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“Hn.”
“But it's really a good offer!” Goku insisted.
“So?” Piccolo stressed, shooting him an annoyed look. “We don't need a car yet, so why buy one now?”
“ChiChi said you can save a lot of money if you start looking early.”
“Your wife said...” the green skinned fighter stared at Son Goku in disbelief.
“Yes,” Goku nodded eagerly. “What do you think, is it better to buy a convertible or a sedan?”
“Son,” the Namekian growled and angrily pushed the paper away. “I don't really care what car I'm buying and how much it costs as long as it helps me to pass that stupid driving test so I can go back to training!”
“Aw, you're no fun,” Goku watched how Piccolo focussed again on learning for the first of the two written tests. “And I thought I could make a friend happy.”
A low growl was the only answer, warning enough for Goku not to try his luck. Not that Piccolo posed a serious threat to him, but ChiChi's kitchen equipment was not very tolerant to damage. “Okay, okay, I know. You are no one's friend and have no use for friends of any type.”
“Exactly,” Piccolo hissed, glaring daggers. “Friends are nothing but a hindrance on my way to world domination.”
“But we are friends.”
“Nonsense. You know that I'm going to kill you one day.” When Goku didn't reply, the Namekian's head shot up. “I mean it, Son. We are allies in fighting the androids, we train together and I'm forced to wear your blasted name on my ID card. But that doesn't make us friends.”
“If you say so.” The Saiyan studied his former arch enemy closely. “But what would you win by killing me?”
“For a start, no more stupid driving licenses. And after making that bastard Vejita pay for what he did on Namek, no one will keep me from taking what's mine.” Biting sarcasm laced Piccolo's voice, but there was something else in it that Goku couldn't pinpoint.
“You'd really throw it all away just to rule the planet?”
Seconds stretched to minutes as Piccolo pondered the question, then he snarled. “Don't tempt me, Son.”
x
Idiot. The sentimental fool seriously thought they were friends. Well, maybe they had become uneasy acquaintances over the years, and more than once Piccolo had reveled in the knowledge that there was someone who would watch his back should trouble arise. No, he didn't want to throw everything away he had gained in the past few years, not after all the blood, pain and desperate tears it had cost to achieve it. But maybe Goku and Gohan had just unleashed the creature that had lurked in the shadow of his father's legacy all along. No pretending and no pushing away could change the facts of his failure.
Embarrassingly easy, the pure evil inside him had been overcome by the gentleness and stubborn persistence of the Son family and meanwhile he found he liked protecting as much as blowing up things. Of course he could just have told that to his stupidly loyal friend Son Goku, but he had a reputation to maintain. It was laughable, Piccolo Daimaou, Lord of the demons and scourge of all living creatures, also known as Son Piccolo, was on the verge of just tossing his reputation overboard and become a good citizen. World domination and destruction were no longer on the top of his list. Thinking of it, had they ever been on his own agenda or were they just the part of his being that was made up from his sire's memories?
The confusing turmoil of emotions that had been nagging inside him ever since he had started training Son Gohan had taken its toll. What good was it to be considered the most evil creature of planet Earth by mankind when your heart was helplessly caught in the tiny hand of a child? How could he extinguish the spark of warmth inside his cold demon heart when every day the fire of trust and care claimed more of him? It was a war he had lost a long time ago and he was paying the price for his silly arrogance now. Throwing all the good things in his life away for a useless victory over Son Goku and the prospect of ruling and eventually destroying the Earth? No, he wanted to keep what little dignity and self respect he had left. Besides, dying wasn't an experience he wanted to repeat any time soon. At least he would be fighting on the winning side this time, and what better way was there to maintain one's reputation than beating the enemy into a bloody pulp? “Son, you know I'm not the nice person your boy wants me to be. My nature is to lie, kill and destroy. Don't be an idiot and fall for the peaceful facade.”
Son Goku gave him a long, thoughtful look. Then he said: “If the cure from the future won't work, promise me to look after Gohan and Chichi.”
“W-what?” Piccolo almost fell from his chair. The cure. But that would mean... No! Kami, not now. Cold fear spread through every fiber, sending off logic thought scurrying to the rescue. Mentally recapitulating the past few days, he began to search for anything that might hint at the deadly virus infection. “You are sick, aren't you?"Son Goku just smiled and Piccolo's throat tightened. “Son...”
“I'm fine. Just promise me to protect them if I can't. Don't let my son fight alone.”
The unusual seriousness of Goku's words didn't do anything to dispel Piccolo's uneasiness. Torn between the knowledge that the future couldn't be changed and the need to protect the tiny fragment of happiness he had found, he was seized and overwhelmed by his own emotions. “What you're trying to do, Son? Surrender to some stupid disease before it has even begun?”
x
“No. I just want your promise that you take care of my family if I die.” Goku noticed the subtle signs of distress in the Namekian's face and frowned. He didn't enjoy to shake up his friend's nerve costume or scare the living daylights out of Piccolo, but the 'what ifs' of Mirai Trunk's revelations had been eating on Goku too much to ignore them any longer. Even though he hoped that the medicine would cure the heart disease that lurked somewhere in his body, his usual optimism didn't work. If the future really was as dark as the young man had explained, everything would depend on Piccolo's survival. “If the androids attack, hide yourself and my family. Gohan trusts you and you can complete his training. Protect them for me... brother.”
x
“Shut up!” Piccolo snarled. The entire conversation had taken a turn he didn't like. How had they come from buying a car to this brother-madness? “Your family is none of my business.”
“Just do it, okay?”
Piccolo was ready to strangle the obnoxious Saiyan just for good measure. “Son... what about 'shut up' you didn't understand?”
“Does that mean yes?” Goku had the answer he wanted and grinning ducked the driver's manual Piccolo tossed at him.
“One more word about it and I'll set the house on fire,” the Namekian threatened. “The medicine will work and you can baby-sit your family on your own. Got it?”
He practically yelled the last sentence, but it didn't impress the dark haired Saiyan in the least. With a mischief smile, the smaller man picked up the trashed book from the floor and pretended to study it. “Well, now that you stopped learning, we can as well go to the car sale and see if we can find us a car.”
How was it that, no matter how asinine the ideas, Son Goku always seemed to be successful while all of Piccolo's carefully laid out plans where thwarted and dismissed? Realizing that he had once again been nicely wrapped up to be towed away, Piccolo gave up. “Find me a car. Unlike other people, I can drive.”