webnovel

The Saiyan Heritage and the Loneliness of the Warrior

Lettie never understood why she felt different from other women. Why did she love fighting and training? Why could she feel the strength of the people around her? And, above all, what was the point of it all? What was she fighting for? Her life changes completely when she is kidnapped, discovers that she has two older brothers called Goku and Raditz, a little nephew called Gohan, and that she is part of an almost extinct alien race known as the Saiyans. Among all that, she finds herself in the presence of Piccolo, a grumpy and impatient Namekian who will train Gohan to become an excellent fighter to defend the Earth against a terrible threat, and finds there the opportunity to also be trained and regain her long-lost heritage of a Saiyan warrior. However, as time passes, Piccolo begins to suspect that everything he knows about his past is wrong when that strange Saiyan woman and child awaken a side in him that he never imagined he could have. Will Piccolo be able to leave everything behind when he sees that his differences with Lettie are minimal compared to the connection they feel, and that the worst thing he can do is hide a subtle but powerful feeling that has grown between them? Or will he let his fear overcome his desire to fulfill the dream he secretly has with her?

Nathalia_Croft · Anime e quadrinhos
Classificações insuficientes
34 Chs

Chapter 32

Hello, dear readers! This is one of the most special chapters of this story.

I would like to invite you to read the chapter while listening to the song "Elysium", by composer David Michael Tardy. You can leave it on loop (available on YouTube and Spotify). I believe it brings the vibe and feeling that I want to convey in this chapter.

----------

PICCOLO

I was floating in a formless, empty place.

Everything was black, except for a light that illuminated only me. It was impossible to tell where it came from—above, below, from the sides? I didn't know.

It was just... there.

Beneath my feet, as far as my eyes could see, stretched an endless ocean. Its surface moved slowly and smoothly. Nothing filled that space but the sound of small waves.

Until I heard it. At first, it sounded like the Voice of many waters, whispering my name, until it grew louder and became like the Voice of loud thunder.

I was not alone.

"Piccolo…" the Voice resonated. "Piccolo…"

"Who are you?" I asked, anxious, looking around.

There was a pause until the Voice responded, "I am who I am. But you can call me Friend."

Silence fell. I looked around, but I saw no one.

"I… I don't understand…"

"I am the Voice that rebuked you that day; the day when you laid a heavy hand and hurt those who are precious to me."

A warm air brushed over me, lifting my cape, but I felt a chill as I recalled that day. Yes… I remembered that Voice well. It was the one that warned my heart when I saw Lettie's wounded body in the hot springs and also Gohan, with a large black eye.

Both hurt by my own hands.

The same guilt I'd felt that day washed over me again, and I lowered my head, recalling how mercilessly I'd made Lettie and Gohan suffer because of me. My shoulders felt a hundred times heavier.

But the Voice spoke again, gentle, soft, and kind, "Piccolo, I didn't come here to accuse you. I came to help you."

A trembling breath escaped my throat. Unable to hold back any longer, I confessed in a fearful whisper, "I'm so scared…"

"Yes, my son, I know…"

Hearing the Voice call me "son", a great comfort filled my chest. It was so good, so soothing… Much like when Kami used to call me that…

I already missed him.

Yet, despite the longing for Kami, I was confused. We had performed the fusion. I was stronger. I knew that.

So what was I doing in that place?

Then, as if reading my mind, the Voice said, "I want to show you something, and I want you to pay close attention."

For a few seconds, nothing happened. However, soon the darkness around me twisted suddenly, like clouds swirling into each other. Then, a large image appeared before me—the image of someone I knew all too well.

Lettie.

I reached out my hand, as if wanting to touch her. There she was, sitting on a bench in what looked like a very old, worn-out, dimly lit gym, surrounded by strange, sinister people. She wore her old white kimono and was wrapping a white bandage around her right hand. Her face was hidden in the shadows. The image then zoomed in on her, and I saw it—a silent tear sliding down her face. Observing closely, I noticed she was the age she'd been when I first met her, after she was kidnapped by Raditz.

I was startled as I recognized that place: the clandestine fighting arena where she used to live.

In that instant, I read her feelings: deep sadness and melancholy. Lettie truly despised being there. Looking exhausted, she stood up and walked past a man who whistled at her, but she ignored him, not without first showing a look of pure disgust toward him.

My blood boiled at the sight, but I had no time to get angry, for the image shifted again, and now I was watching Lettie fighting in the underground arena, surrounded by dozens of people much worse than those I'd seen in the gym.

She was a bit younger than in the previous scene, and she fought her opponent wearing an old, blue tracksuit. Certainly, that had been her uniform before she could afford to buy the white kimono.

Although Lettie's strikes weren't the best (after all, she hadn't had any formal training at that time), I felt proud of how skillfully she landed hits on her opponent. Yet my heart ached as I watched her take blows from the brute with no trace of mercy.

I read her feelings as she fought. Lettie was desperate to win—not for the prize or for glory, but because if she didn't, she wouldn't be able to cover her weekly expenses and would go hungry.

A wave of discomfort washed over me as I watched her in such a miserable situation, and I wished I could enter that scene and finish off her opponent myself. But the image changed again. Now I was watching Lettie even younger, just a teenager. Besides being surprised to see her at that age, I was astonished to discover that she had a long, black hair that reached down to her hips.

Lettie was standing in front of a mirror in a filthy bathroom, her entire face swollen from blows she must have taken in some fight. More tears streamed down her bruised eyes. After a shuddering sob, she grabbed a pair of scissors from the sink and began cutting her hair, sobbing uncontrollably, until it was as short as I knew it to be now.

I was trembling all over as I watched her feelings so devastated and defeated, mourning the loss of her beautiful hair. However, the next image explained why she'd had to cut it. Another opponent, both of them in that same arena, was gripping her by her ponytail and mercilessly punching her face over and over.

It was as if claws were tearing my insides as I watched Lettie being pummeled. But the image shifted again. Now I was watching her, even younger, and I instantly knew which moment in her life this was: when she lived on the streets at fourteen. Still with her long hair, she leaned against the corner of a dark, filthy alley, devouring a stale, rock-hard piece of bread. Her blue eyes stood out on her dirty face, with streaks left by her tears marking the only clean parts.

The anguish I felt, seeing my sweet and beloved Lettie abandoned like that, was so intense that I clenched my fists until I hurt my skin.

And then, numerous other images appeared before me, each clear enough for me to understand: Lettie being thrown out of her last shelter after beating up the boy who tried to abuse her; Lettie receiving orders and shouts from her former guardians; Lettie becoming the target of cruelty and mockery from other children who bullied her for seeming odd; Lettie devastated upon discovering that the kind, gentle old woman who had cared for her had died suddenly...

In each image, she grew younger, and in each one, I could feel nothing but pain and suffering filling her heart.

Tears were already streaming freely down my face when I finally saw the last image appear: a woman was running with a baby in her arms, looking back in desperation. All around her, the landscape was red and filled with destruction, with smoke and fire raining down from the sky. The woman was identical to Lettie, but she wore an armor I knew all too well: the typical Saiyan armor, in green color. The baby in her arms was wrapped in a blanket, but her furry tail peeked out, making it clear to anyone that that baby was also a Saiyan.

The woman then reached an isolated cave, glancing back to see if anyone had followed them. After ensuring they were safe, she walked until she reached an object illuminated by a shaft of light streaming from a large hole in the cave's ceiling: a space pod.

After opening it, she gently placed the baby inside, who let out a whimper and looked up at her mother with her blue eyes. The woman then placed a folded note inside the blanket, making sure it was secure.

"My little Lettie…" The woman stroked the newborn's cheeks, shedding tears heavy with sorrow. "I hope you'll have the chance that I won't. But don't worry. I have faith that one day, you'll find someone who will protect you and make you happy, and you'll never be alone again. You are so special."

With that, she kissed her baby's forehead, sobbing from the pain of having to abandon her child. All her feelings flooded over me like a relentless, merciless tsunami.

The woman closed the space pod, activated it, and watched as her daughter soared into the sky and across the universe, searching for salvation, while she remained on a world crumbling to pieces.

Everything went black again, and an overwhelming silence surrounded me.

Had I not been floating above that endless ocean, I would have fallen to my knees, so weak were my legs after witnessing Lettie's terrible life.

I cried bitterly. My headache reached its peak.

"Why… W-Why did you show me this?" I muttered through gritted teeth, head lowered. "What's the point?"

"I'm not done yet," the Voice replied, keeping its tone as calm as the waters.

Another image appeared, and I lifted my gaze. It still showed Lettie, in a scene very familiar to me: the day she laughed for the first time in my presence when we had our water fight at the hot springs.

Other scenes followed that one: Lettie smiling as she learned a new technique with me during our training against the Saiyans; Lettie tickling Gohan around the campfire at our old Camp; Lettie cooking her soup and sharing it joyfully with us; Lettie hugging me, moved, on the day I taught her to fly, saying she felt like the happiest woman in the world; Lettie playing explorer with Gohan and me during our free time; Lettie proudly beating me on our last day of training; Lettie talking with me about seeking new dreams on the final night at the Camp…

Then, Lettie receiving her house from Chi-Chi; Lettie finding Naíma abandoned on the roadside; Lettie holding baby Naíma in her arms in the bathtub, telling her she was hers forever; Lettie's reunion with me the day I returned to Earth...

Our countless, fulfilling weekends together with Naíma and Gohan; when I became a teacher at her School; the last three years of training for the arrival of the Androids with Goku and his family…

And lastly, I saw the image of our kiss in her kitchen. It felt so strange to watch it from a third-person perspective, like a spectator watching a couple in a movie. But at the same time, it felt so good to remember that moment which, despite ending disastrously, was so wonderful for me.

Unlike the previous images of Lettie's past life, which were shadowed with sadness, these new scenes were brighter, full of life, radiating a deep sense of joy.

Yet, despite the happiness these scenes brought me, I was still very, very confused by it all.

But then, the Voice said to me, "Piccolo, do you see how Lettie only began to find happiness when you got into her life? How she only felt safe when she was with you?"

My eyes filled with heavy, burning tears.

"...No…" I sniffled, shaking my head and squeezing my eyes shut. "Her happiness came because of Gohan. He's her family."

"Yes, that's true. But Lettie didn't choose Gohan, Goku, or Chi-Chi to be her family. They simply are, because they share the same blood or bond. But you, on the other hand, were chosen. Lettie chose you to be her family. You are the one her mother spoke of. You will protect her and make her happy, and you will never let her feel alone again."

My heart pounded hard.

Lettie chose me… Out of billions of people in the world, she chose me

Was I the one to protect her? Was I the one to make her happy? Was I the one who would never let her feel alone again?

"No!" I denied it once more, unable to believe it. "I made her suffer, so much! Physically and emotionally. I don't deserve to be the man she wants!" I gasped as anguish took over me. "W-When I look back, I see nothing to be proud of!"

"Don't look back, look at me!" the Voice echoed, firm. "When you and Lettie were in your lowest moment, feeling unbearably alone, I did not turn my face from you. I saw you and loved you. You told her that no one could help you. But I can!"

The Voice held such authority and conviction that, for a moment, I believed it might actually be true. However, that other voice, the sinister, familiar one, began to surround me again, filling me with doubt.

"My Enemy is too strong…" I said, feeling defeated. "I can't beat him… He prowls around me like a roaring lion, looking to devour me…"

The Voice rose, carrying a fierce wind with it, growing stronger and more powerful, "He is a liar! A murderer from the beginning, who has not held to the truth, for there is no truth in him! When he lies, he speaks his native language, for he is the father of lies! Do you really think your true enemies are beings like the Saiyans, Frieza, the Androids, or anyone else you can fight with your body?! Your battle is not against what you can see!"

I froze at that declaration, trying to understand it. Did it mean that all the treacherous words I'd heard from my Enemy over the years were… lies and deceit?

"B-But," I stammered, even more confused, "I had a dream! I saw him kill Lettie and our children! THEY DIED!!! RIGHT BEFORE ME!!!"

"Yes, that's what he does!" The Voice was so clear it made my chest expand. "He takes your dream, which is beautiful and extraordinary, and distorts it until it looks vile, sick, and twisted. He knows your deepest fears and shows you exactly what you're most afraid of."

Every inch of me tingled as I heard the Voice's claim, each syllable seemed to lift the fog from my mind that had misled me for so long.

Still, fear overwhelmed me, so much that I couldn't hold back a cry, "But… He said they would die…" My words choked with my tears. "He said…"

"I WILL SHUT YOUR ENEMY!" the Voice thundered, full of authority. "And I will give you the power to silence him as well!"

Everything went still.

Then, a gentle breeze wrapped around me, embracing me as if I were a small child.

"Oh, Piccolo…" The Voice was like a caring father. "Listen to me very carefully. A sentence was pronounced over you. Sadness, death, and bitterness. But today, I destroy this sentence. I bring you out of darkness and the shadow of death. Your life will be filled with joy and peace until the end of your days, which will be many. You were not born to follow Piccolo Daimaoh's path and perish like him. You were born to be the leader of your family."

What?

Leader of my… family?

Before me, all the images from my dream at my death replayed—the good parts—where I trained with my children, was welcomed lovingly by Naíma, had lunch with Goku's family, and loved Lettie at the hot springs.

Could that really be my true destiny? To be… happy? To be happy with those I love?

It seemed too good to be true…

"But…" I pleaded, desperate. "What if… my Enemy returns?"

Though I couldn't see it, somehow it felt like the Voice was smiling. "From now on, you will have a Friend. I am the one who will hold your hand and say: do not be afraid, I will help you, for I have called you by name. When you pass through the waters, they will not cover you; when you walk through the fire, you will not be burned. Your wife will be your companion, and great will be the peace of your children, in this and any other timeline."

I didn't need a scene to appear before me to vividly imagine our family: Lettie by my side, Naíma, the twins… and even Goku's family with us.

All united. All at peace.

Little by little, the words from that Voice seeped into my heart, dispelling and blowing away all the terror I had felt over the years, healing my wounds with the most refreshing balm.

For the first time in a very, very long time, the tears that flowed down my face were of pure happiness and contentment.

My headache vanished completely. A smile spread across my lips, and I knew it wouldn't fade anytime soon.

"Thank you so much." That was all I could say in the face of the strength that overtook me in that moment—a strength that came not only from my fusion with Kami, but a reviving strength from within my soul.

"Go now!" encouraged the Voice, sharing in my joy. "The battle is just beginning! Be strong and courageous!"

Upon hearing the phrase I had so often said to Lettie and Gohan in our fight against the Saiyans, my body was pulled downward. The ocean swallowed me, and darkness enveloped me once again.

I opened my eyes, gasping for air, and there I was, back in the Lookout garden, in the same place and time when I had fused with Kami. Time resumed its flow.

My heart raced, pounding, still processing the experience I had just gone through. For a few moments, I stood still, focusing on myself. A profound lightness filled me. Hope surged within me.

I remembered my affliction and misery, my bitterness and sorrow. I remembered it all when my soul had once faltered within me.

Yet mercy had reached me, and I remembered hope as well.

Yes, there is still hope…

Where was the fear?

Where was the sadness?

Where was the doubt?

Where was the dread of death?

And, above all, where was my Enemy?

They no longer existed.

Before I give you the last bonus, I would like to thank reader Gabriela Leal for, perhaps unconsciously, giving me the idea of ​​using the term "Friend" to refer to the Voice. Thank you for your continued support, Gabi.

Now, to end this chapter, I would like to share with you one of my favorite songs. It's called "Your Voice", by one of the most underrated bands on the planet: Les Friction. Listen to the song and tell me what you think. I believe it speaks to the chapter in many ways, however, the interpretation is up to the reader.

Thanks for reading!

Nathalia_Croftcreators' thoughts