Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z, or any of the characters therein. It is a grand saga whose creation is beyond my ability to conceive.

Fearing Shadows and Talking to Dragonballs

There's a stinging in my eyes, an intense one. Anybody else would probably blame it on the wind---it's really strong and seems to be coming from every direction at once---but I'm not gonna be silly like that. There isn't any time to be silly, now. And there isn't any point to it, either.

I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand, and set them ahead again. I've gotta focus, and I've gotta be brave. That's what he would want me to do. I know it is.

Daddy. Gone again . . . and so soon, almost like I never had him back at all---only it hurts a whole lot more this way. He and I haven't gotten to spend much time together, lately. I was really hoping that I'd get to keep him this time . . .

But I don't usually get what I hope for.

I used to, though, back before all this fighting stuff started. Daddy was around all the time back then, and we were best friends. It was so much fun playing hide-and-seek with him in the woods around the house, or listening as he taught me neat things about plants and animals that I never found in any of my schoolbooks . . . Even the days where Mom said I had to stay in and study, Daddy and I were together; I'd sit on his back, reading my textbooks, while he did one-handed push-ups. He always joked that my doing my homework made his training more effective.

One day changed all that, took Daddy away from me: the last day that we actually did anything together---the fight against Vegeta doesn't count. I still remember being snuggled in Daddy's lap as we rode kinto'un to Muten Roshi's island, and he pointed out birds that flew only a couple feet from our faces. Normally, I'd have been terrified being at such a height, but not when Daddy was with me. Everything was safe when Daddy was there . . . always . . .

Not that that didn't get messed up, too. I'm really fuzzy on what happened most of that day, and only a few things are clear at all. Being locked up all alone in a tiny spaceship . . . Daddy yelling that he'd save me . . . Daddy screaming . . . feeling a horrible, blazing fury . . .

And by the time my brain was working right again, Piccolo-san stood over me, told me Daddy was dead, and then left me to fend for myself in the wild.

I learned how, of course, but I can't even count the number of times that I just curled up and cried, praying for Daddy to come and save me, even though I knew he couldn't. But even knowing that, the fact that he never showed up hollowed out my insides and replaced them with the most horrible fear in the universe: Daddy had abandoned me.

That's a stupid thought. I knew that back then just as well as I know it now. As much as I've wanted to hate him sometimes for staying away, I can't. Inside, I understand that he had a big, important reason for what he was doing, and I will never be swayed from one fact: he wouldn't abandon me. He just wouldn't---end of story. He . . . he'd never hurt me like that . . .

Stupid eyes, there they go tearing up again! It's hard enough to see with huge black clouds blocking out all three of Nameksei's suns, I don't need to be crying, too! Why are the tears coming now, anyway? For some weird reason, I was perfectly calm back on the ship with Bulma and Piccolo-san---gosh I hope they left like I told Bulma to---but suddenly . . .

I sniffle loudly, and swallow a lump in my throat, stopping a sudden urge to go back to the ship. There's nothing for me back there, even if Bulma hasn't left the planet yet; Piccolo-san is hurt badly, and'll probably . . . die . . . before he can get help. Bulma still thinks he's evil, so she wouldn't do anything, and Earth is days away from here . . .

No, I'm staying here. With Daddy. We'd all been so busy since he came back to life, all had our own stuff to do, that we had to spend a lot of time apart. Of course, that wasn't the plan; after the battle against the Saiyajins, the separation was supposed to be over. Before he went off by himself to fight Vegeta, Daddy had promised that he'd do something that he hadn't done for a really long time: take me fishing. Darned Frieza! I was gonna hold Daddy to that promise.

But it's my fault as much as anybody else's. If . . . if I'd known that Daddy was going to be . . . to be killed here on Nameksei, maybe I would've waited on Earth until he was healed and come here with him. Maybe we could've gotten back to being as close as we used to be; both of us changed so much in that year that I'm not sure how well we understand each other anymore. I'd been through a lot, seen people die horribly right in front of me, and when Daddy came back, he was comforting, sure . . . but once the fight was over, he seemed to think I'd found some enjoyment of battle, like the kind he had. It wasn't like the old days, when he knew not only that I was afraid of shadows, but also why, and I knew that and why he sometimes talked softly to the four-star dragonball in the years we had it at the house. I really miss that; neither of us can get into the other's head anymore. In fact, Piccolo-san probably understands me better, now . . .

But I still came to Nameksei. Daddy had been fine, and Piccolo-san had needed me. So I left him there, and simply assumed that he'd be around forever. Man, was I stupid! It's too late, now, I guess. Too late for anything. Except . . .

Daddy told me to leave this planet, had screamed at me to do it when I hesitated. That moment feels so long ago, when his hair flared blond, and his eyes froze to green, and his aura was a golden flame. When he'd seemed invincible. Of course, he'd always seemed practically invincible to me---not totally, since I've seen that something terrible can happen to him---but then . . . Then it was as if he was announcing to the whole universe that nothing could touch him. And what reason was there to doubt it? Even Frieza was scared. How could things have turned out this way?

I left the battlefield with Piccolo-san on my back, just as Daddy had ordered. Yeah, I left the battlefield, but I never had any intention of leaving Nameksei without Daddy, no matter what he said. This is the first time that I've ever disobeyed him, and until it seemed like the planet was going to blow up---and it still is, in just a few more minutes---I felt like a rotten son. But now, I'm sure I did the right thing. Being a rotten son would've been leaving my father with no escape from a planet-sized time-bomb.

He's dead, now, thanks to Frieza; I'm sensitive to Daddy's ki, and I can't feel it anymore. Still, it doesn't change anything. We've been too long apart, Daddy and me. Ever since Raditz, I've had nightmares of Daddy calling my name in anguish, and in each one, his voice sounds further and further away . . . But soon, that gap's gonna get smaller again. Soon, we're gonna be together forever.

My stomach flutters a little. I don't wanna die. Really, I don't, but I have to. It's the only way I'll get to see him again, and I miss him too much now to wait for death to come the natural way; I'm just a little kid, so unless I do something to speed up the process, I've got decades and decades of life left. With no Daddy. I can't handle that.

Bulma yelled over the wind, back when I'd just opened the spaceship's door, that I was sending myself on a suicide mission. Of course, I knew that, but I told her different. I forget exactly what I said to her. I'm sure it was something meant to make her feel better, but I don't know if she believed me. Probably not; I've never been very good at lying. Oh, well. When it all comes down to it, it doesn't really matter . . .

What matters is how I die. There's a million ways to do that, and I've seen a few of them. Blowing yourself up . . . taking a huge ki blast head-on . . . draining every last spark of your ki into a single attack . . . getting shot through the heart . . .

That last one, I could have done to myself back on the ship, and saved myself all this grief. It even crossed my mind in the first few seconds after Daddy's ki vanished. But it didn't stay long. What would Daddy think if I died like that? He'd think I'm a coward. A worthless little baby who doesn't deserve to be his son. Sure, he'd never say that to me, but he'd be thinking it. And I'd know it was true.

No, I'm not a coward, anymore. And I won't disgrace my father. I'll show him that he raised me right, even if he hasn't been around much since Raditz came. I'll do Daddy proud.

And the only way to do that is to die like a warrior: in battle, striving to defeat my enemy so that others will be safe. Really, I am doing this to help other people, not myself. I am. Frieza will go to Earth if he survives here, whether I go back there or not. He'd follow me because I'm part Saiyajin, but even if I'm dead . . . he knows where we came from, and we completely wrecked his chance to get immortality. There's just no other way. He can't be allowed to leave here alive.

And he'll pay for what he did to Daddy!

I rub away my tears one more time, and my eyes are dry, now. No more crying. The stomach flutter's back, though. I never realized how close I'm getting to Frieza; I can't see him, yet, but his ki, darker and more vicious than the storm I'm flying through, is sizzling over my body. Not much longer until I reach him.

This is really it.

My fists and teeth clench without any orders from me. Every lesson I've learned about fighting and courage whispers through my brain, drowning out even the wind, and I force the rest of me to respond. Don't show fear, don't lose focus, don't be surprised by anything.

Don't turn back.

There. A tiny speck of white breaking up the blackness. I don't need to sense the ki to know that it's Frieza. One final urge to run away sweeps through me, but I beat it into submission. It would be useless; he's probably already seen my aura, and he'd just hunt me down if I tried to leave. And then he'd get off the planet before it blows up. When it did, I'd have had to face Daddy and tell him that I failed. He'd have said it was all right, that I tried my best, and it couldn't have been helped. But he'd have been disappointed in me. I know that, and I can't spend eternity with that knowledge.

Bigger than a speck now, the white is more of a blotch, and ever so slowly taking on the shape of a small, evil, lizard-like murderer.

I've just got to stall him for a few minutes. That's all I need to win. It's not gonna be easy, though; his ki is powerful, much more so than mine, much more so than any other I've ever felt---except for one, whose owner somehow met his death at the monster's hand. But if the weaker warrior managed victory once today, it can happen again. It has to.

And so my life has to end here. All in all, it was pretty good while it lasted. Although I have no choice anymore, I sort of hate to leave anyone behind . . .

I nearly bring myself up short, surprise hits me so hard. I understand. I understand it all, suddenly. Daddy . . . he never really wanted to leave me. Here I've been wasting all this time wondering about it, and he'd wanted to stay, all along. But he always, always did what he felt he had to. Just like I'm doing.

Maybe we're not as far apart as I thought.

Maybe . . . maybe we're kind of like Nameksei. Things slowly collapsing all around me, and a whole world . . . a whole universe is on the edge of destruction. Yeah, Daddy and me are a bit like that, but unlike Nameksei, death will put things back to the way they should be. They'll be fixed. We'll be whole again.

And now I pull myself up short, intentionally this time, a mere few feet away from Frieza. He looks bigger than before, a lot more muscular, but it's pretty obvious that he's hurt; bruise after bruise has darkened his mostly-white skin, and in some places red blood has dried, while in others it is still flowing out. The battle must have been a fierce one. Shock at the sight of me flickers in his cold eyes for a second, before fading into amusement.

I can stall him long enough if I really try. I know I can. And when it's all over, I'll see Daddy again, and we can put our little universe back together. Maybe it can never be exactly like the days of fearing shadows and talking to dragonballs, but we'll figure each other out. That's the most important thing.

I take a deep breath, and harden my stare. The amusement is still plain on Frieza's face, and if anything, it's gotten stronger. I won't be intimidated, though. This is for Daddy. And with that thought inside me, I softly and determinedly give my challenge:

"Don't leave now. It's not over, yet."