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Author's note: This story is a sequel to "There are no Winds that can blow it away" and is based on the events there. It takes part in the three years of training for the fight with the Andriods and includes events (and dialogue) from the episode "Goku's Ordeal". The driving test as used in this story is based on the Japanese driving test.
Constructive criticism is highly appreciated. 'Flames' are welcome, too - as long as you keep the directed at THE STORY. Okay? If you flame me as a person, I'll send Muten Roshi after you! You have been warned. evil grin
English isn't my native language and this story hasn't been betaed yet, so you'll probably stumble into all types of whacko mistakes. Thanks for your patience deciphering it nevertheless. :)
The Demon That Drives The Beat
By Birgit "Lee" Kohls
© July 2002
Spring had come and gone. Cold gusts of wind and rain had traded place with the burning heat of summer, shorter days heralded the coming of autumn. The first leaves turned from lush green into all shades of gold, crimson and brown. But on the day our story begins, the sun rewarded the world with a beautiful October day.
Son ChiChi trotted along the road that lead from the village to her house, glad that the rain of the previous days had stopped. Things had returned to normal in the Son household over the course of the past few months. Well, as normal as things could be when you had the world strongest warrior as a husband, your seven year son rather trained than learned and your constant guest was the over 7 and a half feet tall Demon King Piccolo. She wrapped her arms tighter around her purchases, hoping that she'd make the way back in under one hours.
Sensing movement in the thick undergrowth, she tensed. The wild boar that broke through the green had her fighter instincts kicking in, but even she knew she stood no the slightest chance against the beast. Screaming on top of her lungs, ChiChi ran for her life.
x
Unaware of ChiChi's situation, Son Goku, Gohan and Piccolo were busy with training for the fight with the Androids...
"That cloud looks like Muten Roshi!" Goku had folded his arms behind his head and lay relaxed in the grass of the lake's shore, enjoying the warmth of the sunlight on his skin. They had sparred intensely all afternoon, but the Saiyan knew that enough was enough. Besides, ChiChi probably was cooking dinner already. The thought of food made his stomach growl in anticipation and he tried to imagine what would be on the menu today. Then again, all of ChiChi's cooking was delicious, he couldn't get enough if it. His daydreaming was rudely interrupted when Gohan burst through the surface of the water, gasping for air.
"Dad! Look!"
Goku smiled proudly when his son held up his catch. "Gohan, that's really a big fish. I bet Chi-Chi'll be happy when she sees it!"
x
Over by the waterfall, only a few yards away from the others, Piccolo's meditation was cut short by the sudden spectacle.
The interruption annoyed him. They weren't by far working out as hard as he had hoped. They should not waste training time with countless interruptions. Back when he had prepared Gohan for the fight with the Saiyans, the schedule had been training from daybreak to nightfall.
He sighed when he recalled those months and how deep the changes went he had undergone since then. It was true, Piccolo mused. He knew that he had become even deeper entangled in a net of relationships, responsibilities and emotions since he had begun to train together with Goku and Gohan almost a year ago. And though he had fought it in the beginning, had told himself that he was merely studying the enemy for his weaknesses, he more and more had bound himself to the Sons.
He never had realized just how much he needed Gohan and his family until he had almost lost both for good. But against all odds, despite all the mishaps, wrong choices and angered words the miracle had happened. Now he was in head over heels in the greatest adventure of his life. The Son family would never know what they had done for him. They even had celebrated his birthday, complete with cake and present. Piccolo smiled fondly at the memory.
However, the smile fell when the reason for the training came back to mind. They had less than two years left to prepare for the fight with the Androids. Trunks, the young man from the future, had told about their deaths, how they'd all would be gone soon. The thought had scared Piccolo more than he cared to admit. It wasn't as much his own death that unsettled him, but the knowledge that Gohan would have to fend on his own against the unknown evil.
He wouldn't allow that to happen. He had to survive for the sake of the kid, and that meant that he had to get stronger than Trunks to beat the Androids. But the level of a Super Saiyan, Piccolo had to admit, was still light years away from his present strength. And that was just one more reason why he couldn't tolerate any lazy times.
"We're going home! You're coming, Piccolo?"
Piccolo grimaced, his sensitive ears ringing. It was annoying. Couldn't the man just speak in a normal volume? One should think that by now Son Goku had gotten the hint, but no, the Saiyan had to yell. Idiot. "Sure."
x
ChiChi sat at the kitchen table, the groceries in front of her, and cried. Was this what her life had become? Goku and Gohan were out all day training and she was left with cleaning the house, washing clothes and preparing meals. It just wasn't fair! Other women got treated better by their family. Other women were appreciated, they had husbands who went to work and who went shopping with their wives. Other women didn't have to walk into the village on their aching feet or got chased by wild animals just to buy supplies. At least, in the past Goku used to help. He took care of the heavy things and even flew her to the village. But now? She seethed. All that counted now was training, day in and day out. And where did that leave her?
Plus, Piccolo wasn't any help, he even insisted that they should train longer. And maybe it was just her imagination, but the Namekian had developed a feeding frenzy of sorts. He used to eat only once per month, a moderately sized dinner, while the rest of the time he was happy with drinking water. ChiChi had no objections to that. But lately... Piccolo had like four or five meals in just the last three weeks. And not just small meals, no, the wolfed down the full Saiyan portion. He'd become fat and flabby if he didn't watch it. Or maybe he was sick? That was a possibility. Kami beware if he was coming down with something. The last time had been bad enough, and she had no interest to go through the same problems again. She had to keep an eye on him and his eating habits.
Still, Piccolo's constant pushing to extend training times made her angry. His demands made Gohan neglect his studies, and he just ignored the original agreement she had made with Goku. It just wasn't right. Why had she always be the one to back down? Was what she wanted so unreasonable? Yes, training was important, but Goku and Piccolo acted like if there was no tomorrow after that fight. Couldn't they understand that they ruined Gohan's future? Had the two muscle brains any idea of how life worked outside the narrow confinements of fighting each other?
ChiChi's gloomy thoughts weren't lifted when Gohan returned, carrying a huge fish over his head.
"Mom, we're home! And this," he pointed at the fish. "Is a present for you."
ChiChi automatically translated: 'Mom, will you cook it for dinner?' She forced herself to smile. "Welcome home, Gohan."