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Chapter Text

There is something to be said about distraction from tragedy, even if it is met with some other kind of traumatic event. When her husband died for the first time at the hands of a brother she did not know he had, she could not find it in herself to be sad. Chi-chi told herself that it was because of the presence of Dragon Balls. Of course, the loss of her husband hurt, as it would hurt anyone with love in their heart for the person they married, but there were more pressing things. After all, her four-year-old son had been kidnapped and her Goku would never leave her as a widow.

Except he had. 

She wore a black tulle hat with a dark veil that only covered her eyes in a transparent grey.  Along with a nice black maxi dress in the style she liked. She knew that after today she would not like this dress anymore. As the widow, she had a lot of responsibilities for today. When she had gotten the news that Goku wanted to stay dead this time, she wanted to do something to memorialize him.

Chi-chi had gotten a gravestone made. It read simply ‘Son Goku’ and the dates. Perhaps, if someday her Goku did come back, it would be best to not have a gravestone that drew attention and wouldn’t be missed if they had it removed. The casket was a sleek dark wood that was very practical and something he would have surely hated. Still, she would not be using any of those metal and glass things that cost a pretty penny.

It wasn’t as though Goku left her much to bury. Instead, she laid out a set of his clothes inside and kept the service small. She prepared no food and involved no churches: she just wanted a chance for everyone to say a formal goodbye to her husband. It was the only thing she wanted to do now, to cling to the semblance of normalcy that she’d always craved.

However, the presence of the rain made him still seem anything but normal. Like the whole Earth was mourning the loss of its hero. Maybe it was. Still, she stood as strong as she could, humbled by the presence of the Z Senshi. She kept Gohan to her side most of the day. Holding the large black umbrella to shield them both from the pouring rain in one hand, Chi-chi squeezed his hand as tightly as she could. 

Eleven years old. Gohan was eleven years old and standing without a father for the second time, but he was so stoic. She could not help but wonder where exactly he’d gotten that from. She could barely hold back her tears through shaky breath and blinking eyes. The only person to offer her real comfort was Bulma. She approached her with Trunks in her arms and handed him off to Gohan. He let go of her hand to hold the small, lavender-headed child. She wrapped her arms around Chi-chi’s shoulders and held her so tight that she gasped. 

Her mouth resting against her shoulder, Bulma whispered, “I’m so sorry Cheech.” She found herself frozen for a moment in the face of some genuine intimacy and kindness from the Senshi.

Few spoke to her about the passing and less offered any physical touch. Hands shaking noticeably as they rested on Bulma, Chi-chi held her close and sniffled into the crook of her neck.

Bulma squeezed her tighter before saying, “He’ll come back to us, I-I know it.” She sounded more like she had been convincing herself. 

Still, she was grateful. 

Bulma used the back of her hand to wipe her eyes as she stood up with proper posture again.

Her voice cracked in a way that reflected how Chi-chi’s own had been as she said, “Anything you need, just, let me know.” Chi-chi smiled rigidly, the expression only lifting the corners of her mouth.

Hesitantly nodding, Chi-chi accepted with a meek, “Thank you.” Bulma appeared to be satisfied with this response and took Trunks from Gohan.

When she finally let go of Chi-chi, she did not make a move to hold her son’s hand. Instead, she watched the small crowd of the Z Senshi minus Vegeta across the way.  She caught the dark eyes of Piccolo from across the way. Wearing that same white cape, but a black top and pants. He was quick to look away when she met his gaze.

She blinked her eyes to try to get some tears out of them. Reaching into her small purse, she pulled out a white piece of fabric and hid it in her fists. Twisting it in her hands, she made sure to keep it well hidden in her hands. 

Her wedding veil.

The one thing that couldn’t be planned for was the unexpected storm. Given the locale, being outside became quickly dangerous. Bulma was the first to close her umbrella and usher everyone into the house. Chi-chi just listened to the sound of commotion the rain brought. People started to make their way to her home where the front entrance was bleeding yellow light into the rain, but he could not will herself to follow.

Just watch. Gohan squeezed her hand a little tighter and started to pull her along but she resisted. Her heels had slowly sunk into the softening Earth around them, but Gohan could easily sweep Chi-chi forward and off her feet. However, her baby boy had always been gentler than Goku. Feeling resistance he stopped to look at her. 

Any words that fell from his lips were drowned out by a foreign ringing in her ears that muted all but the weather. Looking up to meet her son’s dark eyes, she clarified, “What?”

Gohan gave her a tense and frustrated look before he repeated, “Mom, I said let’s go inside.” 

Blinking a few times, Chi-chi turned away from her son in favor of looking upon the empty grave sight of her husband. She dared not look at him, her reasonable son, as Chi-chi shook her head. She was clinging tightly to the white fabric that she had been putting through the ringer since the beginning of the service. Mostly hidden by the clench of her fists. Gohan’s expression was pinched with that same expression before sighing quietly and slowly rising off of his feet. She stared at her husband’s grave, almost ashamed to look at her child in her moment of lost mourning. 

All at once there was a deeper voice that spoke stoically, “Gohan.” Chi-chi’s expression fell, from something soft and sad, to something a bit more angry when she recognized Piccolo.

Still, her son stared at the Namekian that Chi-Chi could only see in her peripheral vision.

His emerald hand cradled Gohan’s face before he stated, “Go. I can stay.” 

Gohan took a deep breath and his expression relaxed with what she could only describe as relief. He nodded and handed off the black umbrella to the demon prince before flying off toward the house. Though she could not bring herself to look at her son, Chi-Chi had resolved to simply not look at Piccolo. He loomed over her like an infuriating statue as he kept her dry from the rain. She used her pointer and middle finger to wipe her eyes of any remaining tears as she stared at the empty casket of her lost lover.

Chi-chi held the veil tight in her hands that she had kept hidden against her upper abdomen and lower sternum. Squeezed it white-knuckled to her, and as Piccolo looked her over, he was sure that it would be ruined beyond repair. Chi-chi stood up a little taller when the green man tapped the back of her arm with his knuckles where he was holding the black umbrella. However, she dared not do anything else out of respect for him and her mindfulness regarding her sharp tongue. Piccolo leaned down a bit to be just a tad closer to her height.

Staring at the white fabric that peeked out between the fingers of her fist, “What are you holding?” He asked, in that same flat tone as he watched her body language.

Even in the peak of summer too much time in the rain could give any human a mild cold. That combined with the fact that whatever Goku’s wife held in her hands had gotten thoroughly mangled in his hands.

“Tell me,” he spoke the quiet order to her which was sweet but an order nonetheless. Piccolo winced before he amended, “Please?” Chi-chi looked up at Piccolo and scoffed, nose scrunched with a terrible concoction of anger and pain.

She tended to shoot off at the mouth at the best of times and this moment with the man who kidnapped her son so many years ago and started this mess. 

Gritting her teeth, she breathed, “No. I don’t want your pity or your polite conversation.” He blinked his dark eyes at her, but Chi-chi would give him no more attention before she turned away from him.

She just stared ahead at where she had set up the small memorial for her late husband, now laughably ruined by the sudden downpour. Goku. Chi-chi closed her eyes tightly and could hear the nervous laughter that he would offer her. Remembering a promise to love each other forever and be married, Chi-chi took a shaky deep breath that made Piccolo stand up straighter once more. The two stand in silence for a long time. Each rumble of thunder or crash of lightning made Piccolo look around and inspect the sky, but Chi-chi could simply not bring herself to care about her own personal safety.

She could only really get lost in memories that she was sure she romanticized all too much. Roars of the storm were simply nature’s way of carrying the way he used to say her name and the lights streaking the sky were just illuminating his lopsided smile behind her eyes. She couldn’t help as she sighed his name. Goku. Chi-chi felt at ease in the chaos of this storm even with Piccolo observing her while making an effort to keep her dry. That was until the Namekian carefully touched the knuckles of his hand along her arm again.

She subtly scooted away from him even though it meant getting her nice black dress a little wet. It became quickly apparent that he did not like that when his hand darted forward to grip her like a vice. Chi-chi turned her head to finally look at Piccolo.

“What?!” Hands balled into fists with her frustration, Chi-chi opened them and held both of her hands out in front of her.

She took a stabilizing breath and pushed her hands down in the process to keep track of her breath.

“What do you want?” Chi-chi tugged against him but the Namekian’s grip did not budge. When he did not answer her immediately she grunted and pulled her arm more aggressively and seethed, “Let go.”

He offered her a cold look, eyes lowered with a look that sought to figure her out. 

Chi-chi stared at Piccolo, harboring so much anger behind her eyes, that Piccolo wondered how it did not boil over into her words. Finally, Piccolo looked back to where his hand easily wrapped around the circumference of her arm and released his grip. Chi-chi yanked her arm back against her body and eyed Piccolo suspiciously. Glancing down at her hand, she slowly opened her hand to look at the thoroughly wrinkled and lightly torn wedding veil. He leaned a little bit closer to loom over her and Piccolo peered at the fabric in her grasp at last, Piccolo was careful not to bump Chi-chi or touch him again.

Chi-chi however, would not have dreamed of taking that chance again. She tucked the veil quickly away down the front of her dress to sit safely in her bra then turned to Piccolo so she could keep her eyes on him as she backed away. Only a few small raindrops are permitted to touch Chi-chi before she blinked and the green alien that just stood in front of her is gone. Where she had just begun to back up, her shoulders came into contact with a warm figure. Chi-chi spun around on her toes to look up at Piccolo, who would only offer her a blank expression.

Glaring up at Piccolo, Chi-chi looked straight ahead at the Namek’s chest and fought tears that dared bring that wobble back to her lower lip and fill her eyes to the brim. The Namek’s statuesque expression softened a bit to see her well with so much emotion before him. He made a careful effort to slump his shoulders to be more at her level until she surprised him once again by shoving at him. He growled reflexively with some frustration and once again used his speed to flicker closer to her, however this time he appeared directly in front of her.

He asked plainly, “Do you wish to fall ill?” Piccolo cocked his head at her, patient expression had transitioned to something darker before he said sternly, “I am protecting you.”

Chi-chi stared up at him again and screamed a loud frustrated sound before she shoved him again. This time he did not follow her, Piccolo just watched as she backed away from him and let the rain pelt her exposed pale skin and black dress. Chi-chi wrapped her arms around her abdomen as she huffed quick breaths in the rain. Piccolo turned his head up toward the sky and a moment later a bellow of thunder echoed around them which only deepened the frown on Piccolo’s face. 

After a moment of just looking at one another, Chi-chi finally called out, “St-stay away from me!” The demon prince only offered her a put-out expression and threw one hand in the air.

He looked up at the interior of the umbrella and muttered something Chi-chi couldn’t hear. 

Piccolo turned to look at her once again with his dark eyes and yelled back to her, “I am trying to keep you safe!” He made sure to move at a pace she could see as he stepped closer, but not into her space this time.

Chi-chi permitted him to stay that close, though she did turn her body to face him at a slant.

He bared his teeth at Chi-chi to show her his sharp incisors and he asked with a frustrated tilt to his voice, “What is wrong with me? Why can’t you accept I just want to help?”

Chi-chi wore an affronted expression on her face and pointed a finger at Piccolo before she accused, “You know— Oh! You know exactly why I don’t want your help!!” She took one step forward before taking three more back so that Piccolo could not easily grab her without advancing toward her once again.

A noise bubbled in Piccolo’s throat that he quickly suppressed so as not to mock or intimidate her. He lifted his free hand to press against his mouth, the slight movement making Chi-chi flinch in a way that he made note of but otherwise ignored. The Namekian closed his eyes and breathed deeply through his nose to keep himself from falling into an argument with her. 

After another moment, Piccolo lifted his hand before he spoke, “You are being obtuse to my intention and evidence from others.” Chi-chi laughed in disbelief at the alien’s accusation.

He looked down at her, brow still pinched with something like reserved anger as he gestured in front of himself. “I am not my worst actions, I take responsibility for them, but they are past. Let. Me. Help. You.”

“No!” She shouted and her voice broke.

Chi-chi froze in place, her fists balled at her sides, horrified that she exposed anything but her anger toward Piccolo. Turning her head to look at the ground, she closed her eyes as tightly as she could, Chi-chi could not fight against the tears that threatened her.

“You… were there…” Her tone was bitter as she trembled where she stood as the rain continued to pelt her and make her dress cling to her skin. “You were there and able and you could have fought but you didn’t…” She glared up at him with water running down her face angrily, tears having mixed with the rain.

Marching over to the tall Namekian, Chi-chi aggressively poked his chest with her expertly filed nail and made him step back, “I’m not special! I don’t have an impressive power level! And I can’t fight like you can, but you are! You can! You were there!” Piccolo was stiff, expression only twitching to frown deeper when she claimed that she was not special.

Still, he remained sturdy under her observation and apathetic as she exhibited more aggressive behavior. Chi-chi stepped toward him, face flushed by the cold brought by the rain and her high emotions. 

Piccolo took one step back before he stuttered, “I-… I do not understand.” She jumped to her toes to laugh with an aggressive tone only a practiced caretaker could get. He attempted to take another step back from her, his feet sinking in the soaked mud, but she simply stepped forward with him and pushed at his shoulders. 

She hissed at him, “Of course, you don’t you— you Demon! How could someone like you understand an emotion so human?! I’m angry!! I’m HEARTBROKEN!!! You ASS!” Falling back onto her heels, she swallowed another sob in favor punching against Piccolo’s chest as hard as she could.

He was moved slightly with the sheer force of her blows, but he had braced himself for her punches and remained almost entirely unaffected. Upon Chi-chi’s discovery of this, she screamed out in anguish. She looked up at him with an angry stare and wobbly lip that made him need to take a breath.

Her voice broke as she continued, “You were there and able to fight, and yet my husband fought! My baby fought! You— YOU STALLED FOR TIME!” He grimaced before she continued, “If you had gone out there— FOUGHT— like the fucking hero—” She looked up at his and pulled back one hand like she was preparing to smack him as she continued, “special person—” but did not go through with her impulse.

Instead of just spitting hatefully, “Thing! That you claim to be! My husband wouldn’t have had to sacrifice himself for all of us! And my Gohan wouldn’t have had to kill that monster!”

She used the hand she had wanted to smack Piccolo with to cover her mouth despite how violently it was shaking. Chi-chi desperately tried to catch her breath as she sobbed loudly in the pouring rain. She took a loud and snotty deep breath that sounded more like another choked sob.

Looking up at the taller alien she said, “Why? Can you tell me that?” She stared up at him with wet eyes, red-faced, and that damned wobbly lip that reminded him so much of her son.

Brow furrowing and her nose wrinkling in that same angry way it had been before as she screamed through her tears to almost combat that clap of thunder, “Why didn’t you try to fight?!”

Piccolo’s heart jumped a little in his chest, and he took another step back before he spoke up in his typical gruff tone, “I do not know—”

“LIAR!” She shouted over him and stepped forward. A flash of lightning. A roar of the weather.

He bared his sharp teeth at her and took a step back again before firmly stating, “We would have all been killed! The reason more of us are standing here than on the other side is because Goku—”

“Stop lying!” She stomped up to him, standing now chest to upper abdomen. She snaps, “You are selfish! You would have used the Dragon Balls! You would have been FUCKING FINE!”

She jerked aggressively at him, it was clear that she had no intention to back down. There was no stutter in her voice and the only cracks were a result of the sheer emotion Chi-chi felt.

She shouted as another flash of lightning streaked across the sky, “Why?” Piccolo closed his eyes tight and clenched his teeth, he knew better than to continue this shouting match. However, his pride would not allow him to simply fly away either.

“Why?!” Another angry roar of thunder. His heartbeat in his chest was so loud. It was all so loud.

She screamed to match the volume of everything else as she just sobbed, “WHY?!?!”

He reached forward without thinking for a moment. Squeezing her enough to bruise and his nails sliced through the fabric of her dress sleeves, he pulled her off of her feet.

He gave into the shouting match to scream back, “I WAS AFRAID!!!”

Huffed breath aggressively through his mouth, Piccolo stared at Goku’s wife with eyes that were dark with anger. Meanwhile, she just stared, her doe eyes blinked a few times in quick succession as more tears cleared their way from her eyes. There was a low growl of thunder in the distance, and it was the only thing that dared to break the silence that hung in the air between them now. 

END OF CHAPTER.

Chapter Text

Piccolo gently lowered Chi-chi to her feet and his hands tensed immensely as he released her arms. Ashamed. 

As Piccolo opened his eyes he kept his gaze on the dirt before he continued, “It was… simple cowardice . Afraid for the Earth— for Gohan. The thought— the knowledge that I could not—” 

He was interrupted only by the gentle touch of Chi-chi’s fingers grazing his cheek. The Namek lifted his head to look at her in a way that was not so much abrupt as it was surprising. She briefly pulled her hand away. 

Her Goku had never been nearly this stoney or aggressive, so she was a bit at a loss with how to care for him. All she knew at that moment, was that Piccolo was the first of the Z Senshi to give her real honesty about what happened that day that she could only watch on television briefly. Worried for a moment that he may have frightened her too badly, he loosened the grip of his hands on her arms. He hissed through his teeth and realized that he may have cut her skin. Piccolo leaned in a little closer to examine her arms. Still, she found herself unable to do anything but stare as the weather voiced its complaints. Finally shielded from the rain where it was now loudly pelting the umbrella, Piccolo rubbed at one of her arms in an attempt to soothe any pain he may have caused. The man who she’d cursed in the name of so many times had considered the effects of his death. He was stoic, and not well known, even among his so-called friends in the Z Senshi. Though he was not easily made so, Piccolo found himself surprised when she smiled at him. She was drenched in the rain, her black dress clung to her figure in awkward places and her normally perfect hair had fallen messily out of place. Chi-chi had never been some porcelain doll to be obtained and yet that was always how Goku presented her. The next rumble of thunder caused her to jump a bit, but still, there was that smile painted on her face. The strong woman before him weathered the passing storm.

“I’m… scared too.” Chi-chi wrapped her arms around Piccolo’s shoulders and lifted herself onto her tip-toes to match his height. Piccolo grunted softly in surprise and quickly lowered his hands to her hips to make sure to hold her steady. She was silent as she stared widely back to her perfect little dome-shaped house that her father had constructed for her and Goku to live in. Chi-chi blinked her misty eyes and felt possessed by the moment or maybe the raw honesty that she was gifted. Chi-chi looked back at the yellow glow that spilled from her house where everyone that knew and loved her husband was most likely not waiting for her. It couldn’t be helped. They loved the champion of The Earth, her husband. They had been friends for years and yet rarely socialized enough for her to build the same close bond. She pressed herself into Piccolo, hid her face in the crook of his shoulder, and let her hot tears fall against his skin. He stood still, yanked to a poorer posture by Goku’s wife, and was a little unsure of what to do with her tears. It reminded him of Gohan.

He leaned down to whisper in her hair, “Hold tight to me.” She nodded at him— she had managed to appear just as mighty as she had been while her screaming combated the thunder. Tucked carefully against him, Piccolo could easily keep her up and off the ground with one hand before he floated off his feet and swiftly flew up along the side of her house before stopping at one of the bubble-shaped windows. Having never been in their home before, the Namekian had no idea what rooms belonged to who. There was a bright streak of lightning across the sky and a rumble of thunder behind them that made his frown deepen before resolving to grab the window and force it open. With his strength, it was extremely simple to snap the lock of it before turning his body to float inside. He was careful and kept her carefully off the ground before they were standing vertically. Taking a second to look around the room, he realizes based on the makeup of this space that they were in Goku’s bedroom. Or perhaps now her bedroom. There was a king-size bed, neatly made with a white comforter that was embroidered at the foot with flowers and tree branches. Looking down at the Japanese woman in his arms, Piccolo lowered her to the floor with a careful crane of his neck. Even when her feet were planted on the ground Chi-chi held onto him for just a second longer before she let him go. She wiped her nose, chasing the last of her sniffles away, before walking up to her dresser which had a large mirror attached to the back.

She frowned and complained a little absent-mindedly, “I can’t wear this downstairs.” Chi-chi took the tulle hat and veil off her head and placed it on the dresser where it had begun to get the surface noticeably wet. She could bring herself to worry about the water damage once she found something suitable but not noticeably different to wear. Her hands sifted through the neatly folded dresses as Chi-chi looked for a black one. Piccolo’s eyes were trained on Chi-chi as she searched her drawer, the way she searched became less careful as seconds passed and she began to hum a little frustrated with her findings or lack thereof. Carefully, Piccolo stepped behind the smaller woman so he was directly behind her and bent forward at the waist slightly to get a better look at what she was looking for. She tensed a bit, standing straighter for a moment and slowing the useless sift of her hands within the same drawer. The Namekian’s dark eyes trace down her neck, chest, back, stomach, and then hips very slowly. The black dress she wore was clinging to her figure in a way that was making her suddenly self-conscious.

Chi-chi paused fully in what she was doing and turned her head, which was surprisingly level with his. Even with her focus shifted to his face he still kept his proximity to her and did not move his gaze as he continued to measure her up. His dark eyes quickly lifted to meet hers in a way that made her heart strangely catch in her chest. The two continued to stare at each other for a beat, their faces just a few inches away before that initial startled feeling began to shift into something more defensive in Chi-chi.

“Are you looking for something?” She asked, her pitch raised by her irritation. Piccolo held her gaze for just a moment more before he straightened his spine to look down at her again. 

Raising a brow, Piccolo answered for her, “No. Just at you.” He turned to walk away from Chi-chi and toward the bed but he had left Chi-chi slack-jawed. There it was, another skip of her heart that was not fearful and some warmth zinging in her shivering frame. She pulled her hands out of her dresser drawer and lifted one hand to gently touch her collarbone in offense. 

She turned to look at him where he was standing at the foot of her bed and she said * “Excuse* me?” Piccolo had his hands partially closed with only his index, middle finger, and thumb held out. The tip and upper length of his index finger of his right hand were resting against his forehead and the left was pointed at the bed with his palm facing it. His focus on the bed was intense and not at all on the woman whose offense he did not really understand. Chi-chi pushed the drawer closed with a gentle sound and began, “What are you—“ She gasped as a white light came from his hand pointed at her mattress and she feared he would burn them. However, as the light hit the bed it laid in a long shape. The flashed once before settling, and laid out on her bed was an identical black dress to the one she had been wearing. 

Piccolo lowered his hands and turned to look at Chi-chi again and said, “This should be suitable.” Chi-chi eyed the dress on the bed and then stared up at Piccolo a little skeptically, still she approached the bed and picked it up. The garment truly was her dress, the cut and the feeling of the fabric were just as they had been when she had first gotten it. She went to pull the dress against her body to see the size but immediately pulled it away from her again once she remembered the small freezing puddle she was creating on the floor. She would just have to see once she tried it on. 

“Thank you.” She said humbly, though with still a bit of growl to her voice that would make anyone doubt the genuine nature of what she had said. Chi-chi turned to go into the master bathroom to dry off and change into the new dress but remembered the long zipper down the back of it that she had to get Gohan’s help with before company had arrived for the service. She groaned softly before she looked back up at Piccolo and allowed her gaze to drift down and away from him before she awkwardly began, “My dress… It needs-“ Shifting her weight from one foot to the other before looking back up at the Namekian who still had that blank expression on his face. She took a deep breath through her nose and said, “I need help with the zipper.” Chi-chi turned around in front of Piccolo so she could point out the zipper on the back to him and ask, “See here?” He hummed in stoic confirmation. She nodded and reached behind her back as well as she was able to pull at the zipper with one hand and keep the dress taut against her back with the other. Trying to maintain some of her dignity in the face of her enemy, Chi-chi stretched to pull the zipper until her arms ached, which happened to be about her mid-back. Her skin was very pale and visible to Piccolo, as was the white latch to the back of her bra. Chi-chi sighed and looked over her shoulder at Piccolo. She questioned him, “Well?” 

His gaze shifted to her face as quickly as she had turned to look at him, Piccolo echoed at her, “Well?” Chi-chi scoffed and rolled her eyes before she lifted her hands to gesture at her exposed back.

“It goes down my back?” She spoke expectantly as though it were the simplest of instructions and yet there was the Demon Prince lifting that damn brow at her * again. * “Are you dense?” It was then Piccolo’s turn to roll his eyes before he shrugged his shoulders at her. She groaned and stomped one foot on the floor before saying through her teeth, “The zipper goes to. The. Hips. I can’t get out of it if you don’t unzip it.” Both brows climbed Piccolo’s head as he relaxed his posture again but made no move to assist with the zipper yet.

Instead, he clarified, “You are… accepting my help?” Chi-chi’s expression softened remembering his words outside when he had seemed so vulnerable and open for the first time since she’s known him. Let me help you was what he said.

She laughed exasperatedly and tossed her hands up in front of her, “Yes.” Chi-chi begrudgingly admitted. Piccolo, however, still had that strange wide-eyed expression as he approached her. 

He carefully held the fragile metal of the zipper where it would align with the dimples of Chi-chi’s back and pulled it just enough to keep the fabric in place the same way he had seen her open up with the top. She had turned with a sneer on her face to hiss an empty threat about what she would do if he were not careful, however, it was pointless. For all his strength he was soft with her now. Goku had accidentally ripped garments of hers more times than she could count, so she imagined this kind of gentleness must have been a great challenge. But it didn't seem to be for Piccolo. He hooked the tip of his claw-like nails in the actual zipper itself and pulled it down her back. As he did, the dress opened slightly and revealed the soft indent of her spine and lower back. Not that he was trying to observe Goku’s wife in that way. Still, his touch was warm against her shivering frame and when he stepped closer to her, he had not realized that his feet were now resting with the tips of his shoes between her mud-covered heels. So close. Close enough that he could smell her pearlescent skin. Like the rain, heat, and something like white jasmine or the particular sweetness of persimmon. Unique and not like Goku at all. Strange that Goku didn’t pick up any of her perfume on his clothes or hair at all in the time that Piccolo had known him. It was like they did not even touch. The favor Goku had forced upon him made less sense now.

“Piccolo?” The Namekian blinked when he realized he was staring and took a short step away from her to allow her space. Chi-chi turned around to look at him once he had stepped back. She crossed her arms in an ‘X’ over her chest so her hands could rest on her shoulders and hold the open edges of her dress at least somewhat closed to maintain her modesty. She stared up at Piccolo, her expression pinched with some discomfort and she took another half step back from him. “I-I’m going to change… then. You can- you stay here... or go downstairs.” Chi-chi then, instead of following through on her spoken action plan to go get dressed in the new article of clothing that he had made for her just continued to watch him. Piccolo stared back with that ever-present, stoic expression before crossing his own arms and taking a seat at the edge of her bed. 

They tracked each other’s eyes as he offered in a huff, “You will need help with the zipper, correct?” Chi-chi’s brow furrowed and she leaned away from Piccolo. Her tight grip on the sleeves of her dress remained. Taking a deep breath through her nose, she nodded curtly at the green man seated on her bed. She then, very cautiously, walked backward toward the master bathroom and kicked the door closed with her foot. 

Chi-chi stood in her master bathroom and stared at the door for a beat before she exhaled and whispered, “What the hell?” She scrubbed her hand down her face before she turned to face the mirror.

Chapter Text

Chi-chi let her dress fall to her ankles to leave herself in just a matching set of plain black bra and panties. Disheveled was the only way she could explain how she looked. It may seem a bit vain to some, but Chi-chi did care about her looks and did not want her and Goku’s friends to see her as she was now. Her hair was soaked and sticking to her forehead and sides of her face awkwardly, her black mascara had run in greyish streaks down her cheeks. She ran her first two fingers over her right cheekbone and then she left to wipe her makeup away. She carefully unwrapped her bun on top of her head and let her hair fall gently down over her cold shoulders.

Fortunately, most of her hair was still at least a bit dry aside from the topmost layer. Chi-chi did not bother touching up her mascara again but did want to dry her hair somewhat, at the very least. She glanced at the dress from Piccolo on her arm before she turned to hang it on the curtain rod of her shower for now. There was no need to try to balance it on her arm and wrinkle the new dress. Once she had it rested there, Chi-chi turned her back to grab a towel from the bathroom closet. She opened the door to the closet carefully and reached in for one of her plush bath towels. As she began to slowly pat her hair dry. Chi-chi ran her hand through the damp locks of her hair to separate and shake them out as she fought against her instincts to shiver from the cold. She sniffed air through her nose in an attempt to steel herself and scrubbed at her face with the towel to rid it of any other makeup. As she did, Chi-chi approached her mirror once again to give herself a once over. She yanked the towel away from her face and tossed it into the sink without thinking. Her towel slid slightly from the sink and toppled one of her apothecary jars from the countertop to the tile floor where it shattered on impact.

She jumped and a startled sound escaped her lips before she cursed, “Dammit!” 

As she did, Chi-chi was surprised to hear the door to the bathroom thrown open behind her. She whipped around and pressed her bath towel to her chest in a panic. 

“Are you alright?!” Piccolo asked boarishly. 

Chi-chi stared at the taller Namekian who had very plainly broken the locks on her door to check on her. He did not seem to see her at all as he burst in, instead, he had his eyes trained exactly on the spot the glass jar hit the floor of the master bathroom. Piccolo’s eyes lowered slightly, no longer as fully alert as he had been when he heard the jar fall. 

Chi-chi stared at him blankly before she slowly started to flush red, “Piccolo,” The Namekian turned his head slightly to look at her and his eyes noticeably widened at Chi-chi’s state of undress. It took mere seconds for her to adjust her towel, the only thing keeping her modest, to free one hand to properly smack Piccolo across the face. She hollered, “What the hell?!” Thankfully Piccolo had the good sense to turn his head with the smack of her hand so his steely features would not hurt her hand.

He could not tear his eyes from her as he said, “I thought something was wrong—“ 

“You should knock!” Chi-chi waspishly retorted. She quickly moved a section of her hair from her face. Chi-chi seethed at him, “What is wrong with you?! Too many knocks to your head and you lost all of your common sense?!” Piccolo shook his head quickly before he gestured to the floor wordlessly. Chi-chi turned her head to look at the apothecary jar. She scoffed, looked up at him, and mocked, “What? You’re worried about me?”

He looked back to her before his lips parted to prepare to speak. Still, she cut him off before Chi-chi shouted, “You didn’t seem to worry much when you kidnapped my baby!” 

Piccolo closed his mouth and glanced between her and the shattered glass before he softly explained, “You could have been in physical danger—“

“You’re about to be in physical danger!” Chi-chi threw her hand in the air and waved it around erratically. Piccolo did not flinch, but he did look at her with deadly seriousness. She took one step closer to Piccolo and ordered lowly through her teeth, “Get out.”

“I’m—“ Piccolo turned his head toward the ceiling before he thought better of it and covered his eyes for good measure. He continued, sounding a bit tense, “Going. I’m going.” He backed up toward the door and groped at it blindly for the handle so he could properly close it and offer her privacy. 

Chi-chi lifted a fist in the air in a threat she fully knew was empty as she shouted, “And stay out!” She discarded her towel on the floor and roughly yanked the dress off of the curtain rod. She could not understand why he was so concerned with her, but she wanted it to stop. Chi-chi kicked the soaked dress out of her way so she could make quick work of sliding the other on. She pulled the black fabric over her hips and slid her arms into the dress. 

Chi-chi quietly complained to the four walls of the bathroom, “Now I’m going to have to ask him for—“ She reached behind her and found that she had reached too low for the zipper. She blinked in surprise and looked up at the mirror. Turning her body slightly, Chi-chi found that she was not confused but that the zipper was a bit higher on this version of the dress. She reached behind her slowly and found that it was much more easily accessible than it had been when Piccolo needed to help her out of it. She placed a modest hand on her collarbone and gently stroked at the fabric there. Chi-chi pulled the high neck of the dress forward slightly to examine the inside of the garment. It was the same as before, except more thoughtfully made. Chi-chi glanced toward the closed bathroom door before she tugged the fabric a bit higher to her nose and inhaled it. 

Oh.

It smelled like the Namekian strangely. Wet stone and the earthy sweet scent of flowers from the lookout, this new dress smelled as though he had held and made it with his hands instead of a burst of energy. She turned to face the door completely before Chi-chi sucked in a second deep breath of his smell. Piccolo. Chi-chi tugged the zipper up her back and sighed with some relief. She nodded once to herself and a second time to her reflection. 

Chi-chi called out to the bedroom, “Piccolo?” She opened the, now-broken, door to her master bath and humbly said, “I just wanted to say, thank you for the dress.” However, as she stepped back into her bedroom, Chi-chi found the space void of anyone else. Chi-chi looked around the room and called out for him again, “Piccolo?” She scanned the room and realized she was once again alone in her bedroom. Perhaps he knew she could zip the dress on her own or more likely that Chi-chi had properly chased him off. She frowned and hugged the arms of the dress that smelled so much like him. A moment alone with her thoughts was the last thing Chi-chi wanted now. She thought of her Goku in the otherworld, more likely caught up in training than observing any of his final send-offs. Chi-chi released her arms after another moment of holding herself close and walked proudly toward the door. A few thank yous, some stories, and then they would all go. She could survive that. 

Chi-chi opened the door of the master bedroom into the hallway and was surprised to see Piccolo leaned against the right wall of the hallway with his eyes trained on the ceiling. He turned his head to look at her and fixed his posture. 

“Piccolo?” She asked and did not mask her surprise. Chi-chi turned toward the bedroom and then back at him before she clarified, “I called for you.” 

Piccolo simply quirked a non-existent brow at her as though he was confused by what she meant. He did not uncross his arms as he approached her. With about two feet of space between them, Piccolo responded, “I know.” He unfolded his arms and amended, “Privacy.” Chi-chi stared up at him, still surprised by his thoughtfulness and care. She nodded slowly before she began to walk down the hallway past him. 

Chi-chi matched his plain tone as she ordered him, “Let’s go then.” Piccolo hummed a low affirmative sound as he let her go two paces ahead. He then followed her closely, but not too close to be uncomfortable. In a world without the man she had loved for so many years on the day he not only died but truly committed to not returning, Chi-chi felt raw. Her ego felt bruised. It was like hell, but she could hear those footsteps behind her. If she had to traverse this hell there was some comfort in the knowledge that hell was not empty. Chi-chi turned her head carefully just to check that he was still there and he was. 

END OF CHAPTER.