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The sky visible beyond the branches was gradually changing its color with the tilting sun.
"It was quite quiet today, wasn't it?"
A gentle breeze overtook the master and disciple as they walked side by side. As night approached, a faint chill lingered, even for early spring. While the remnants of the day slowly faded into shadow, their footsteps painted over the silence.
Gohan couldn't answer, letting out a sigh instead. So many thoughts were swirling inside his chest, yet none of them would turn into words. He wanted to convey the feelings he held, but he didn't know what kind of expression would be accurate, or how to make them understood correctly.
"Lost in thought?"
The calm question, conversely, unsettled Gohan. The gentle voice now became something that stirred his heart.
"...Yes, a little."
Until recently, he had felt that this feeling choking his words was reverence and awe. Before he knew it, however, it had painfully shifted into an unmanageable longing. The moment he clearly recognized it, even just being by his side became painful.
Yet, they had maintained their distance as master and disciple for nearly a decade. To suddenly suggest wanting a different relationship now—the fear of breaking what they currently had was terrifying. It was a trifling worry for a boy, but to the still-young Gohan, it was a momentous issue.
"Piccolo-san, you never hesitate when facing things, do you..."
"What are you talking about?"
Training him, the child of an enemy, must have been the same. Did Piccolo never think he might become a threat in the future? His assimilation with the first of his kind he met, and his fusion with the former God, were even more so. Wasn't he afraid that something would change drastically?
"Because I'm afraid of facing things, afraid of changing... I think it's amazing that you accomplished assimilation and fusion without being afraid, Piccolo-san."
There was no answer for a while to Gohan's words as he looked down. He felt a gaze on his profile, but Gohan could not raise his face. The sound of their two pairs of footsteps parting the grass carried a moisture different from that of winter.
"...In a book from Earth that Dende was reading,"
The sunlight through the trees had faded considerably. In the darkening broad-leafed forest, an anemone bloomed prominently white.
"it said that you cannot prepare a meal without breaking eggs."
Gohan involuntarily raised his face. As their gazes collided, Piccolo continued in an entirely composed tone.
"You study well, so you probably know this idiom, right? I was simply in a position where I had to break them, terrifying as it was."
"You too, Piccolo-san... were afraid?"
"With both assimilation and fusion, the fear was there."
Saying it bluntly, Piccolo returned his gaze to the front. From the boundary between the groves and the grassland, the sun was slanting in.
"...Even though you were afraid, you still changed things."
"That is why the present exists. I do not know what it is you fear, but... if you truly want to change something, if you feel that change is necessary, eventually you will have no choice but to break it."
Nodding quietly, Gohan chewed over the meaning of the words. What on earth was he afraid of? Being rejected and hurt? Or the relationship they had built changing? But between that fear and continuing to keep this distance forever, which was truly the more painful...
Gohan gently reached out and caught the tips of Piccolo's fingers. He remembered how, when they first met, his own hands were still too small, and grabbing a single finger was the best he could do. But now, he could firmly overlap their palms and hold on.
He thought he might be shaken off, but Piccolo merely glanced at the caught hand. When Gohan, having made up his mind, quietly intertwined their fingers, the hand that had been left to his mercy curved slightly, as if squeezing back.
As the trees broke away, the setting sun sinking into the edge of the grassland came into view. It was a heavy sunset, a deep, dark orange, like a broken egg.