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What We're Left	By : CYavorski Category: Dragon Ball Z > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 906 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Ball/Z/GT; Nor do I make any profit from this. It is simply for fun and improvement.

Chapter List
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Nostalgia and Contemplation; Piccolo Carries On

Author’s Note

Ah yes, something I forgot to mention in chapter one. Italics are direct thoughts, or flashbacks if indicated, Quotations signify speaking, ‘single quotations’ signify speaking through a mental link (such as Piccolo and Dende, or when Kami and Nail “speak”. This one is in Piccolo’s POV and it is the first time I’ve done so. I’m keeping him as close to in character as he is at the end of the Cell Games, so please keep this in mind while reading.

FYI: Yes, It will become a Yaoi; although it is currently angsty and fluffy

Disclaimer: I don’t own DBZ, I’m not making any money, etc, etc…

*~*~*~*~*~*~*-Break-~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Water.

Absolutely nothing but the sound of water and the wind.

Not even the creatures that normally call this place home make any sound, least not anything loud enough for even my heightened hearing to pick up. It’s as if they have become acclimated to my presence over the years I’ve been returning to this spot. I’ve grown quite attached to this place; I spent a great deal of time here while I prepared to face Son and when I trained Gohan.

Gohan, you’ve no idea how proud I am…you’ve grown into more than I ever thought possible.

It is strange to think about the events that took place to create the present situation…this hard won time of peace. The endless training, the constant fear over-shadowing everything, the nagging at the back of our minds when we had nothing to distract ourselves.

I almost miss the constant threat of world destruction…at least then there was something to work towards. Not now though….now, there is nothing, and I don’t know what to do with myself. I am no longer the guardian of the Earth, I am no longer required to protect the Earth from strife…I am no longer needed to teach and watch over my son…Wonder what he’d would say if he knew I thought of him like that…

The others, they had lives before this, reasons to continue this miserable existence, reasons that made their existence less miserable. I had nothing, and in truth, have nothing save Gohan. I was born with a single purpose, and throughout the years, I neglected that purpose for a greater good, to fight a common enemy. It would seem that I have put off my destiny so long it has become moot. My soul purpose was taken from me, though reflecting on it now, I have my doubts that it would have ever come to fruition. My whole life I had considered myself a demon spawn, something that had crawled out of the bowels of Other World to wreak havoc on existence. Cliché, yes, but I had nothing but the humans to base my knowledge on. They treated me like an animal, so I became one, fueled by my father’s memories and hatred of Goku.

Goku…

I had begun to think of him as an ally, as someone I could trust to treat me as though I were normal. Though, considering Goku’s naiveté, he may have though I was…he never was too bright. I am eternally thankful that Gohan did not inherit his father’s intelligence...or lack thereof. The kid is far too perceptive for his own good, far too intelligent, far too powerful…and far too innocent with everything that he’s seen. There is much about the humans that I don’t understand, but I have seen a great deal, seen what these idiots do to one another. I have seen the darkest of not only the humans but of the universe and even I cannot call myself a monster in comparison. Not that many people do considering some of the other creatures who pass among them. Enough time has passed to ensure that the menace of Piccolo Diamao has ceased to strike fear in the hearts of the masses and being in association with Son I can walk the Earth without worry, drawing only fascination at my appearance and dress.

Even still, I have nowhere to go now, save the lookout, and though it warms my spirits to hear about my native people, there is only so much I can stand. I have always lived in solitude; I have no patience with people outside of battle, with the exception of Gohan. Kami’s fondness for the obsequious black balloon has all but been consumed by my irritation for it. I’ve no other…well, maybe.

It’s been bugging me for ages now, this tidbit of knowledge that I’ve tucked away. Or rather, tidbit of Kami’s knowledge, but as time wears on it seems that the separation between myself and Kami (and Nail) is collapsing. That, or Kami as a distinct personality is fading…it has gotten to the point where I’m not even sure what memories are mine and which are his. I have existed physically for only 16 years, but my mind…my mind is far older than I feel. I remember things long before my physical birth, things back in the Yunzubut Mountains, of splitting in two, of growing old and watching the Earth struggle to defend itself from outside (and sometimes internal) threats all targeting one individual. I remember Namek, and the effort to rebuild after the Great Disaster that only Elder Guru survived. I remember training Gohan and Dende, but at the same time, I remember training Yamcha, Tien and Krillin.

I can feel myself fall out of my meditation at the thought of the monk. He’s really the cause of all of this confusion. I honestly don’t know what to make of this situation, let alone how to handle it or even how I feel about it.

The monk and Goku have been joint at the hip nearly their entire lives, and as such, he has always been at the periphery of my gaze. It was not hard to find the young Buddha nearby when Son’s name was whispered. Always present, but melding into the background and falling short of coming to the forefront of battle. Support, a healer and occasionally a forerunner trapped in the heat of battle.

He was always just…there. Annoying, often funny when scared shitless, but nevertheless just kind of…there. He was never the strongest, never really a significant threat, nor so overtly weak that he required saving constantly. Okay, so maybe he needed saving a lot, but less often than other individuals. And he has a habit of coming up with new attacks that even have me surprised, focusing more on wit and intelligence to win out against stronger opponents. And I’ll be the first to admit he’s one of the fastest of the group. Even Vegeta has to struggle in order to keep up with the monk. He’s fast, but he lacks actual power, but still, for a human and all of their limitations, he far exceeds what he was meant for. Had this planet not been under Freezia’s radar, had the Saiyans missed it, overlooked it, he would have been the only saving grace these people had, besides myself. I would be lying if I said it would have been a dishonor. Although I would have been savior and oppressor in one, but all the same.

Lingering thoughts and memories cloud my mind’s eye as I desperately grasp at a sense of calm. Images and words flicking in and out of the forefront of my thoughts; every meeting, every interaction gone over, analyzed, examined, subtexts unraveled, and still I can scarcely believe that this has happened.

Love and affection have never been prevalent in my life. Years upon years in the Yunzibut Mountains with none but the occasional migrating birds and mountain goats that called the high plateaus home. Twice a year they flew by, never stopping for more than a day or two before continuing on their journey. When I was young, I use to think that the birds were magical because they could fly; they came from somewhere else and went somewhere else. They were different from the goats and I (although I was different from both of them), they were not trapped in the barren land that haunts my dreams even now. The crippling isolation; while I have grown accustomed to and even prefer it now, then, it was my bane, my fear. To a child, even a child of Namek, abandonment is the worst feeling, the greatest betrayal. Year after year I asked the birds to take me with them…they never granted my wish, and over time I grew to hate them. I feared their arrival every fall and spring, and chased them and threw stones at them when they landed. When a young hatchling met the brunt of my anger, it ceased to be. I begged the little bird’s forgiveness and buried it overlooking the drop off.

This was the origin of the great anger, the great evil that barred my initial appeal to the guardian of Earth. This was my first taste of doubt, of feeling unworthy, monstrous.

‘Losing focus over someone other than Gohan? Piccolo, I believe you are developing a heart.’ There is no tangible voice that can be heard (I am not a schitsophenic) but I growl at the thought anyway. While Kami and Nail as individual entities no longer exist in any natural sense, their memories and distinct personalities linger like a bad smell. I have been finding that my subconscious has taken on their characteristics and have developed a nagging commentary to my life. The worst part being that I cannot argue back as I would be arguing with myself as opposed to a separate individual living inside my head and that would mean I have finally lost my sanity.

Not that qualifying all of this to myself is any better…

‘We’ve just overcome a great threat and have attained a moment of peace. It is not surprising that I cannot keep focused’

I hear a distinctly Kami sounding chuckle from the depths of my mind. I cringe again and fall back into my meditative state.

‘You crave Gohan’s attention, affection. You call him friend, but is he alone…?’

As my body hit the water I knew it was going to be a long afternoon.

[i.e. He fell out of meditation so hard he actually fell into the pool beneath]

*~*~*~*~*Krillin’s POV*~*~*~*~*~*~*

By the time I get back to Kame house, I’m more than ecstatic. As usual, I find my former Master lounging in the sun with a women’s fitness magazine. Some things don’t ever change. I spend the next twenty minutes unpacking groceries and making sure everything that needs to goes in the refrigerator and freezer before I leave the rest. I bound up the stairs two at a time and burst into my room, making a beeline for the closet and my suitcase. I might be a geek, but I don’t own very much; just the necessities for civilized life and a few mementos.

In the back of my closet, there are a few odds and ends tucked secretly away in a box.

My old turtle shell, the turtle insignia rock that smelled of oranges (not that I could smell it, it probably smelled more like me now anyway), a map Goku and I drew of our training route so I wouldn’t get lost (he always teased me about my poor sense of direction), an empty soap box (I thought I would never be clean again), a snapshot of Master Roshi in Jackie Chun’s clothes (taken by Yamcha and given to us after the tournament), a lagoon blue paint chip, a name card from the 22^nd Tenkaichi Budokai, and Piccolo’s weighted cap from the 23^rd Tenkaichi Budokai. These things were piled on the top, separated from everything else by an old turtle gi that no longer fits. Under it are more memories…darker.

A bloodstained cuff weight, Gohan’s hat sans the four-star dragonball, a scouter, Piccolo’s tattered belt, a rock and my Saiyan armor from Namek, a broken Dragon Radar, a dried senzu bean, the empty Black Water Mist sacred jar, some computer parts and a bright red button, and a microchip with two capital R’s written in white on a red helix. Small tokens, small pieces of times that have engraved themselves into my subconscious. Pieces of my past.

I’ve always been a bit sentimental, but perhaps that was due to becoming a monk at such a young age. As a Buddhist, things aren’t important, but I’ve always been a bit unconventional. I don’t covet possessions exactly, but memories stored in physical objects. Maybe I’ll give some of it to Gohan when he’s older and has had time to move on. I place everything back into the box and set it beside my empty suitcase. I start rolling up my clothes and packing them away. Old training gi’s, some street clothes, a seafoam jacket, my white suede hat and dress shoes (still can’t believe they survived), and other clothes. It’s only partway full when I finish. I know I can’t leave just yet, but I want to be packed and ready.

I turn to the bed and am only slightly startled to see the sheets rumpled and hanging off the side. I set to tidy them when a shade of wood brown makes me kneel and reach under the fallen sheet.

Piccolo’s shoes.

I frown, bewildered and now in the possession of a pair of shoes that I cannot wear and am not sure if I should return. I mean, the guy can create clothing out of nothing. Doesn’t that break the laws of physics? Wait, doesn’t nearly everything we do beak the laws of physics? Like flying, and supersonic speed and teleportation? Note to self, check up on that.

I finish making the bed and store everything else in the box and leave my suitcase open.

I flop down on the floor and start making a list of everything that I need to do before I can actually find a decent place.

I’ll need to scout out a suitable place or find an empty plot in the city. Nah, I’m a monk and a hermit, I’ll deal. Besides, I won’t have to buy the plot and pay city taxes that way. Someplace with water, and close to the sea if funds get low. Big enough for a short runway and enough sun. Water, wait no, a river…a delta. Island or mainland? Mainland would be closer to the city, cut down on gas and time. Krillin! You can fly, stupid! The plane is for hauling stuff. But it would be weird to just fly into work, I’ll need to be careful not to be seen by pep…

And then it hits me…

I have never held down a proper job. Fuck.

*~*~*~*~*Piccolo’s POV*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Everything comes back to this. Everything. I don’t know what my purpose is anymore. I don’t know what comes after this. Peace without a latent threat. Peace without a goal. My only interaction with civilization besides the Tenkaichi Budokai was attempting to placate Son’s wife and getting a driver’s license. That, of course, went over real well. Though I recall doing rather well. Not that I couldn’t get one now, but there isn’t a real reason to. I don’t live within the confines of human society. Again, not that I couldn’t, I just…don’t. I had the excuse of not knowing, but as I am no longer a spawn of a cast-off, I distinctly remember watching and learning all of human nature; good and evil. I know how to be human, in theory…but I’m not human. I am more removed from humans than the Saiyans are (or were).

I’ve taken to rolling the tips of my antenna between my fingers. As a child, it calmed me when I was overcome with blinding rage or scathing loneliness. Dende caught me once (a scant moment of weakness) and blushed profusely before turning away. When I merged with Nail, I remembered everything he had, but time had caused my memories to fade and only those pertinent to my current life remained. It took much needling and false starts before Dende finally admitted that it was a form of self-pleasure. I thought it was obvious until I understood his meaning. While in adolescence, Nameks undergo a development of what humans call secondary sexual organs. It really is just a lengthening of the urinary duct from a small nub to something resembling a penis with a series of hypersensitive glands to monitor the body’s chemistry through waste water. Until this development, to relieve stress, young Namekian children play with their less sensitive antennae. I cannot believe I was masturbating in front of Dende! The whole ordeal was humiliating, but I can’t exactly be blamed for not understanding Namek cultural cues having not been raised in the environment.

Now, alone, I do it whenever my frustration takes the reins of my emotions. It doesn’t hold the same significance it holds for Dende, and therefore causes me no guilt or shame. I shouldn’t need this, shouldn’t be so anxious about what happens now. Life goes on as it would always go on, but I am still lost. I can’t just…exist, can I?

What do people do in their lives? How do they…exist? Work? Only to earn money to pay for goods and services, unnecessary. Family? Besides Dende, I am the only one of my kind on Earth…and I have no immediate desire to raise another brat. Friends? Are they my friends? Gohan is, but is that all? What about the Monk?

We have never been more than unintended allies. Nothing more than coming together to fight a common enemy. We never had close contact, but still, he’s the closest thing I have to a friend besides Gohan, now that Goku has passed on. And it is still strange to think anyone would want to know me; I still have difficulty accepting that Gohan became my friend. I wouldn’t trade him for the world, but it’s been so ingrained in me that I’m something to be feared. What do the others think of me? An ally? An enemy? A shield, protector…a friend? I am not starting from nothing, but I don’t know what my place is with these people. What am I?

*~End~*
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