Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Garrulous and Gritless ❯ I, 21: Bulma ( Chapter 21 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: ShiningMoon 
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Adventure / Action / Comedy / Drama / Psychological / Romance | Type: Divergence | Uploaded On: 01.30.2011 | Pages: 2 | Words: 3.2K | Visits: 242 | Status: Completed
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Adventure / Action / Comedy / Drama / Psychological / Romance | Type: Divergence | Uploaded On: 01.30.2011 | Pages: 2 | Words: 3.2K | Visits: 242 | Status: Completed
"Why did you do it?"
I nearly scream but I'm glad I don't when I open my eyes and bolt up, because I come face to face with...er...well...everybody. In particular, Piccolo is standing straight across from me. Ah, just another morning in the Briefs household, right? And you wonder how I manage to sleep soundly.
He's the one who had spoken, and, gods, he looks like if I would have screamed at suddenly being awakened by what looks to me like some kind of intervention crew, by the way they're all staring me down, he probably would have snapped my head off.
"What the hell is going on?" I ask. I think it's a perfectly valid question. Beside Piccolo, on the one side, is Gohan; and beside him, Tenshinhan and, what's his name, Chaotzu. On the other side of him are Son, Kuririn, and Yamcha. My chest jumps a bit—I haven't seen him since we had to rush him to the healing tank. Son said he tried some technique and (with his usual laugh) that apparently his teacher wasn't kidding when he said it was hard on the body. I'm not sure if Son even felt bad about having basically taught Yamcha something that'll kill him if he follows through with it; mostly, now, he keeps wondering why he can pull it off without too much trouble, but the others can't. I didn't hear much else about it, besides Gohan's quick whispered comment that his guess had something to do with him being Saiyan, and that, naturally, Son wanted to hear none of it.
Yamcha's expression is painfully wrathful—I've never seen him so angry, and to see it focused on me, well...damn. Piccolo's face, meanwhile, is heavy with worry, and whatever this latest thing is that's going on, I can't say I blame him at least for being concerned over his (or our) impending doom.
"That motherfucker Raditz," Yamcha hisses out.
"He gathered the dragonballs," Kuririn tells me, nervous, with his hands all twitchy and his eyebrows arced high.
"And he made a wish," Son says, in that damn creepy serious voice of his. "And..."
"And I didn't hear it," Gohan says, "but I got near enough to see, he said something, and he...disappeared."
"Did he have a tail?" I ask. Naturally, that's what he'd be wishing for. Disappearing would be...bizarre...but maybe he just rushed away and Gohan didn't catch that part.
The poor distraught kid shakes his head. "I thought it was what he'd wish for," he says. "But he's just...gone. His ki isn't anywhere on Earth, not that I can tell at least."
"Nor I," Piccolo adds.
"Shit," I say, looking over all of them. Tenshinhan just stands there giving me this look like I've betrayed all of them, like he never really trusted me much in the first place—a bit like what Piccolo's doing, but quieter, and, therefore, scarier.
"'Shit' is right," Yamcha says. "What the hell were you thinking?"
"I didn't know," I tell him. "I...had no idea he was doing anything. I should have...damn," by now I'm just hissing it under my breath. It explains him kissing me like he did, and also that bag he was carrying around—fucking dirty Saiyan liar. But where did he go? "Maybe he's just suppressing his energy and he's still around?"
Son seems shocked at the idea. "He couldn't control his ki at all," he assures me. "There's no way he could just do that."
"He can," Gohan whispers. The others look at him with varying levels of surprise; Piccolo is the least affected, standing there like he was expecting to hear it. Maybe he knew, or maybe—what's it Raditz called him, a Namekian?—maybe Namekians are just masters of looking like they don't give a damn. I think, though, that he's genuinely not surprised. Yamcha, on the other hand, looks like he might be ready to strangle the kid—well, I mean, not really, because of the many things a guy like Yamcha can do, I don't think harming one of his best friend's children is one of them—and Son only a margin less bothered. Shit, I didn't know it was such a secret...
"What do you mean, Gohan?" Son asks. "This ain't a very good time to joke around, y'know?"
"I'm not joking," he says, rotating the wristbands of his outfit carefully. His voice is quivering but he's clearly trying to sound strong: "I taught him."
"Dammit, Gohan!" Son shouts, and it looks like he's holding something back. I don't think any of us were expecting it—the collective heartbeat of the room stills for a moment while it echoes through all of us. "So he could sneak up on me and kill me again, or what? You know, I let him live at first 'cause I thought he could become a good guy, but then he turned around and did that to me!" his breath hisses in and out. "He don't know how to fight fair. How d'you think I felt when I came back and he was right there, huh, standing with all you guys? All I can say is, 'least it was me and not Kuririn or Piccolo he killed, or we couldn'ta brought 'em back." His eyes are boring into mine and anything I might have wanted to say is caught in my throat. I didn't think Son was...well, capable of...I don't know, feeling anything other than excitement. The once or twice I've seen him get like this...well, damn, it's not something I like thinking about. "You know all he woulda done is wait 'til his friends showed up, and let them beat us up! All he is, is a rotten guy! Rotten all the way through, like all the guys before who tried to pull stuff like this—like the Red Ribbon Army and—"
"And me," Piccolo says. I'd be lying if I said I didn't think he looked the least bit hurt over it. I mean, what a great welcome to fighting with the good guys, right? Like he needed more reasons to regret teaming up with Son. Not that he doesn't still freak me out, but...less than before, I guess. He's not the same as he used to be. I think we have Gohan to thank for that.
"You're different," Son finally says.
"Why?" Gohan asks, and that's maybe even more shocking than Son's outburst. Even Piccolo looks surprised, this time.
"Well, he's not trying to kill me, for one thing," Son answers.
"For now," Piccolo and Gohan say at the same time.
"You really think he's gonna kill me?" Son asks Gohan. I can't tell if he's surprised, or just stuffing down his anger and it's coming out as shock. "Like as soon as the Saiyans are gone he'll turn around and do me in, after all this?"
"Maybe not," Gohan says, and already I can tell that this kid is wise beyond his years, and maybe even his father's. I had my doubts, at first, because he hardly spoke, so it was hard to tell, but clearly being around these guys—and, I'm guessing, mostly, Piccolo—has been good for him. He's so...confident. Well, in comparison to how he was before. He looks like his knees are a little shaky, but, shoot, he's openly arguing with someone—an adult—his own father—this little kid. "But I bet that if we hadn't had to spend all this time together training to fight the Saiyans, he woulda done it." He pauses. "I bet he woulda come and killed you, and kept anybody from bringing you back to life, and I'd grow up not having a father."
Piccolo grunts. "It doesn't matter, because I'm going to die if we don't change something soon, and quickly. What's more, we don't know what Raditz has done, or how it will affect our battle with the Saiyans, if at all." His eyes narrow at me, like he thinks I'm the most likely to know what he would have wished for if not a tail—and, well, if it's anyone, it would be me, but—I don't. Shit, if he had something else he wanted besides the tail, how did he ever hide it from me? The only other things he ever claimed wanting were to get off the planet, and...
"Maybe he wished himself off of Earth," I guess.
"To where?" Piccolo asks as he inclines his head, like he thinks my guess might be a good one. Hell, it makes sense—since he disappeared from Earth, and all...
"Maybe to wherever the others are—the other Saiyans," I say, but my gut turns around at the thought of it. He's different than them, right? He wouldn't just...I mean, he even always talked about how he never really liked Vegeta (and who can blame him? he seems like a total prick), but, maybe...I mean...still, he always seemed proud of being a Saiyan...I don't know, I wouldn't want to associate myself with those other two. Oh—"I know; I can use the scouter to contact them, and we'll find out if he's with them!"
"You can what?" Yamcha says. "You're going to talk to them again?" Oh, great, this doesn't make me look too good, does it? He mutters something under his breath about fraternizing with the enemy and I roll my eyes at him. It's true, it still tears at me, to think that it was because of Raditz that I'm not with Yamcha anymore, but...I've been working on trying to convince myself that it would have happened anyway. Right? But I love the guy...I don't know...and what if Raditz isn't coming back? Or if the fucker breaks his promise and just comes back with his buddies and kills us all? Damn, I am so stupid.
"Geez, it's just to gather more information," I say, and all is right with the world again, aside from my own lingering thoughts. It's true; no way I'd even consider doing anything else with those jackasses. Still, the way he said it just had me convinced for a second that I really was a traitor, somehow...but that doesn't make any sense. Not, at least, in regards to those two Saiyans. The other? That's up for debate.
"Do it," Piccolo says, and when I throw the covers off and scurry out of bed he averts his eyes, along with some of the others. Tch, it's not like they can see anything—I'm wearing a big, baggy t-shirt, for goodness' sake, but—whatever, modesty is their problem, not mine. I sprint downstairs and open my desk drawer—not there, but, maybe, I put it in the other—no—but maybe it's on—shit, shit, shit—
And back up the stairs I sprint, to find that the others have moved into the living room. "It's not there," I blurt, out of breath. "Raditz must have taken it."
Well, those who were pissed about it before are more so now. Sure, harass me about wanting to contact them with the scouter and then be angry when I can't. But, as per usual, my brilliance shines through at just the right moment. "I can build a new one," I say. "I've memorized the circuitry backwards and forwards, got all my sketches. It'll be easy. Then," I grin, "I can contact Raditz and find out where the hell he went!"
"Good," Piccolo says, and Gohan seems relieved—maybe because this actually reassures him, or maybe because Son seems to have calmed down substantially.
"You always come through, Bulma," Son says to me. "Maybe you could build another radar, too, in case we need to use the dragonballs after we fight the Saiyans?" Piccolo shoots him a dirty look, assumedly because as per usual, Son seems to have totally forgotten small details like the fact that Kami seems absolutely positive that he and Piccolo are going to die, and soon.
"I will," I say, shrugging at Piccolo with a little smile so he knows that I know that Son's forgotten. Can't hurt, anyway, right?
I'm also going to start pouring myself into finishing that spaceship, and getting everything just right. Part of me wonders if Raditz phrased whatever his wish was really stupidly, and ended up being transported away (I wouldn't put it past Shenlong) to another planet or something that. And if that's the case, well, maybe I'll need to go get him back. Not that I'm going to tell anyone else any of this, besides maybe Gohan or Piccolo. Before I forget about that, I pace over around the corner to the kitchen and look on the counter, for where my father said he'd leave the ship capsule for me. It's gone, and for a second I figure he must have just taken it back himself to work on in the lab today—because I saw it there yesterday afternoon—but that's before I remember that he's been gone since yesterday evening to some conference. ...Aw, shit. Raditz took the [unfinished—nonoperational—stupid bastard] ship, too.
Guess I'll be starting from scratch. Oh well...at least I have all the plans. It'll only take a few weeks at most to build back what I had.
And yeah, I'm a little pissed at Raditz. Enough that I have to grin a little bit imagining him getting ready to go somewhere, throwing down the capsule (assuming he's even figured out how to use them, but I guess if he took it, he must have), and walking into the ship to find exposed circuitry everywhere, a few coffee cups, and tools, and...
God. Fucking. Dammit.
And all my plans.
Guess I really will be starting from scratch.
Before any of the others can pester me with their personal problems with each other (or, more likely, with Raditz, and their assumption that all of this is my fault), I heave a sigh and head down to the lab to refresh myself on how the pod works. Redoing everything won't be so bad—I did it once and I can do it again—but—talk about sucking away all my free time. I want to get this thing done fast, because, to be honest, I know that if it comes to looking like the Saiyans are going to blow up the planet—I'm getting out of here. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that," I mutter, shutting the door to the lab behind me and turning down the hallway to where I've been keeping the pod, only to smack into somebody who was stupidly standing right in my way.
"You're building a ship, right?" It's Piccolo.
"Rebuilding, more like," I mutter, too upset to be surprised at the moment. "Raditz took the unfinished one, and I had all my schematics in there because I'd just been working on it."
"Kami has told me," he says, "that he has something that may be of interest to show you." His eyes bore into mine in that particularly intense, Piccolo way. "It is wise to have an escape plan," he comments, like he's been listening to my thoughts. "I will take you to Kami, but you must swear to me you will do me one service."
Yikes. I don't want to know what someone like Piccolo asks of someone like me. Still, he's got that same heavy look about him. Yeesh, I don't know how Namekian aging works, but if he stays this worried he'll look just like Kami before the Saiyans even arrive. "Sure," I mouth.
"If the Saiyans begin to overpower Son Goku and his friends, and myself, you will take Gohan with you when you leave." Damn. He is serious about this.
"I don't plan on being anywhere near the battle," I tell him. "I don't know how I'd do such a thing."
"I will tell Son and the others to have one of them bring Gohan to you, if such a situation should arise," he says. "I am fearful...Gohan will...make unwise judgments should anyone close to him perish."
He's talking about himself, when he says "anyone close to him," and we both know it. I don't know how those two became such good friends, but, I'm in awe of it. That Gohan could do something like that to make Piccolo...care... It also explains how Raditz became less of a jerk the more time he spent with Gohan. Well, I thought he was less of a jerk. Tch. Asshole.
"Okay," I say. "Of course." I don't need to be told twice—hell, if I'm going into space, I wouldn't complain about bringing somebody ridiculously strong along with me. In any case, I heard about how he exploded at Raditz when he was about to kill Son—the first time, I mean. I guess nothing quite that bad happened the second time—just because things were a little different—and I guess I'm glad of it or I'd probably have had to rebuild the whole lab, from the sound of it. So I guess I can see where Piccolo's coming from, as far as goes Gohan not making rational decisions. After all, he's just a kid.
His eyes keep drilling through me and I try to hold strong so that he knows I'm serious about it; finally, Piccolo nods. "Good. Then you will accompany me to where Kami and Mister Popo are waiting for you." Sort of awkwardly, he grabs me around my sides, and I try not to fidget. Of course, the flying, and I'm sure I couldn't talk him into just telling me the way while I fly a plane. Piccolo seems just as uncomfortable with picking me up as I am with his rough green hands and their big claws digging into my sides. He glances around, considering that if he runs me back upstairs and out an actual door, he might risk being seen—at least, I assume that's his rationale for diving through the window (suspiciously already open—I bet it's where Raditz left through) before rocketing us both up into the sky.
Yup, just another morning for Bulma Briefs.
Converting /tmp/phpb6KXSo to /dev/stdout
I nearly scream but I'm glad I don't when I open my eyes and bolt up, because I come face to face with...er...well...everybody. In particular, Piccolo is standing straight across from me. Ah, just another morning in the Briefs household, right? And you wonder how I manage to sleep soundly.
He's the one who had spoken, and, gods, he looks like if I would have screamed at suddenly being awakened by what looks to me like some kind of intervention crew, by the way they're all staring me down, he probably would have snapped my head off.
"What the hell is going on?" I ask. I think it's a perfectly valid question. Beside Piccolo, on the one side, is Gohan; and beside him, Tenshinhan and, what's his name, Chaotzu. On the other side of him are Son, Kuririn, and Yamcha. My chest jumps a bit—I haven't seen him since we had to rush him to the healing tank. Son said he tried some technique and (with his usual laugh) that apparently his teacher wasn't kidding when he said it was hard on the body. I'm not sure if Son even felt bad about having basically taught Yamcha something that'll kill him if he follows through with it; mostly, now, he keeps wondering why he can pull it off without too much trouble, but the others can't. I didn't hear much else about it, besides Gohan's quick whispered comment that his guess had something to do with him being Saiyan, and that, naturally, Son wanted to hear none of it.
Yamcha's expression is painfully wrathful—I've never seen him so angry, and to see it focused on me, well...damn. Piccolo's face, meanwhile, is heavy with worry, and whatever this latest thing is that's going on, I can't say I blame him at least for being concerned over his (or our) impending doom.
"That motherfucker Raditz," Yamcha hisses out.
"He gathered the dragonballs," Kuririn tells me, nervous, with his hands all twitchy and his eyebrows arced high.
"And he made a wish," Son says, in that damn creepy serious voice of his. "And..."
"And I didn't hear it," Gohan says, "but I got near enough to see, he said something, and he...disappeared."
"Did he have a tail?" I ask. Naturally, that's what he'd be wishing for. Disappearing would be...bizarre...but maybe he just rushed away and Gohan didn't catch that part.
The poor distraught kid shakes his head. "I thought it was what he'd wish for," he says. "But he's just...gone. His ki isn't anywhere on Earth, not that I can tell at least."
"Nor I," Piccolo adds.
"Shit," I say, looking over all of them. Tenshinhan just stands there giving me this look like I've betrayed all of them, like he never really trusted me much in the first place—a bit like what Piccolo's doing, but quieter, and, therefore, scarier.
"'Shit' is right," Yamcha says. "What the hell were you thinking?"
"I didn't know," I tell him. "I...had no idea he was doing anything. I should have...damn," by now I'm just hissing it under my breath. It explains him kissing me like he did, and also that bag he was carrying around—fucking dirty Saiyan liar. But where did he go? "Maybe he's just suppressing his energy and he's still around?"
Son seems shocked at the idea. "He couldn't control his ki at all," he assures me. "There's no way he could just do that."
"He can," Gohan whispers. The others look at him with varying levels of surprise; Piccolo is the least affected, standing there like he was expecting to hear it. Maybe he knew, or maybe—what's it Raditz called him, a Namekian?—maybe Namekians are just masters of looking like they don't give a damn. I think, though, that he's genuinely not surprised. Yamcha, on the other hand, looks like he might be ready to strangle the kid—well, I mean, not really, because of the many things a guy like Yamcha can do, I don't think harming one of his best friend's children is one of them—and Son only a margin less bothered. Shit, I didn't know it was such a secret...
"What do you mean, Gohan?" Son asks. "This ain't a very good time to joke around, y'know?"
"I'm not joking," he says, rotating the wristbands of his outfit carefully. His voice is quivering but he's clearly trying to sound strong: "I taught him."
"Dammit, Gohan!" Son shouts, and it looks like he's holding something back. I don't think any of us were expecting it—the collective heartbeat of the room stills for a moment while it echoes through all of us. "So he could sneak up on me and kill me again, or what? You know, I let him live at first 'cause I thought he could become a good guy, but then he turned around and did that to me!" his breath hisses in and out. "He don't know how to fight fair. How d'you think I felt when I came back and he was right there, huh, standing with all you guys? All I can say is, 'least it was me and not Kuririn or Piccolo he killed, or we couldn'ta brought 'em back." His eyes are boring into mine and anything I might have wanted to say is caught in my throat. I didn't think Son was...well, capable of...I don't know, feeling anything other than excitement. The once or twice I've seen him get like this...well, damn, it's not something I like thinking about. "You know all he woulda done is wait 'til his friends showed up, and let them beat us up! All he is, is a rotten guy! Rotten all the way through, like all the guys before who tried to pull stuff like this—like the Red Ribbon Army and—"
"And me," Piccolo says. I'd be lying if I said I didn't think he looked the least bit hurt over it. I mean, what a great welcome to fighting with the good guys, right? Like he needed more reasons to regret teaming up with Son. Not that he doesn't still freak me out, but...less than before, I guess. He's not the same as he used to be. I think we have Gohan to thank for that.
"You're different," Son finally says.
"Why?" Gohan asks, and that's maybe even more shocking than Son's outburst. Even Piccolo looks surprised, this time.
"Well, he's not trying to kill me, for one thing," Son answers.
"For now," Piccolo and Gohan say at the same time.
"You really think he's gonna kill me?" Son asks Gohan. I can't tell if he's surprised, or just stuffing down his anger and it's coming out as shock. "Like as soon as the Saiyans are gone he'll turn around and do me in, after all this?"
"Maybe not," Gohan says, and already I can tell that this kid is wise beyond his years, and maybe even his father's. I had my doubts, at first, because he hardly spoke, so it was hard to tell, but clearly being around these guys—and, I'm guessing, mostly, Piccolo—has been good for him. He's so...confident. Well, in comparison to how he was before. He looks like his knees are a little shaky, but, shoot, he's openly arguing with someone—an adult—his own father—this little kid. "But I bet that if we hadn't had to spend all this time together training to fight the Saiyans, he woulda done it." He pauses. "I bet he woulda come and killed you, and kept anybody from bringing you back to life, and I'd grow up not having a father."
Piccolo grunts. "It doesn't matter, because I'm going to die if we don't change something soon, and quickly. What's more, we don't know what Raditz has done, or how it will affect our battle with the Saiyans, if at all." His eyes narrow at me, like he thinks I'm the most likely to know what he would have wished for if not a tail—and, well, if it's anyone, it would be me, but—I don't. Shit, if he had something else he wanted besides the tail, how did he ever hide it from me? The only other things he ever claimed wanting were to get off the planet, and...
"Maybe he wished himself off of Earth," I guess.
"To where?" Piccolo asks as he inclines his head, like he thinks my guess might be a good one. Hell, it makes sense—since he disappeared from Earth, and all...
"Maybe to wherever the others are—the other Saiyans," I say, but my gut turns around at the thought of it. He's different than them, right? He wouldn't just...I mean, he even always talked about how he never really liked Vegeta (and who can blame him? he seems like a total prick), but, maybe...I mean...still, he always seemed proud of being a Saiyan...I don't know, I wouldn't want to associate myself with those other two. Oh—"I know; I can use the scouter to contact them, and we'll find out if he's with them!"
"You can what?" Yamcha says. "You're going to talk to them again?" Oh, great, this doesn't make me look too good, does it? He mutters something under his breath about fraternizing with the enemy and I roll my eyes at him. It's true, it still tears at me, to think that it was because of Raditz that I'm not with Yamcha anymore, but...I've been working on trying to convince myself that it would have happened anyway. Right? But I love the guy...I don't know...and what if Raditz isn't coming back? Or if the fucker breaks his promise and just comes back with his buddies and kills us all? Damn, I am so stupid.
"Geez, it's just to gather more information," I say, and all is right with the world again, aside from my own lingering thoughts. It's true; no way I'd even consider doing anything else with those jackasses. Still, the way he said it just had me convinced for a second that I really was a traitor, somehow...but that doesn't make any sense. Not, at least, in regards to those two Saiyans. The other? That's up for debate.
"Do it," Piccolo says, and when I throw the covers off and scurry out of bed he averts his eyes, along with some of the others. Tch, it's not like they can see anything—I'm wearing a big, baggy t-shirt, for goodness' sake, but—whatever, modesty is their problem, not mine. I sprint downstairs and open my desk drawer—not there, but, maybe, I put it in the other—no—but maybe it's on—shit, shit, shit—
And back up the stairs I sprint, to find that the others have moved into the living room. "It's not there," I blurt, out of breath. "Raditz must have taken it."
Well, those who were pissed about it before are more so now. Sure, harass me about wanting to contact them with the scouter and then be angry when I can't. But, as per usual, my brilliance shines through at just the right moment. "I can build a new one," I say. "I've memorized the circuitry backwards and forwards, got all my sketches. It'll be easy. Then," I grin, "I can contact Raditz and find out where the hell he went!"
"Good," Piccolo says, and Gohan seems relieved—maybe because this actually reassures him, or maybe because Son seems to have calmed down substantially.
"You always come through, Bulma," Son says to me. "Maybe you could build another radar, too, in case we need to use the dragonballs after we fight the Saiyans?" Piccolo shoots him a dirty look, assumedly because as per usual, Son seems to have totally forgotten small details like the fact that Kami seems absolutely positive that he and Piccolo are going to die, and soon.
"I will," I say, shrugging at Piccolo with a little smile so he knows that I know that Son's forgotten. Can't hurt, anyway, right?
I'm also going to start pouring myself into finishing that spaceship, and getting everything just right. Part of me wonders if Raditz phrased whatever his wish was really stupidly, and ended up being transported away (I wouldn't put it past Shenlong) to another planet or something that. And if that's the case, well, maybe I'll need to go get him back. Not that I'm going to tell anyone else any of this, besides maybe Gohan or Piccolo. Before I forget about that, I pace over around the corner to the kitchen and look on the counter, for where my father said he'd leave the ship capsule for me. It's gone, and for a second I figure he must have just taken it back himself to work on in the lab today—because I saw it there yesterday afternoon—but that's before I remember that he's been gone since yesterday evening to some conference. ...Aw, shit. Raditz took the [unfinished—nonoperational—stupid bastard] ship, too.
Guess I'll be starting from scratch. Oh well...at least I have all the plans. It'll only take a few weeks at most to build back what I had.
And yeah, I'm a little pissed at Raditz. Enough that I have to grin a little bit imagining him getting ready to go somewhere, throwing down the capsule (assuming he's even figured out how to use them, but I guess if he took it, he must have), and walking into the ship to find exposed circuitry everywhere, a few coffee cups, and tools, and...
God. Fucking. Dammit.
And all my plans.
Guess I really will be starting from scratch.
Before any of the others can pester me with their personal problems with each other (or, more likely, with Raditz, and their assumption that all of this is my fault), I heave a sigh and head down to the lab to refresh myself on how the pod works. Redoing everything won't be so bad—I did it once and I can do it again—but—talk about sucking away all my free time. I want to get this thing done fast, because, to be honest, I know that if it comes to looking like the Saiyans are going to blow up the planet—I'm getting out of here. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that," I mutter, shutting the door to the lab behind me and turning down the hallway to where I've been keeping the pod, only to smack into somebody who was stupidly standing right in my way.
"You're building a ship, right?" It's Piccolo.
"Rebuilding, more like," I mutter, too upset to be surprised at the moment. "Raditz took the unfinished one, and I had all my schematics in there because I'd just been working on it."
"Kami has told me," he says, "that he has something that may be of interest to show you." His eyes bore into mine in that particularly intense, Piccolo way. "It is wise to have an escape plan," he comments, like he's been listening to my thoughts. "I will take you to Kami, but you must swear to me you will do me one service."
Yikes. I don't want to know what someone like Piccolo asks of someone like me. Still, he's got that same heavy look about him. Yeesh, I don't know how Namekian aging works, but if he stays this worried he'll look just like Kami before the Saiyans even arrive. "Sure," I mouth.
"If the Saiyans begin to overpower Son Goku and his friends, and myself, you will take Gohan with you when you leave." Damn. He is serious about this.
"I don't plan on being anywhere near the battle," I tell him. "I don't know how I'd do such a thing."
"I will tell Son and the others to have one of them bring Gohan to you, if such a situation should arise," he says. "I am fearful...Gohan will...make unwise judgments should anyone close to him perish."
He's talking about himself, when he says "anyone close to him," and we both know it. I don't know how those two became such good friends, but, I'm in awe of it. That Gohan could do something like that to make Piccolo...care... It also explains how Raditz became less of a jerk the more time he spent with Gohan. Well, I thought he was less of a jerk. Tch. Asshole.
"Okay," I say. "Of course." I don't need to be told twice—hell, if I'm going into space, I wouldn't complain about bringing somebody ridiculously strong along with me. In any case, I heard about how he exploded at Raditz when he was about to kill Son—the first time, I mean. I guess nothing quite that bad happened the second time—just because things were a little different—and I guess I'm glad of it or I'd probably have had to rebuild the whole lab, from the sound of it. So I guess I can see where Piccolo's coming from, as far as goes Gohan not making rational decisions. After all, he's just a kid.
His eyes keep drilling through me and I try to hold strong so that he knows I'm serious about it; finally, Piccolo nods. "Good. Then you will accompany me to where Kami and Mister Popo are waiting for you." Sort of awkwardly, he grabs me around my sides, and I try not to fidget. Of course, the flying, and I'm sure I couldn't talk him into just telling me the way while I fly a plane. Piccolo seems just as uncomfortable with picking me up as I am with his rough green hands and their big claws digging into my sides. He glances around, considering that if he runs me back upstairs and out an actual door, he might risk being seen—at least, I assume that's his rationale for diving through the window (suspiciously already open—I bet it's where Raditz left through) before rocketing us both up into the sky.
Yup, just another morning for Bulma Briefs.
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