Thank you for all your comments! ^^


I think this part is a little shorter than usual, but I hope you still have some fun reading! :)








He was still standing motionless on the edge of the platform ... looking down at the earth, seemingly lost in thought.


I slowed my pace and decided to approach him better now.


"Why doesn't he turn around? Doesn't he feel my presence?" It suddenly shot through my head when I realized that he either didn't notice me or was deliberately trying to ignore me.


Step by step, I tried to close this eerie distance that had built up between us within just a few seconds ... but it almost seemed to me that Piccolo was desperately defending himself against it.


When I finally came to a standstill less than a meter behind him and he still made no move to turn around, let alone look at me or hug me, I felt an oppressive unease slowly rising up inside me.

I didn't know exactly why, but I clearly felt that in this painful moment I didn't belong to Piccolo's side. I felt guilty. Guilty for all that he had to go through and suffer just because of me. Guilty for his fight with Vegeta and not least guilty for his death at the time ...


I suddenly realized that it was only thanks to me that he had to find himself in this miserable situation, which was certainly not easy for him. After all, I was the one who suddenly and completely unexpectedly showed up here and suddenly mixed up all processes and habits.


My eyes filled with tears.


"I'm ... sorry ... forgive me ... Piccolo ..." I whispered furtively and turned away from him, saddened by his cool rejection. I just wanted one more thing. Path. Away from here. Away from Piccolo,

for the thought of having to endure his presence here under these excruciating circumstances drove me insane at the very thought of it.


But the next moment I felt a hand gently grab my shoulder.


Immediately I stopped and stared at the floor uncertain and ashamed for a while ... just didn't dare to turn around ... look into his eyes ... and tell him how much he still meant to me ...


"No ... I am sorry ..." I suddenly heard Piccolo say with such sadness, such a crushing dejection in his voice that my blood froze in my veins and I still under his hand on my shoulder began to tremble.


"It's my fault ... mine all alone ..."


With the completion of his sentence, which was apparently spoken in infinite pain, I slowly turned to him, looked directly into his empty, hopeless eyes and felt how he was on the verge of finally despair.

"Piccolo, but ..." I tried in vain to give in, but was promptly interrupted again when he carefully loosened his briefly stronger grip on my shoulder.


"No. No 'but' ..."


Tormented, he closed his eyes for a few seconds, clenched his hands into clenched fists and bit his teeth with a dangerous grind.


Something had to be bothering him ... something that seemed to be a heavy burden on his shoulders and almost took his breath away.


I could tell that it was working inside him. Yes, it didn't just work ... no ... it boiled ... boiled like a volcano that was about to erupt.


What was it that got him so enraged? What did he want to tell me?


I desperately tried to get an answer to my questions by myself, to finally have certainty. But as hard as I tried ... it was in vain.

And as if the mysteriously shining moon had been able to help us in any way at this moment, I looked up at him pleadingly ... saw the stars, how they all seemed to shine with each other and admired the extraordinary many shooting stars that fell from the sky in great numbers that one night ...


Then I turned my attention back to Piccolo and found, to my delightful surprise, that for the first time since we were out here, he sincerely returned my gaze and was almost looking into my eyes for help. Of course he would never admit that, but I felt it clearly and without the slightest doubt.


I approached him cautiously, taking a courageous step in his direction and carefully placing a hand on his chest. But within a fraction of a second he winced .. winced as if his body had just been subjected to a huge electric shock, from which he had tried to protect himself in a panic.

Fearful and frightened, I abruptly withdrew my hand and could do nothing but give him my most questioning and at the same time most uncomprehending look.


He closed his eyes again, tormented, clenched his hands into fists and let every single muscle of his trembling body be visibly tensed for a second.


Whatever it was that affected him so much, in that eerie moment it inevitably passed on to me too ...


Without saying a word, I slowly moved away from him, still looking up at him in disbelief, but at the same time filled with endless sadness ... searched his gaze ... to no avail.


That was way too much for me. The person to whom I owed my life twice now, with whom I had been able to spend by far the most beautiful hours of my life so far and who represented my only support, my hope in this world, had rejected me ... ice cold rejected ...