Chi-Chi awoke with a stir, her black eyes staring up towards the white-washed walls of her bedroom ceiling. Out of habit, she turned her head to her left, her lips crinkled into a soft smile and her eyes blooming with nothing short of adoration, but all emotion left her face as quickly as it had come.
Empty.
Again.
For the third night in a row.
Chi-Chi didn't know if it was the scent of fresh pine trees and sunflowers that tainted her senses or if it was simply the large imprint left on the opposite side of the bed, but whatever the reason may be, it left her waking up to yet another restless morning of not seeing her husband beside her. The haunting memory of Goku's face from yesterday's blow up plagued her mind; she hadn't meant to accuse him of not caring for her. It was just past frustrations lumped into yesterday's humiliation with the adviser that overwhelmed her and the remembrance of Goku's comment had fueled the fire. And as a result, she took her anger out on him.
Chi-Chi brushed all thoughts of her broken marriage aside and decided to get the day started. Frustration for a third morning in a row was not the way to start of the day, and as such, Chi-Chi cast her bed sheets aside to get prepared for the day ahead of her. However, before she removed herself from her bed, the sound of sheets against paper filtered into her ears and she found herself quirking an eyebrow.
A large sheet of paper was taped haphazardly onto Goku's pillow, its form wrinkled and crumpled with struggle, its edges bent in a vehement fashion. Chi-Chi deduced that if it were handled any more roughly then it'd surely rip to pieces. The widow reached for the paper, but found herself lifting the entire pillow instead. Whoever decided to use tape obviously had no idea how it worked because the entire paper, as well as parts of Goku's pillow, was littered with the sticky material.
Chi-Chi sighed, her eyes skirting over its content. Immediately, she recognized the scratchy, otherwise Kami-awful penmanship, and she found herself unconsciously raising a hand to shield her trembling mouth, a cross between a smile and a pout marking her lips. That's why she smelled him …
Scribble-scratch and crossed out words decorated the paper in an onslaught of broken and misspelled words. Smudged and splattered ink dotted the page also, yet she was able to understand it all, particularly the last sentence written carefully, yet so humorously wrong and damn near illegible at the bottom left corner of the page that it made her cry out in guilt.
"Deer Chi-Chi … I den ent wana wak u up but I wint to Crilens hows. I wil bee bac hom layter. I luv yuu."
She definitely had to make it up to him.
And apologize.
…
Peace.
Quiet.
Tranquility.
These words rang true through Piccolo's head as he took a deep breath, basking in the silence bestowed upon him by the gods (with the exception of one very powerful, very thundering waterfall just meters away from his being). How long had it actually been since he experienced such a remarkable thing known as peace; Piccolo couldn't recall.
After that Buu debacle, Trunks and Goten had become even more attached to him than before. The Namekian didn't know if it was due to the insane amount of time he had spent with the boys when they were undergoing their Fusion Training or if they simply enjoyed aggravating him. Whatever the case may be, Piccolo didn't ponder on it for long. Meditation was all that mattered to him at the moment and nothing would break that; nothing at all.
Except for … maybe, Son Goku.
At first Piccolo had thought nothing of the warrior's presence. Goku did, after all, have a penchant for showing up during the most bizarre of times; however, even when he did show up, if he saw that someone was engaged in an important activity, he'd go out of his way not to bother them and come back another time. Of course, this didn't pertain to everyone.
It didn't bother Piccolo when he sensed Goku flying in his direction. It didn't bother Piccolo when Goku sat on the large boulder right next to the waterfall either. No; what bothered Piccolo was the fact that Goku was staring at him, not so much as uttering a peep, which was extremely unlike him.
The Namekian could always tell when someone was watching him; being asked more times than he could fathom "Are you sick, sir?" or being told "You're looking a tad green, sir." did that to a person and, as such, it always made him a tad bit … self-conscious when someone watched him. Gohan did it. Goten and Trunks did it. Humans did it. And now, Goku was doing it and to say that it was nerve-wracking would've been an understatement.
Resisting the urge to grit his teeth, Piccolo released a deep and slightly aggravated sigh before he peeled an eye open. So much for a day of meditation, he thought as the blinding orange of his teammate's gi filled his eyesight.
As he predicted, Goku sat, much like how he was in the sky, with his legs and arms crossed only, instead of bowing his head and actually meditating, the Saiyan warrior was staring at him with a distant look in his eyes, almost as if he were looking through him and not at him. Piccolo quirked a brow bridge and before he could voice his, for lack of a better word, concern, Goku spoke, his voice filled with a less-than-enthusiastic tone that the fused being was so accustomed to.
"What's up, Piccolo?"
Piccolo blinked, his eyes narrowing slightly before he shut them. "I was meditating. What brings you out here?"
Goku rubbed the back of his head, a smile pulling on his lips. "Oh, nothing," he replied. "I was just on my way to see Krillin and I felt your energy nearby, so I decided to pay you a visit."
"You decided to fly," Piccolo stated.
Goku seemed surprised by his statement, but he simply laughed whilst he rubbed the back of his head. "Yeah; I usually fly when something's on my mind."
Piccolo knew all-too-well what the warrior meant. Brief images of Goku skirting about the planet when he and his wife butted heads crossed his mind; those three years … those three long years were … odd to say the least.
"Something's on your mind?" Piccolo asked, not bothering to look at the warrior.
Goku didn't respond right away; his eyes trailed to the thundering splash of whitewater pooling near the boulder that he sat on and a soft smile highlighted his face. He recalled having short, almost one-sided conversations with the Namekian whenever something was on his mind. Gohan had always told him that the fighter was a good listener. He was always blunt and straightforward with his answers, never sugarcoating anything, which, for the most part, seemed harsh and inconsiderate. Sometimes he fumbled with his words or even over-thought his answers, but he meant well and that was one of the things Goku honestly liked about him.
He was like a semi-nicer version of Vegeta.
"I just found out that I'm not married," Goku said before erupting in a burst of anxious laughter. "It's got somethin' to do with those two times I died so Chi-Chi's been pretty upset for the past couple days."
Piccolo remained silent as Goku continued to prattle on and on, his words spilling like baby vomit.
So, he wasn't married to Chi-Chi and it was eating the warrior alive knowing that his wife was upset about it. If there was anything that Piccolo learned about Goku, it was that he was terrible with words. He either said too little or too much. This instance definitely counted as too much and Piccolo was willing to bet that Goku had said too little in regards to his upset wife.
"What are you going to do about it?" Piccolo asked, cutting Goku off as he was just beginning to talk about how he'd gone without a home-cooked meal for three days straight.
"Huh?"
Piccolo fixed Goku with an annoyed frown and the Saiyan laughed.
"Well, I'm gonna ask her to marry me again, I think. It sounds like the right thing to do and I want her to be happy," the Saiyan answered with a small grin.
"Then marry her," Piccolo deadpanned.
Goku looked at Piccolo for what felt like an eternity, causing the Namekian to sigh. "You think I should?"
"You're the only man on the face of this planet who can put up with a woman like her. And the same can be said to her for you," Piccolo answered bluntly, a smirk highlighting his forest green lips. "Besides, can you picture yourselves with anyone other than whom you're with?"
Goku howled out in laughter. "You really think so?"
"I've lived with you for three years. If there was anyone who could see that, it'd certainly be me. And if there was anything that I learned about you and Chi-Chi, it's that you're both loud, obnoxious idiots; you deserve each other," Piccolo replied humorlessly, his eyes staring directly into Goku's.
Piccolo had meant every word he said. When he had first met the brash female, he thought her to be nothing more than a shrill, screaming tight-wad with nothing better to do but yell. She shoved the thought of education down Gohan's throat every chance she could get and she yelled at Goku for some of the stupidest things sometimes. But after he observed her, observed Goku, observed Gohan, and the way the family actually functioned, he saw her reasoning behind half the things she did.
She was nothing more than an overprotective woman who showered her family with the love and affection of a person willing to do anything to protect them, even if she couldn't do much to help. She didn't want Gohan to become like his father and she didn't want Goku getting himself into danger, and the more Piccolo thought about it, the more sense it made to him. After witnessing her fearless proclamation against Majin Buu before she was transformed into a dairy product, it proved what he thought of her.
She loved her children.
She loved Goku.
And even if she had a funny way of showing it, Piccolo couldn't deny that no more than anyone denied him of being green.
"Don't you find it a little strange that I'm asking you for advice, Piccolo?" Goku asked, causing the fused being to quirk a brow bridge at the Saiyan. "I mean, you don't even have female Namekians. Or male Namekians, right? Can your species even get married?"
Piccolo resisted the urge to shoot a high-voltage ki blast at the fighter sitting on the boulder below him. What the hell kind of question was that? "Shouldn't you be fixing your marriage?" Piccolo growled out.
Goku brightened at Piccolo's response before standing up and stretching. He cast the alien one of his brightest smiles before levitating above ground. "You're right; thanks, Pic! Gohan was right; you should be a therapist!"
"Say what?! And I told you to stop calling me that damn name!" Piccolo exclaimed, his cheeks tingeing pink at Goku's proclamation. Before he could erupt in a clatter of shouts and embarrassed sputter, Goku took off in a burst of energy, his laughter radiating in Piccolo's ears.
"Earthlings," Piccolo muttered bitterly, embarrassingly under his breath before he fell back into a meditative state. "A therapist … damn you, Gohan."
...
When Chi-Chi had finally decided to get out of bed after bawling her eyes out over the note that her lover left behind, she found that she didn't have to lift a finger for the duration of that morning. A sweet love note was all that filled her senses as she wallowed about the house. Turns out that fixing up the bed and taking a shower were the only things she really needed to do.
Goku - oh, her sweet, sweet Goku - took it upon himself to clean up the house. Although it wasn't done in the way she would have fixed it, it was the thought that counted and, as such, she wouldn't meddle. It was his way of apologizing for upsetting her the other day - Chi-Chi was sure of it - although she was thoroughly convinced that he had done absolutely nothing wrong to do such a thing. She was, in fact, in the wrong and as she walked through the house, scrutinizing it with a trembling smile and glistening ebony eyes, it had only made her feel even more guilty for yelling at him.
The floors, from front to back, were free of any dust and dirt. The pillows were fluffed on the couch from where the Son patriarch had slept yesterday and the blanket that he used was curled in - what Chi-Chi was positive that Goku thought was a fold - a tangled knot. The chairs were neatly placed underneath the kitchen table and were dusted and wiped to perfection. The dishes weren't so much as touched, the remembrance of her refusal to cook anything for the past three days flowing into her memory.
All in all, the house was spotless, from the ridiculously half-folded laundry to Goten's usually messy play area, and it filled Chi-Chi's heart to the brim knowing that her accident-prone husband, who ran in fear of having to lift so much as a duster, went out of his way to clean up the house and all over a stupid, one-sided argument.
With a determined smile, Chi-Chi snatched her apron from its holster and tied it around her waist.
She was going to make it up to him, one way or another.
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