Hello everybody.


I hope you don't take it too badly for me that I haven't been heard from me for so long ... :(


I hereby make my holy promise that this will not happen again! *G*






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I ran quickly back to the palace. Infinite tears made their way down my cheek over and over again. Tears of sadness, disappointment and fear.


What did i do wrong? Why did Piccolo behave so strangely and what depressed him so much that he himself refused to let me, the person he supposedly loved above all, near him?


As if in a trance and completely beside me, I opened the door to my room.


Everything I saw reminded me of Piccolo in a very specific way. I suddenly remembered the first time we kissed here ... how he was sitting on the edge of my bed worried when Master Kaio brought us this terrible news ... how we had made love ...

All of this burned itself irrevocably into my soul.


Absentmindedly, I finally closed the door behind my back and slowly slumped to the floor without even noticing it.


It was awful. Just cruel and infinitely unfair.


"If he really wanted to, he would have been here by now ..." I stated in my thoughts about my renewed grief and once again I could not prevent several small tears from running down my face at this fact. Why wasn't he here? Why didn't he come after me? I did not understand the world anymore.


I don't know exactly how long I sat there in front of the door, brooding about my life ... about Piccolo's life and, last but not least, hoping that he would come to talk to me or just hug me to take.


Predictably, I waited in vain.


With a heavy heart I pulled myself up and dragged myself laboriously in the direction of my bed.Powerless I let myself fall into it, rolled myself thoughtfully onto my back and felt an oppressive indifference spreading inside me. Suddenly I didn't care what position I was in ... that I didn't have much time left.


All I wanted was piccolo. Was this really asking too much? Was my wish really unrealizable? I just couldn't and didn't want to believe it, let alone have it true.


Should I go to him again? Ask him directly? Forcing him to look me in the eye and tell me the whole truth?


No ... that would have been the wrong way. I was sure of that. I had gotten to know Piccolo so well in all the time that we had already spent together that I knew exactly when to talk to him and when it was better to postpone this project to another time. Not that he ever got aggressive or extremely angry ...

No, in that respect Piccolo was more in control than anyone I knew.


However, every time he managed, in a way that was extraordinarily strange to me, to give his counterpart the feeling of inappropriateness, of superfluity ...


Yes, he was a true master in this and nobody in the world, it seemed to me, would one day be able to hold a candle to him in this regard. Not even a Saiyan prince swollen with pride ...


Of course, I hadn't resented him for this quality, which he wore or not. I loved and respected him far too much for that.


Piccolo was just a loner as he was in the book. How could he be any different? After all, he didn't know it any other way! Sure, the friendship with Son Goku and especially with his son had changed him and also the fact that he had been living with Dende here in the palace for several years had shaped him, but in no way influenced his attitude towards "normal people" .

Suddenly there was a knock on the door.


"Yes?" I said completely surprised and visibly torn from my thoughts, sat up with a jerk and looked eagerly at the slowly opening door.


It was Piccolo. Carefully and cautiously he entered, closed the door behind his back and stood rooted to the spot in front of it.


"I have to talk to you." he gave me to understand coolly and succinctly, during which he apparently didn't think it necessary to even begin to look me in the eyes.


I was still sitting on my bed with a good deal of perplexity, but also a lot of respect, and waited eagerly for what Piccolo would now say or even do.


Without saying a word, he approached me before he came to a standstill just before my bed.


"Have a seat ..." I suggested shyly as on the first day and was amazed that he followed my request immediately and without hesitation.

Keeping a safe distance, he finally sat down next to me on the bed and I noticed blandly how he suddenly seemed to be able to look at me again.


"How are you?"


At that time I would have expected anything but this question, but Piccolo suddenly and unexpectedly asked me about my well-being, seemed extremely positive to me.


In search of the love, the security, the refuge that I could find over and over again in all the time in his eyes, I looked for his gaze. However, all I could find in it was an almost deadly mixture of sadness, anger and fear.


"I'm ... I'm fine. And you?" I replied to him with more obedience in my voice than I had intended and my eyes superficially brushed the parts of his body where he had recently suffered these terrible injuries.

Piccolo just nodded. An oppressive silence spread inside the room, from which not only he, but also I visibly suffered.


I pondered ... pondered how in God's name I could have broken this frightening and at the same time almost unbearable silence ...


And suddenly I said something that in the next second I would have liked to bite my tongue off ...


"Do you have any idea how Vegeta is doing?"


Piccolo winced noticeably. Within a very short time, more and more small beads of sweat formed on his forehead, some of which also found their way over his temples to his chin.


"Dende informed Goku ... he took care of everything else." Piccolo answered me in a very monotonous tone, while he turned his gaze towards the floor and slowly lowered his head.

So Vegeta was alive. Not really knowing whether I should be happy or deeply sad about it, I too let my eyes sink ashamedly to the floor.


Of course I immediately and inevitably became aware that this was the absolutely wrong time of all to bring up the subject of "Vegeta" and in the next moment I tried to apologize to Piccolo for my rash behavior.


"I'm sorry, I should have known that ..." I started, but was interrupted by the person opposite.


"No. You don't know anything ... Nothing at all ..."


Piccolo gritted his teeth angrily and gave a small, low growl, probably unintentionally.


"Piccolo ... what ... what's the matter with you?" I asked worried, while I moved a little closer to him without his noticing it.


One more time he rubbed his teeth together, clenched his hands into dangerous-looking fists and closed his eyes in despair.