Namekians lived here on Earth for a few months, it was… nice. Seeing more than one other being who looked like me. It felt… right. I pushed those feelings down, though, because I still had a purpose here, or so I thought. I had to help you realize your potential, had to prove I could keep fighting," he shrugged slightly. "But when I merged with Kami again, the memories of his… our… my childhood as the son of Katas, whatever my name was, filled my head. Granted, they were mostly of a cataclysm," he admitted, "But for the brief time before that, I had memories of… home. Of a father. Of belonging. That I've never really felt here."
"Mr. Piccolo, I'm sorry if I–"
"Don't apologize," Piccolo assured him. "It's not anything you ever did wrong. Besides," he continued, "I've had some time to think about this in the last couple years. Especially after Earth joined the Federation. Once beings from other planets started coming to Earth, some for vacation, some to live here. It was something I'd never thought of seriously. The idea that I could just… leave." He was faintly aware that his father– his previous self, rather– had once had a similar idea after he'd conquered the world. But it was only in the interest of further conquest. "I want to live on a world where I belong rather than one that has to make accommodations for me."
Gohan took a moment to reflect on Piccolo's words, absorbing them and letting them sink in. He didn't want Piccolo to leave. He'd been around for Gohan's entire life. He'd always been there for him, he'd saved Gohan's life. He wanted Piccolo to stay around, to see the things that were going to come next. To meet Gohan's children, eventually. But he also knew that he couldn't force Piccolo to stay if Earth really did make him so unhappy and if New Namek seemed like it would be a home to him.
"Alright," Gohan said softly, nodding and blinking back tears. "Alright. When… when are you going to leave?" he asked.
"As soon as possible," Piccolo said bluntly. "I don't want a big going away party, I don't want to make a scene. I just wanted to tell you goodbye and leave. I'll go through Otherworld, I still have some of Kami's powers. Besides," he pointed out, "It's not goodbye forever. You've got Instant Transmission. You can always come to visit if you need to." Gohan nodded and pulled Piccolo in for a hug. The Namekian returned it gladly. "Goodbye, Gohan," he said warmly.
"Goodbye, Mr–" Gohan stopped himself. "Goodbye, Piccolo." He smiled and Piccolo returned it. Then, he was gone.
It was a matter of a few minutes before Piccolo arrived on New Namek. It wasn't exactly the same as Namek, he knew, but it was almost identical. The green skies, the blue grass beneath his feet. The air was pure and clean. He closed his eyes and let the soft breeze run over him. He let out a long breath before tossing his turban and his cape into the sea, watching the weighted fabric sink quickly. He wouldn't need those anymore. Then he walked, rather than flew, to enjoy the grass beneath his feet. He headed for the nearest village and for the first time in his life, Piccolo knew the feeling of true peace.
Three Years Since Majin Boo's Defeat
Ocha knew the house was empty. His dad was off at the Turtle School, his sister was out at Videl's house for sparring, and his mom had gone to her book club. So he had the whole house to himself. And nothing to worry about.
He wasn't sure when these feelings had started. When he was younger, he thought he'd just been jealous of Shouronpo. She was stronger, faster, she and their dad had an easier connection since she had a natural talent for fighting. But Ocha didn't know why he would feel jealousy toward other girls in that regard. But when he got older, and after that semester with a Gender Studies elective, he'd had a lot of things to think about. About what those feelings might really be, about how comfortable he really felt in his own body. He'd done some reading online, always clearing his browser history just to be safe, and the more he read, the more things started to make sense. Sometimes, when he went to a bookstore or anywhere else to get coffee or tea, he'd give them a different name.
He liked how "Asuka" sounded.
There was the makeup that mom bought for his sister that she never used and some of Shouronpo's old dresses and skirts. Ocha had never really put on muscle like her so they should still fit him fine and Shouronpo would never even know. The one issue was that he grew facial hair as easily as his dad did so he had to shave before he did anything else.
Thanks to the internet, Ocha had a pretty decent idea of how to put on makeup. Well, good enough for a first try, anyway. He looked at himself in the mirror, resting a hand gently against the bob of his hair. How the eyeliner highlighted the small flecks of gold in the green of his eyes. He'd done a pretty good job of contouring and changing the shape of his face, too, he thought. He liked…
No. She liked the way she looked.
And she liked how that sounded.
Four Years since Majin Boo's Defeat
Wadisilmia was a small town in a quiet part of the greater Continent, well south of Epicenter City and along the edge of the greenland and the desert. In years past, life had been hard with the fear of droughts and the lack of readily-available medical supplies, schooling, and other resources but, thanks to Capsule Corps' technological advancement and outreach, those worries were in the past. A quiet town full of simple people with every day like the one before.
Except for today.
Today the air buzzed with energy and the ground trembled under their feet. A great wind stirred into a howl and the clouds gathered and darkened overhead as heat lightning raced through the clouds and lit up the sky.
Hardly an innocuous day for a baby to be born.
"Come on, Doola, just a little more!" Saliga told his wife encouragingly as he sat by her side, letting her squeeze his hand to focus. He was fairly certain that he had at least one broken finger right now but it was a pain he would endure for his wife's sake. Something had happened during this latest pregnancy that had not happened with their other four children, some… force that made her unnaturally strong. Once, when Doola had trouble getting her shoes off, Saliga actually watched her float herself horizontal to remove them before he could take them for her. It seemed that all of that preternatural strength to bring their child into the world.
"Just keep breathing, Doola," Dr. Mechicka told her while she stayed squatted in front of the other woman. "One more big push, come on!" Doola could only offer a wail of something that was not quite pain, not quite hope, and not quite rage as she threw herself back against the hospital bed.
Saliga looked outside, his eye caught by a flash of lightning, and watched the streaks of rain lashing against the windows as he heard the windows rattle from the howling winds. There seemed to be a hurricane swirling directly outside the hospital. It was to be here. It was dangerous. But he would not be anywhere else in the world. He was with the woman he loved and, though he'd seen it four times already, childbirth was no less a miracle.
A slightly horrifying, slightly disgusting miracle but a miracle.
OoOoOoO
"Oh," Krillin and Lazuli muttered in unison under their breath while they watched Marron do handstand pushups on the shore. "You've–"
OoOoOoO
"Got to–" Tenshinhan, Chaozu, and Launch grumbled while lightning raced through their minds, taking their focus off of the Orochi fight.
OoOoOoO
"Be–" Yamcha hissed, the surge causing him to pull too hard and rip the entire engine out of the family car when he'd only meant to take out a burnt spark plug.
OoOoOoO
"Fucking–" Videl swore as both she and Shouronpo's timing was thrown off, causing them to punch one another in the face.
OoOoOoO
"Kidding me!" Suno snapped, jolting upright and throwing the rice noodles she'd been tossing into the air, causing them to splatter and stick to the ceiling. Goku and Goten, who'd heard that entire outburst, raced into the kitchen to see what was the matter.
"What's wrong, Suno?" Goku asked while Goten busied herself by flying up to the ceiling to try and scrape the noodles off.
"Somebody was just born with a huge ki," Suno exclaimed, "Like… crazy big!" Goku grinned instinctively but then put on a frown when Suno shot her a glare.
"Oh, that's… that's really weird," Goku said with a sad, confused tone. Son Goku was very talented at a great many things. But lying had never been one of them.
"What did you do?" Suno asked while folding her arms sternly.
"...Nothing," Goku continued to lie.
"What did you do?"
"What makes you think I did something?"
"Goku!"
"Okay, okay, okay!" Goku cried, worried by that glare. "I… I asked Enma to let Majin Boo retain all his strength when he was reincarnated," she explained, tapping her fingertips together innocently. Suno just glared.
OoOoOoOoO
The other children crowded eagerly around the hospital bed with Saliga as Doola lay exhaustedly, deliriously happy against the bed, her hair jutting out wildly in all directions while the baby lay swaddled in her arms. A perfect, dark-skinned baby boy with a single lock of thick black hair.
"Oob," Doola sighed breathlessly. "I– I'm going to call him… Oob."