Categories > Anime/Manga > Dragon Ball Z
Disclaimers: The poem "An End" wasn't written by me. It was written by Christina Rossetti. The characters of Dragonball Z do not belong to me and I make no money off of this story.
Author's Notes: Whoo-hoo! My first posted DBZ fanfic! Yea! This is kind of an alternate dimension because, according to the English-dubbed version, Piccolo was the first of the Z warriors to die. Also I assume that in Trunks' Miari (Future) World Piccolo and Kami merged before he was killed. The ending especially was inspired by Final Stand, which I think was written by Aileen, and found at Miari Bulma's Lab.
An End
Love, as strong as death, is dead,
Come, let us make his bed
Among the dying flowers:
A green turf at his head;
And a stone at his feet,
Wereon we may sit
In the quiet evening hours.
He was born in spring
And died before harvesting:
On the last warm summer day
He left us; he would not stay
For autumn twilight cold and gray
Sit we by grave, and sing
He is gone away
**
Piccolo covered his ears to the sound of the warrior's death scream as Tien was exploded from the inside out. He felt some color fade from his face as he surveyed the scene before him from his hidden perch. He had never held the three-eyed warrior or his doll-like partner in high esteem, but the quickness of their destruction worried him. These creatures were like nothing they'd ever faced before.
Yamcha was up next and Piccolo grimaced with something close to sympathy. The human boasted a little about him being craftier than Tenshinhan, then was taken out with a single punch. Craftier or not, Yamcha hadn't had as high a power level as the triclops had. His quick death was no surprise. Now only the bald midget was left. The former Demon King could see his terrified expression and knew that Kuririn would be taken apart just as easily as the others, despite his greater strength. Once Kuririn was gone, Piccolo would be the only hope left on earth.
The Namekseijin had sent Gohan away earlier to protect Chichi and the Ox King. Piccolo needed to get Gohan out of the way because he couldn't allow himself to be distracted by the boy once his fight began. Before he had left to the battlefield, Gohan had made him promise to restrain himself from fighting as long as he could and like the fool he was when it came to the boy, Piccolo had agreed. He supposed that there was some logic in falling back; it gave him the chance to study his opponents in battle and find the patterns in their fight style. Still, standing in the background while the humans he'd finally learned to call friends was something that came unnaturally to Piccolo had he had to remind himself of his promise to Gohan more than once to keep from charging in.
Kuririn cried out and Piccolo's attention swerved back to the fight. He watched the monk make a few pitiful swings, then get downed by a gentle backhand from the female that sent him sailing into the mountainside, leaving a splattered body embedded in the rocks; however, a weak groan told Piccolo that Kuririn had somehow managed to survive the blow. As the two androids closed in on Kuririn to finish him off, Piccolo realized that his time had come.
Although he knew that he couldn't beat them, but Piccolo almost knew that he had to give it a try. Maybe he could wound the twin devils enough to let Vegeta finish them off once he got back from his training in outer space.
"Damn you, Vegeta," Piccolo spat.
If Vegeta hadn't been so insistent that he continue his training to Super Saiyajin level in space, he would have been there when the androids had come out. As much as Piccolo hated to admit it, he could have really used the other alien's help right now. Piccolo's eyes narrowed into thoughtful slits when Kuririn was sent to the gates of heaven with a small blast. The Namekseijin grumbled another stream of unmentionable swear words, seeing his course of action too clear now.
"Dammit. Those things are stronger than I thought. Even whole I can't match their power. Well, I guess this is as good a day to die as any. At least it's not raining. I hate the rain." The Namekseijin stood up from his mountain perch, his trademark white cape billowing in the hot breeze. The cyborgs paused a minute from their gloating to consider the Namekseijin as he floated gracefully to the ground, his face fixed in a furious frown. He wasted no fancy speeches on them, gave no demands for surrender. These were brainless, passionless automatons that knew nothing but what they were programmed to know. They wouldn't surrender. And neither would Piccolo.
"Oi, niisan, check out this weirdo. I guess he wants to play, too, ne?" the blond devil sighed with a trace of boredom.
The black haired boy's eyes glittered red for a moment as he processed Piccolo's bio stats. "I bet he's even weaker than the triclops, though he's just as ugly," the blonde's twin said, smiling sweetly. Piccolo stood tall, not letting their taunting get to him, and prepared himself for the battle ahead.
"Shut the hell up and fight, bitch," Piccolo ordered brusquely, tossing his weighted turban and mantel to the side. The dark haired man laughed, a gentle silvery thing that hid the dark evil in his metal heart, and his light haired twin joined in, her voice melting perfectly with his.
"Well, if our friend here wants a fight---"
"---Let's not disappoint him."
"Bastards," Piccolo hissed, somehow managing to keep a straight face even as he felt his own heart trying to escape from his chest. He saw an enormous amount of ki gathering between the androids' almost touching palms and nearly balked. That one shot would have incinerated him on the spot with enough energy to take out the land in a two hundred-meter area, but he steeled himself once more, not giving the androids the satisfaction of seeing him panic. The twin humanoids let go of the blast straight at him. On instinct alone Piccolo disappeared just in time to avoid the shot. He popped up beside them and sent a hand blast straight at the blonde's head. She ducked it effortlessly, but her darker twin wasn't as lucky and got pelted. Piccolo was transfixed with fear as the dark demon slowly turned to him, no visible damage done other than a slightly dusty face; a frown twisted his perfect features.
"He's mine," he growled dangerously.
"Whatever." The blond tossed her hair to the side and stepped back, apparently not too interested in soiling her hands with Piccolo's blood. The former Demon King composed himself as the black haired cyborg strolled up to him, smiling as affably as ever. He stared death in the eyes and did his best not to blink.
**
Gohan stood at the window, nervously staring into space and chewing his bottom lip as he kept track of the battling powers. He prayed for his mentor's safety and wondered if Piccolo could hear his prayers now that Kami was a part of him again. The thought made him smile softly. In the background, his mother and grandfather kept silent, feeling sympathy for the boy because they knew how much staying behind broke his heart; he longed to be out in the battlefield defending the Earth with his friends.
Chichi looked up from her laundry and felt a deep pang in her heart as she looked at her son. Gohan looked so much like Gokou staring out that window, concerned expression on his face, and she finally understood what her husband had been trying to tell her all these years. Fighting was in Gohan's blood; even now he wanted to go and face the monsters who threatened their planet and loved ones, despite the fact that his death was practically guaranteed. He couldn't help it because the instinct to fight was imbedded in his blood, a part of him that no amount of studying could ever erase. The best thing for him would be to let him go be with his friends and have his chance to save their world. But Chichi was too selfish for that. She was finally able to admit it to herself. When she'd lost Gokou, she'd felt her soul shatter and the only pieces left were being held together by nothing by her son. If she lost him, too...
"Piccolo-san," Gohan whispered so quietly that his mother almost didn't catch the word. "Please don't die."
**
Piccolo had just become Juunana-gou's favorite play toy yet. The cyborg was fascinated by the Namekseijin's regenerating abilities and torn the warrior limb by limb just for the sick pleasure of watching Piccolo grow them. Piccolo played along with Juunana's little game, stalling for time while Vegeta returned to Earth. When Piccolo regrew his arm for the forth time, the cyborg returned to blows of the fist, knowing the Demon King could never dodge any of his moves and laughing as Piccolo, nevertheless, tried to. One of Piccolo's eyes was swollen shut and purple blood trickled out of the corner of his mouth and over his eyes. Juunana-gou danced back after his attack to look his opponent over.
"Come on, Green Man. Surely you can do better than this. I haven't even broken a sweat," the dark haired demon teased.
Piccolo scowled and sneered, "Well, bully for you, onore." He spat a mouthful of blood to the side and took his offense stance again. Juunana glared at him, his smiling disappearing.
"You're beginning to annoy me," he said plainly.
"Then let's turn up the heat." Piccolo threw a large ki blast that would have annihilated a large planet's armored division, but was shocked to see the Juunana-gou bat it away as if it were just a fly buzzing around his ear. The android came charging in again, crushing Piccolo with his first blow and smashing him into a mountain with the next. The whole height came crashing down on the Namekseijin.
"Stop messing around, Juunana. Just finish the green bean off and let's go," Juuhachi-gou called from the sidelines, a yawn in her voice. Juunana grinned at his twin.
"All right, sis. I'll be done in a minute."
**
Beneath the rubble, Piccolo could feel his strength waning. Dammit. I haven't even made a mark on this guy. How the hell--- Suddenly the rocks that had buried him flew away. Piccolo choked on the dust and his eyes began to water, but he could still make out the figure standing above him. Two crystal blue orbs glared down at him. They were devoid of all feeling, of all life; they were the eyes of a dead thing. Which is exactly what I'm going to be in about two seconds, Piccolo thought grimly. Juunana picked Piccolo up by his shirt's torn collar and smiled pleasantly at him, like they were old friends meeting on the street instead of enemies on the battlefield.
"Say sayonara, Kami-sama. Without you, all hope dies right along side the dragonballs." The android fastidiously dusted Piccolo's scruffy shoulders. "And the world will be ours to do with as we please."
"No," Piccolo growled in denial. Kuso! How does this bastard know about the dragonballs? Yamcha must have told him something while gloating. Damn him! If he weren't already dead, I'd--- Piccolo froze in mid-thought when he felt it. A power--- the only power ---that might have been able to take on the cyborgs. Vegeta had returned to Earth. How ironic that the person who'd once been the greatest threat to Chikyu was now her last defense. An involuntary smile curled the corners of Piccolo's mouth and his chest shook as something within him rumbled, them exploded from his lips. He laughed right in Juunana's face, surprising the cyborg.
"What's so funny?" he demanded.
Piccolo gave him his most arrogant smirk. "You haven't won just yet, robo-boy. Just you wait and see."
"Wait for what?" Juunana raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "Do you have another interesting trick up your sleeve? Like those stretching arms of yours?"
Piccolo feebly shook his head at the android like a teacher scolding his inattentive student. "Every heard of the Saiyajins?"
Juunana-gou paused for a moment, running through his memory tracks. "No."
Piccolo laughed again, weak and hoarse and just a tad hysterical. "Well, there's one coming right this way and he's gonna send you overgrown toaster ovens back to the scrap heap you crawled out of."
"Another power?" Juunana lifted his head to scan the area, then turned back to Piccolo, smiling pleasantly. "Too bad you aren't going to be around for the right, Green Man. It will be an interesting one..." The smile began to slowly shift into an evil smirk. "For the few seconds we can hold back from destroying him," Juunana purred graciously and ripped Piccolo's arm off with casual ease.
Piccolo screaming, spitting up more blood, but when his small amount of sanity left returned to him, he clench his teeth together to keep from amusing the soulless killer with his agony. The android dropped the alien and rose into the air. Before he had the chance to regenerate the limb, Juunana dropped, landing cruelly on the Namekseijin's legs and shattering them. Piccolo screamed again, a high shrieking that ended in pitiful whimpering and self-loathing for showing such weakness. So much for not giving Juunana-gou his entertainment. At least no one was around to see him like this. A few second trickled by and Piccolo entertained the fleeting thought that maybe Juunana had tired of his game and had decided to leave. But suddenly Juunana appeared in front of him, semi-artifical hands clamping onto his wrist like a wise. He lifted the Namekseijin and started swinging him around and around in a circle, releasing him into a mountainside and ripping off the hand at the wrist. Juunana tossed the hand to the side and cleared the rubble on top of Piccolo.
"O-Onore," Piccolo snarled defiantly, vomiting his own blood on Juunana-gou's sneakers. The cyborg made a face of disgust, then anger twisted his perfect features.
"Hey, these are my favorite shoes!"
Piccolo gave the cybortronic boy a lopsided smirk. Juunana's anger unexpectedly melted away and he stood with his best friendly smile in place as he regarded the mortally wounded warrior. That smile never changed as he slowly raised his hand and gathered the killing energy. There was no hope of dodging. Piccolo's legs were broken--- not torn off ---so he couldn't regenerate them even if he had enough time. Besides, he was missing his left arm and his right hand. There wasn't enough time left to heal all the damage.
"It's been fun, Green Man."
Piccolo could feel the heat of the energy blast searing his flesh and bone, devouring him wholly. One word popped in his head as he felt himself fading into the darkness: Gohan...
The explosion was blinding.
**
Chichi didn't have the heart to move him when Gohan, completely exhausted, had fallen asleep at the windowsill. The boy had been so determined to keep an eye on Piccolo during his fight. Gohan... Suddenly Gohan snapped awake, catching the explosion in the west; he was positive that his heart stopped beating for a full minute as the significance of that explosion took time to sink in.
"Piccolo-san!" he screamed. Without thinking, he zoomed out of the house and headed straight for the fading light, not conscious of the cries of his mother and grandfather begging him to come back. His family was safe at the moment in their secluded mountain home. Right now his mentor needed him more.
Gohan flew up top speed, breaking several sound barriers, and almost passed Piccolo's last stand. He hung in mid-air just gaping at the destruction. The mountain range was gone now, decimated by ki gathering as well as flying bodies.
"C'mon Piccolo-san," Gohan whispered to himself frantically as he scanned the battlefield. "Where are you? Where?" Amongst the ruins, Gohan caught a flash of green. Not wasting a second, he dived down to see what it was. "P-P-Piccolo-san? Piccolo---" Gohan identified the five green fingers sticking out of the rocks and grasped them, straining to free his mentor. He watched in utter horror as he discovered the hand Juunana had dismembered. Pulling back in revulsion, he fought to keep his lunch down and screamed in disgust and frustration, falling to his knees and fighting back tears.
"Gohan," he heard a rasping voice just below a whisper whimper.
"P-Piccolo-san?" Gohan gasped. He concentrated on his beloved mentor and was pleasantly surprised to feel a dim pulsing of ki. Focusing on the ki signature, Gohan traced it to a pile of rocks and began to dig diligently to uproot Piccolo. The boy was rewarded with the bruised and battered face of the Namekseijin. "Piccolo?" the half-Saiyajin whispered, his hand shaking as he reached out to touch Piccolo's face as gently as he could.
"Go...han..." the Namekseijin rasped in hushed tones, obvious relief showing in his blood stained features.
"PICCOLO-SAN!" Gohan blew away the rest of the rubble with his fury and pulled his idol out of the wreckage with great tenderness.
"Shh, Piccolo-san. Save your strength. Everything's gonna be okay. Just you wait and see. I'm gonna get you to Karin's Tower and get you all better. He should have a whole crop of senzu beans left. They should be ripe by now. Just hold on, Piccolo-san. Please hold on," the boy whimpered piteously, tears rolling down his face. The Namekseijin managed a weak smile for him.
"Don't...give me...that...shit, kid," he hissed, purple blood pouring from his mouth. "I'm...done."
Despite wanting to believe his teacher would survive, Gohan recognized the awful truth in Piccolo's words. He gazed upon his dying mentor with eyes brimmed full with tears. "No, Piccolo-san. Please."
"Sorry...about this, kid. Damned robots...were just...too strong for me." He coughed up more fluids, practically sending Gohan into a panic attack. "Even...with myself... whole...I couldn't beat them. It's...all up to...you now. Protect...our home."
"Hai, Piccolo-san. You can count on me," Gohan whispered, almost too afraid to speak. "Those androids aren't going to get this planet without a fight. Not while I'm around. I swear it."
"Thank you...Gohan..." Piccolo whispered almost too softly to be heard. With a soft smile that only his pupil had ever gotten the chance to see and a slight nod, Piccolo's eyes closed and his head flopped to the side.
The half-Saiyajin's body shook with anger and grief and he threw his head back, screaming in denial.
"PICCOLO-SAN!!!! NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!"
Power, hot and raging, spilled into him. His chest heaved; he suddenly couldn't breathe as he was swallowed whole by that radiating power. His aura grew large and golden, causing the remaining landscape to crumble and explode. His dark black locks flared up and turned gold and his tear spewing eyes shone coldly cobalt. He'd finally hit Super Saiyajin.
**
Gohan stood before the graves he had helped Bulma dig. He had come to her with the bodies of the Z Senshi who had been killed and just after dawn he had returned with the body of Earth's last fighter, Vegeta. The androids still lived and Gohan was the last of the Earth's defenders. For Bulma's sake, Gohan had kept himself together throughout the entire burial, not shedding a single tear, not even as they place Piccolo in his final resting place beside the headstone marked "Son Gokou." After the funeral, Bulma had run into her house looking as calm and collected as ever. Gohan might have actually believed her act, but then the laughter had begun. Gohan listened to Bulma's hysterical laughter as she grieved, but remained outside without her knowing. In the dark amongst the dead and buried, Gohan finally himself to release his pent up emotions.
He wept for his friends who had so valiantly sacrificed their lives that day. He wept for his beloved mentor who had come so far from his days of evil only to be alone when it counted the most. He wept for his father who was too long dead to help save the planet and the people he had loved so furiously in life. He wept for the infant Trunks who would never know his father or a peaceful, normal life. Most of all, he wept for himself. His future was lost to him now. He'd bee robbed of a childhood when the Saiyajin had first threatened Chikyu and now he would be forced to spend the rest of his days in war, fighting day after day just to survive. He was the planet's last hope, yet he knew he could never stop the cyborgs' rampage. All he could do was protect the people dear to him left and pray to God that it would all somehow end some day.
________________________________________________________________________
Japanese Used (I know there are different definitions for some of these words, but these are the translations I used):
Onore- bastard
Kuso - damn
Chikyu - Earth
Kami - God
Niisan - brother
Juunana-gou - Number Seventeen
Juuhachi-gou - Number Eighteen
Hai - yes
Senshi - warriors
Author's Notes: Whoo-hoo! My first posted DBZ fanfic! Yea! This is kind of an alternate dimension because, according to the English-dubbed version, Piccolo was the first of the Z warriors to die. Also I assume that in Trunks' Miari (Future) World Piccolo and Kami merged before he was killed. The ending especially was inspired by Final Stand, which I think was written by Aileen, and found at Miari Bulma's Lab.
An End
Love, as strong as death, is dead,
Come, let us make his bed
Among the dying flowers:
A green turf at his head;
And a stone at his feet,
Wereon we may sit
In the quiet evening hours.
He was born in spring
And died before harvesting:
On the last warm summer day
He left us; he would not stay
For autumn twilight cold and gray
Sit we by grave, and sing
He is gone away
**
Piccolo covered his ears to the sound of the warrior's death scream as Tien was exploded from the inside out. He felt some color fade from his face as he surveyed the scene before him from his hidden perch. He had never held the three-eyed warrior or his doll-like partner in high esteem, but the quickness of their destruction worried him. These creatures were like nothing they'd ever faced before.
Yamcha was up next and Piccolo grimaced with something close to sympathy. The human boasted a little about him being craftier than Tenshinhan, then was taken out with a single punch. Craftier or not, Yamcha hadn't had as high a power level as the triclops had. His quick death was no surprise. Now only the bald midget was left. The former Demon King could see his terrified expression and knew that Kuririn would be taken apart just as easily as the others, despite his greater strength. Once Kuririn was gone, Piccolo would be the only hope left on earth.
The Namekseijin had sent Gohan away earlier to protect Chichi and the Ox King. Piccolo needed to get Gohan out of the way because he couldn't allow himself to be distracted by the boy once his fight began. Before he had left to the battlefield, Gohan had made him promise to restrain himself from fighting as long as he could and like the fool he was when it came to the boy, Piccolo had agreed. He supposed that there was some logic in falling back; it gave him the chance to study his opponents in battle and find the patterns in their fight style. Still, standing in the background while the humans he'd finally learned to call friends was something that came unnaturally to Piccolo had he had to remind himself of his promise to Gohan more than once to keep from charging in.
Kuririn cried out and Piccolo's attention swerved back to the fight. He watched the monk make a few pitiful swings, then get downed by a gentle backhand from the female that sent him sailing into the mountainside, leaving a splattered body embedded in the rocks; however, a weak groan told Piccolo that Kuririn had somehow managed to survive the blow. As the two androids closed in on Kuririn to finish him off, Piccolo realized that his time had come.
Although he knew that he couldn't beat them, but Piccolo almost knew that he had to give it a try. Maybe he could wound the twin devils enough to let Vegeta finish them off once he got back from his training in outer space.
"Damn you, Vegeta," Piccolo spat.
If Vegeta hadn't been so insistent that he continue his training to Super Saiyajin level in space, he would have been there when the androids had come out. As much as Piccolo hated to admit it, he could have really used the other alien's help right now. Piccolo's eyes narrowed into thoughtful slits when Kuririn was sent to the gates of heaven with a small blast. The Namekseijin grumbled another stream of unmentionable swear words, seeing his course of action too clear now.
"Dammit. Those things are stronger than I thought. Even whole I can't match their power. Well, I guess this is as good a day to die as any. At least it's not raining. I hate the rain." The Namekseijin stood up from his mountain perch, his trademark white cape billowing in the hot breeze. The cyborgs paused a minute from their gloating to consider the Namekseijin as he floated gracefully to the ground, his face fixed in a furious frown. He wasted no fancy speeches on them, gave no demands for surrender. These were brainless, passionless automatons that knew nothing but what they were programmed to know. They wouldn't surrender. And neither would Piccolo.
"Oi, niisan, check out this weirdo. I guess he wants to play, too, ne?" the blond devil sighed with a trace of boredom.
The black haired boy's eyes glittered red for a moment as he processed Piccolo's bio stats. "I bet he's even weaker than the triclops, though he's just as ugly," the blonde's twin said, smiling sweetly. Piccolo stood tall, not letting their taunting get to him, and prepared himself for the battle ahead.
"Shut the hell up and fight, bitch," Piccolo ordered brusquely, tossing his weighted turban and mantel to the side. The dark haired man laughed, a gentle silvery thing that hid the dark evil in his metal heart, and his light haired twin joined in, her voice melting perfectly with his.
"Well, if our friend here wants a fight---"
"---Let's not disappoint him."
"Bastards," Piccolo hissed, somehow managing to keep a straight face even as he felt his own heart trying to escape from his chest. He saw an enormous amount of ki gathering between the androids' almost touching palms and nearly balked. That one shot would have incinerated him on the spot with enough energy to take out the land in a two hundred-meter area, but he steeled himself once more, not giving the androids the satisfaction of seeing him panic. The twin humanoids let go of the blast straight at him. On instinct alone Piccolo disappeared just in time to avoid the shot. He popped up beside them and sent a hand blast straight at the blonde's head. She ducked it effortlessly, but her darker twin wasn't as lucky and got pelted. Piccolo was transfixed with fear as the dark demon slowly turned to him, no visible damage done other than a slightly dusty face; a frown twisted his perfect features.
"He's mine," he growled dangerously.
"Whatever." The blond tossed her hair to the side and stepped back, apparently not too interested in soiling her hands with Piccolo's blood. The former Demon King composed himself as the black haired cyborg strolled up to him, smiling as affably as ever. He stared death in the eyes and did his best not to blink.
**
Gohan stood at the window, nervously staring into space and chewing his bottom lip as he kept track of the battling powers. He prayed for his mentor's safety and wondered if Piccolo could hear his prayers now that Kami was a part of him again. The thought made him smile softly. In the background, his mother and grandfather kept silent, feeling sympathy for the boy because they knew how much staying behind broke his heart; he longed to be out in the battlefield defending the Earth with his friends.
Chichi looked up from her laundry and felt a deep pang in her heart as she looked at her son. Gohan looked so much like Gokou staring out that window, concerned expression on his face, and she finally understood what her husband had been trying to tell her all these years. Fighting was in Gohan's blood; even now he wanted to go and face the monsters who threatened their planet and loved ones, despite the fact that his death was practically guaranteed. He couldn't help it because the instinct to fight was imbedded in his blood, a part of him that no amount of studying could ever erase. The best thing for him would be to let him go be with his friends and have his chance to save their world. But Chichi was too selfish for that. She was finally able to admit it to herself. When she'd lost Gokou, she'd felt her soul shatter and the only pieces left were being held together by nothing by her son. If she lost him, too...
"Piccolo-san," Gohan whispered so quietly that his mother almost didn't catch the word. "Please don't die."
**
Piccolo had just become Juunana-gou's favorite play toy yet. The cyborg was fascinated by the Namekseijin's regenerating abilities and torn the warrior limb by limb just for the sick pleasure of watching Piccolo grow them. Piccolo played along with Juunana's little game, stalling for time while Vegeta returned to Earth. When Piccolo regrew his arm for the forth time, the cyborg returned to blows of the fist, knowing the Demon King could never dodge any of his moves and laughing as Piccolo, nevertheless, tried to. One of Piccolo's eyes was swollen shut and purple blood trickled out of the corner of his mouth and over his eyes. Juunana-gou danced back after his attack to look his opponent over.
"Come on, Green Man. Surely you can do better than this. I haven't even broken a sweat," the dark haired demon teased.
Piccolo scowled and sneered, "Well, bully for you, onore." He spat a mouthful of blood to the side and took his offense stance again. Juunana glared at him, his smiling disappearing.
"You're beginning to annoy me," he said plainly.
"Then let's turn up the heat." Piccolo threw a large ki blast that would have annihilated a large planet's armored division, but was shocked to see the Juunana-gou bat it away as if it were just a fly buzzing around his ear. The android came charging in again, crushing Piccolo with his first blow and smashing him into a mountain with the next. The whole height came crashing down on the Namekseijin.
"Stop messing around, Juunana. Just finish the green bean off and let's go," Juuhachi-gou called from the sidelines, a yawn in her voice. Juunana grinned at his twin.
"All right, sis. I'll be done in a minute."
**
Beneath the rubble, Piccolo could feel his strength waning. Dammit. I haven't even made a mark on this guy. How the hell--- Suddenly the rocks that had buried him flew away. Piccolo choked on the dust and his eyes began to water, but he could still make out the figure standing above him. Two crystal blue orbs glared down at him. They were devoid of all feeling, of all life; they were the eyes of a dead thing. Which is exactly what I'm going to be in about two seconds, Piccolo thought grimly. Juunana picked Piccolo up by his shirt's torn collar and smiled pleasantly at him, like they were old friends meeting on the street instead of enemies on the battlefield.
"Say sayonara, Kami-sama. Without you, all hope dies right along side the dragonballs." The android fastidiously dusted Piccolo's scruffy shoulders. "And the world will be ours to do with as we please."
"No," Piccolo growled in denial. Kuso! How does this bastard know about the dragonballs? Yamcha must have told him something while gloating. Damn him! If he weren't already dead, I'd--- Piccolo froze in mid-thought when he felt it. A power--- the only power ---that might have been able to take on the cyborgs. Vegeta had returned to Earth. How ironic that the person who'd once been the greatest threat to Chikyu was now her last defense. An involuntary smile curled the corners of Piccolo's mouth and his chest shook as something within him rumbled, them exploded from his lips. He laughed right in Juunana's face, surprising the cyborg.
"What's so funny?" he demanded.
Piccolo gave him his most arrogant smirk. "You haven't won just yet, robo-boy. Just you wait and see."
"Wait for what?" Juunana raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "Do you have another interesting trick up your sleeve? Like those stretching arms of yours?"
Piccolo feebly shook his head at the android like a teacher scolding his inattentive student. "Every heard of the Saiyajins?"
Juunana-gou paused for a moment, running through his memory tracks. "No."
Piccolo laughed again, weak and hoarse and just a tad hysterical. "Well, there's one coming right this way and he's gonna send you overgrown toaster ovens back to the scrap heap you crawled out of."
"Another power?" Juunana lifted his head to scan the area, then turned back to Piccolo, smiling pleasantly. "Too bad you aren't going to be around for the right, Green Man. It will be an interesting one..." The smile began to slowly shift into an evil smirk. "For the few seconds we can hold back from destroying him," Juunana purred graciously and ripped Piccolo's arm off with casual ease.
Piccolo screaming, spitting up more blood, but when his small amount of sanity left returned to him, he clench his teeth together to keep from amusing the soulless killer with his agony. The android dropped the alien and rose into the air. Before he had the chance to regenerate the limb, Juunana dropped, landing cruelly on the Namekseijin's legs and shattering them. Piccolo screamed again, a high shrieking that ended in pitiful whimpering and self-loathing for showing such weakness. So much for not giving Juunana-gou his entertainment. At least no one was around to see him like this. A few second trickled by and Piccolo entertained the fleeting thought that maybe Juunana had tired of his game and had decided to leave. But suddenly Juunana appeared in front of him, semi-artifical hands clamping onto his wrist like a wise. He lifted the Namekseijin and started swinging him around and around in a circle, releasing him into a mountainside and ripping off the hand at the wrist. Juunana tossed the hand to the side and cleared the rubble on top of Piccolo.
"O-Onore," Piccolo snarled defiantly, vomiting his own blood on Juunana-gou's sneakers. The cyborg made a face of disgust, then anger twisted his perfect features.
"Hey, these are my favorite shoes!"
Piccolo gave the cybortronic boy a lopsided smirk. Juunana's anger unexpectedly melted away and he stood with his best friendly smile in place as he regarded the mortally wounded warrior. That smile never changed as he slowly raised his hand and gathered the killing energy. There was no hope of dodging. Piccolo's legs were broken--- not torn off ---so he couldn't regenerate them even if he had enough time. Besides, he was missing his left arm and his right hand. There wasn't enough time left to heal all the damage.
"It's been fun, Green Man."
Piccolo could feel the heat of the energy blast searing his flesh and bone, devouring him wholly. One word popped in his head as he felt himself fading into the darkness: Gohan...
The explosion was blinding.
**
Chichi didn't have the heart to move him when Gohan, completely exhausted, had fallen asleep at the windowsill. The boy had been so determined to keep an eye on Piccolo during his fight. Gohan... Suddenly Gohan snapped awake, catching the explosion in the west; he was positive that his heart stopped beating for a full minute as the significance of that explosion took time to sink in.
"Piccolo-san!" he screamed. Without thinking, he zoomed out of the house and headed straight for the fading light, not conscious of the cries of his mother and grandfather begging him to come back. His family was safe at the moment in their secluded mountain home. Right now his mentor needed him more.
Gohan flew up top speed, breaking several sound barriers, and almost passed Piccolo's last stand. He hung in mid-air just gaping at the destruction. The mountain range was gone now, decimated by ki gathering as well as flying bodies.
"C'mon Piccolo-san," Gohan whispered to himself frantically as he scanned the battlefield. "Where are you? Where?" Amongst the ruins, Gohan caught a flash of green. Not wasting a second, he dived down to see what it was. "P-P-Piccolo-san? Piccolo---" Gohan identified the five green fingers sticking out of the rocks and grasped them, straining to free his mentor. He watched in utter horror as he discovered the hand Juunana had dismembered. Pulling back in revulsion, he fought to keep his lunch down and screamed in disgust and frustration, falling to his knees and fighting back tears.
"Gohan," he heard a rasping voice just below a whisper whimper.
"P-Piccolo-san?" Gohan gasped. He concentrated on his beloved mentor and was pleasantly surprised to feel a dim pulsing of ki. Focusing on the ki signature, Gohan traced it to a pile of rocks and began to dig diligently to uproot Piccolo. The boy was rewarded with the bruised and battered face of the Namekseijin. "Piccolo?" the half-Saiyajin whispered, his hand shaking as he reached out to touch Piccolo's face as gently as he could.
"Go...han..." the Namekseijin rasped in hushed tones, obvious relief showing in his blood stained features.
"PICCOLO-SAN!" Gohan blew away the rest of the rubble with his fury and pulled his idol out of the wreckage with great tenderness.
"Shh, Piccolo-san. Save your strength. Everything's gonna be okay. Just you wait and see. I'm gonna get you to Karin's Tower and get you all better. He should have a whole crop of senzu beans left. They should be ripe by now. Just hold on, Piccolo-san. Please hold on," the boy whimpered piteously, tears rolling down his face. The Namekseijin managed a weak smile for him.
"Don't...give me...that...shit, kid," he hissed, purple blood pouring from his mouth. "I'm...done."
Despite wanting to believe his teacher would survive, Gohan recognized the awful truth in Piccolo's words. He gazed upon his dying mentor with eyes brimmed full with tears. "No, Piccolo-san. Please."
"Sorry...about this, kid. Damned robots...were just...too strong for me." He coughed up more fluids, practically sending Gohan into a panic attack. "Even...with myself... whole...I couldn't beat them. It's...all up to...you now. Protect...our home."
"Hai, Piccolo-san. You can count on me," Gohan whispered, almost too afraid to speak. "Those androids aren't going to get this planet without a fight. Not while I'm around. I swear it."
"Thank you...Gohan..." Piccolo whispered almost too softly to be heard. With a soft smile that only his pupil had ever gotten the chance to see and a slight nod, Piccolo's eyes closed and his head flopped to the side.
The half-Saiyajin's body shook with anger and grief and he threw his head back, screaming in denial.
"PICCOLO-SAN!!!! NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!"
Power, hot and raging, spilled into him. His chest heaved; he suddenly couldn't breathe as he was swallowed whole by that radiating power. His aura grew large and golden, causing the remaining landscape to crumble and explode. His dark black locks flared up and turned gold and his tear spewing eyes shone coldly cobalt. He'd finally hit Super Saiyajin.
**
Gohan stood before the graves he had helped Bulma dig. He had come to her with the bodies of the Z Senshi who had been killed and just after dawn he had returned with the body of Earth's last fighter, Vegeta. The androids still lived and Gohan was the last of the Earth's defenders. For Bulma's sake, Gohan had kept himself together throughout the entire burial, not shedding a single tear, not even as they place Piccolo in his final resting place beside the headstone marked "Son Gokou." After the funeral, Bulma had run into her house looking as calm and collected as ever. Gohan might have actually believed her act, but then the laughter had begun. Gohan listened to Bulma's hysterical laughter as she grieved, but remained outside without her knowing. In the dark amongst the dead and buried, Gohan finally himself to release his pent up emotions.
He wept for his friends who had so valiantly sacrificed their lives that day. He wept for his beloved mentor who had come so far from his days of evil only to be alone when it counted the most. He wept for his father who was too long dead to help save the planet and the people he had loved so furiously in life. He wept for the infant Trunks who would never know his father or a peaceful, normal life. Most of all, he wept for himself. His future was lost to him now. He'd bee robbed of a childhood when the Saiyajin had first threatened Chikyu and now he would be forced to spend the rest of his days in war, fighting day after day just to survive. He was the planet's last hope, yet he knew he could never stop the cyborgs' rampage. All he could do was protect the people dear to him left and pray to God that it would all somehow end some day.
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Japanese Used (I know there are different definitions for some of these words, but these are the translations I used):
Onore- bastard
Kuso - damn
Chikyu - Earth
Kami - God
Niisan - brother
Juunana-gou - Number Seventeen
Juuhachi-gou - Number Eighteen
Hai - yes
Senshi - warriors
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