It was a still evening. The warm summer wind had been laid to rest; a quiet rustling that scattered the leaves on the dark forest floor. The last beams of sunlight flowed through the green pines, reaching out to warm the trees before night fell. A quiet stream was all that could be heard, with crystal clear water running softly over smooth, round stones. It was evenings like this one, so quiet and peaceful, that Piccolo found he could listen to the souls of others. He would hover about the ground innocently, barely noticeable among the foliage and darkness of the forest, with his intelligent eyes closed in deep thought. There would be moment of movement as his cape billowed around him and the scent of pine and earth invaded his senses, then complete stillness. His body would cease to exist in this real and tangible world and begin to live on in another. As he floated above the quiet stream, hidden by the tall pines, he began to meditate.

Just beyond the stream, as quiet as the forest that surrounded it, sat a small cabin. It had been meticulously built by strong hands with odds and ends of wood. It was symmetrically perfect and strategically placed in the center of a clearing, surrounded by tall and ancient pines.

Piccolo had come here, to Juunana-gou’s cabin, to ease his troubled heart.

He had come here many times. Ever since the jinzouningen had first appeared here, as soon as they stepped out of Gero’s laboratory, Piccolo had been watching them. It was hard to concentrate on the female jinzouningen, for her family often interfered. But Juunana-gou, the one that he had fought with before --- Piccolo found it easy to watch him. He had followed Juunana-gou often since then. He watched him find this clearing in the forest, could see in his mind the image of a quiet cabin in front of a trickling stream. He watched him build it, saw the precision with which he hammered in the nails and smoothed out the boards. And he had been watching his thoughts as well. Lately, those thoughts had begun to concern him. So he had been watching more often. And as he watched, as he felt the horrible thoughts in Juunana-gou’s mind grow louder, he began to feel sick with dread. When his time wasn’t taken up with his brutal (and often painful) sparring matches with Koronu, he was here, meditating and watching.

A door opened. Though quiet, Piccolo could hear the gentle squeak of the hinges as it swung open and Juunana-gou stepped out into the evening. The android’s footsteps were silent on the soft forest floor as he walked around to the side of the house where the woodpile lay. Juunana-gou bent down and grabbed an armful of logs, hugging them to his chest. He paused for a moment, then looked up into the forest around him, his blue eyes narrowed. Piccolo drifted further back into the trees, his eyes still shut tightly. He was seeing Juunana-gou only through his mind.

Before him, the handsome android brushed the long black hair out of his eyes with a free hand and stared into the trees for a moment, as if he were waiting for something, or searching for something. Piccolo knew that he could sense him, an unwanted presence in his forest. The jinzouningen had been built to sense such things; had been built with senses stronger than any average human being. But Piccolo was not average either, and could become completely silent and still if it was needed. As easily as a shadow could blend into the night, Piccolo could blend into the forest. He knew that the android would not see him or hear him tonight.

As if convinced that he had only been imagining things, Juunana-gou shifted the logs in his arms and strolled back into the cabin without a second glance.

Piccolo had wanted to believe, wanted to trust in these strangers, much like he had learned to trust the others. He had learned to trust them, to see what their intentions were by meditating, by allowing his mind to enter theirs’. He saw more than the average person was able to see this way. He could view deep inside the hearts of others, penetrate their innermost dreams and desires. It was because of this, because he could see the purity of their hearts, that he kept company with those that he kept company with. He trusted them all: the Son family, Dende, Kamesennin, Kuririn, Yamucha, Bulma, and even Vejiita. Yes, even in the harsh and cruel Saiya-jin prince’s heart there were good intentions. And although he and Vejiita would never get along, Piccolo felt that Vejiita was no longer a threat to him or the people of Earth. And that was really the point of all of this searching, of viewing the truth of their souls. In some way, he still considered himself to be Earth’s protector, its guardian. The people that Piccolo had befriended were among the strongest in the universe, and that meant that if they were to ever turn, to ever fall into darkness, the world would be in danger. It was Piccolo’s duty, or so he felt, to watch and to wait, to make sure that Earth and its people would always be safe. In the past he had never had to worry. The strongest of the universe sought only to do what Piccolo was doing himself: protect. But he saw something in the souls of the jinzouningen that made him hold back his trust.

But it was hard to tell, it was hard to see inside of their tortured souls. As gifted as Piccolo was in reading the hearts of others, he could not see what the jinzouningen held inside of them. He felt --- merely from his own intuition, that the jinzouningen wanted to be good. He knew that both of them had made an effort to be normal once more, to become the human beings that they rightfully should have been.

Underneath all of that though, there was an ever-present sense of danger and foreboding. The jinzouningen had not been created to be normal human beings. They were created by Dr. Gero to be killing machines. Both of them had tried to break out of that mold and become something different than what they were intended to be, but as much as they tried, Piccolo knew that they could never be normal. What Gero had done to them was unfixable and unchangeable. They could fight for normal lives all they wanted, but the evil that he had planted in them would always be there. And lately, that feeling of evil had been growing. There was something approaching; something that was going to happen soon. It was building, churning, roaring beneath the surface. Piccolo could feel it coming as he sat in deep meditation behind the android’s cabin.

And inside, Juunana-gou stood beside his fireplace silently, adding logs to the growing fire.

Kuririn watched his wife as she did the dishes quickly and expertly, scrubbing them in the soapy water that filled the sink. He stood next to her at the sink, a light blue towel in his hands as he dried the clean dishes and placed them neatly in the cupboards. They worked in silence. Much of their day together had been silent, and not a word had been uttered about the night before. Juuhachi-gou had woken up quiet and reserved, not even wanting to touch him or see him it seemed. Her excuse had been simple and forceful: it had been a nightmare. They had gone about the day as if nothing had happened, but Kuririn was tired of pretending. He cared about her too much to let something like that slip by. If Juuhachi-gou was sick, then he wanted to take care of her. She could try and pretend that nothing was wrong, but he knew better. He had seen her last night like he had never seen her before: falling apart.

He felt that for the most part, she hadn’t said anything because of Marron. He knew his wife well enough to know that she would not want Marron to know anything about what had happened the night before. Their daughter was blissfully innocent and unknowing about the troubles of the world, and they wanted to keep it that way. The girl had a very soft heart and sensitive feelings. If she thought that something was wrong with Juuhachi-gou, it would upset her very much. But now that she had gone to bed, Kuririn felt they did not need to hide anything anymore.

“Do you think you should go to the doctor?” He asked, hesitant and quiet.

There was a very long silence, as she scrubbed one of the dinner plates. Her beautiful blue eyes showed no signs of anything. She rinsed the dish off, then handed it to him nonchalantly. “No.”

He had figured that she would say something like that. He rubbed the smooth white plate gently with the towel and placed in the cupboard above his head. Shortly after they were married, Juuhachi-gou gave him her first gift: a stool. She had given it to him as if it were nothing and placed it next to her at the sink. She acted as though it were not a big deal to her, but to him it was a sure sign of her affection for him. Their height difference was really quite large and she had given him the stool so that they could be even. It was her simple way of showing him that she did not care what differences there were. Human, jinzouningen, short or tall --- There would be no differences between them.

“You were pretty sick last night, Juuhachi.” He argued.

“I wasn’t sick.” She snapped. “I already told you, Kuririn: it was just a nightmare.”

“If it was a nightmare, then why were you in such pain? Why did your head hurt so badly?” He asked gently. “I really think that you should go see a doctor.”

She stiffened, and her hands stopped scrubbing the dishes in the sink. “It was just a nightmare. I don’t think the medical profession has found a cure for nightmares yet.”

After years of marriage, he could tell when she was beginning to get very angry. Now was one of those times. And when Juuhachi-gou was angry, she was really someone that you didn’t want to be around. Not that she was ever violent or physically intimidating, but because she could floor you with just one single glare. Her eyes alone were enough to make him sweat. Although he could feel that she was starting to give in to the anger, Kuririn refused to let her get away with pretending like it had been nothing.

He stared at her. “I don’t mean to press the issue, but I just want to know that you are fine and healthy.”

“I’m jinzouningen, Kuririn.” Juuhachi-gou said bitterly. “I was built to be permanently healthy. Essentially, I’m a completely perfect being. No sickness, no fatigue ---”

He sighed. “Juuhachi….”

She turned towards him quickly, her eyes narrowing into two light blue slits as she tossed the dish that she had been holding into the soapy water with force. “Just let it be, Kuririn! It was nothing but a silly nightmare! You’ve had them before, I’m sure. Everyone has nightmares. Do you remember when Marron was younger? She used to come into our bedroom all the time crying over some nightmare that she had. You didn’t seem to think that she should visit the doctor.”

“This was quite different, Juuhachi.” He began gently. “Marron wasn’t in physical pain when she came crying to us; she was just scared of monsters. You were actually hurting, Juuhachi. I could see it in your eyes.”

She clammed up, shut him out. He could feel her icing over, just as cold as a snowy winter day. “There’s no use in even talking about it anymore. I’m not going to the doctor; you can just forget it. There is no way that I am going to sit and wait in a cage while some maniac sharpens his tools and gets all of his needles ready. And I’m certainly not going to lie down on a table like a pathetic victim and have him rip me open and start experimenting on me and taking out my insides!”

He gaped at her in horror. “Jesus, Juuhachi. When was the last time you went to a doctor?”

There was a strange look in her eyes. “I’ve never been.”

Kuririn thought about that for awhile. It was true. She had never even been to the family doctor’s office. Every time he or Marron was ill, she had always been unable to come for some reason. He had never thought that it was strange before, but now that she mentioned it, it bothered him. His wife was obviously afraid of the doctor, though he wasn’t sure why, unless it had something to do with what Dr. Gero had done to her. He reached up and touched her light blond hair softly, tucking a silky strand behind her delicate ear. He felt her soften slightly at his touch, but he knew that she was still very, very far away.

“The doctor wouldn’t hurt you, Juuhachi.” He promised. “Remember when Marron had that really nasty earache a few years ago? He was great with her! She left his office with a lollipop, a prescription and a smile on her face. And her earache cleared up within a matter of days.”

She gave him a nasty look. “Kuririn, I am not going to the doctor.”

“Juuhachi---” He began.

“I’m not going!” She yelled. Then she picked up the dish out of the sink again and began scrubbing like mad. The muscles in her arms stood out in high relief and he could tell that she was trembling with anger. Because he knew his wife so well, and because he did not want to end up sleeping on the couch for the next month, he backed off.

But he was going to watch her very carefully. And if anything happened again, he would not accept no for an answer. She meant so much to him, and if there was anything wrong with her, he wanted it fixed as quickly as possible. This world was rough enough to try and live it without Juuhachi-gou by his side. She was the world to him. He often felt that she was the reason he had worked so hard, the reason that he had tried so hard to be a good person. Everything he had done in his life, all of his good deeds and kind words had been so that he could finally have something this wonderful to hold onto. He had been a good person, and in return, he had been blessed with the most beautiful and wonderful wife that any man could ever ask for. And now that this problem had arisen, he wasn’t sure what he was going to do. He had a feeling that whatever the problem was, it wasn’t going to go away quickly. However, he knew that he would not let it win. Nothing would happen to Juuhachi-gou as long as he was around. But he kept this to himself and took the dish that she handed him, drying it carefully with the light blue towel. There was nothing he could do now, so he would simply have to watch over her and wait.

Just outside of the kitchen door, Marron stood in the hallway silently. She hadn’t meant to listen, would never want to intrude on her parent’s conversations like that, but she couldn’t help it. She had been worried about her mother ever since that episode in Juunana-gou’s cabin. And now she knew that she was not the only one that was worried. Apparently, something else had happened as well. Something very bad.

She glanced at herself in the hallway mirror. It was a large, oval antique that her mother had bought on another one of her shopping sprees. In the cool reflective glass, Marron saw herself looking more like an adult than a child. She still had her hair sectioned into pony-tails, but her face was thinner and more defined. And most of all, her eyes no longer had the large, innocent look about them. Instead, they looked concerned frightened.

She loved her mother very much; looked up to her as though she were the most perfect woman in the world. Her mother epitomized everything that Marron ever wanted to be: beautiful, refined, and intelligent. And most of all, her mother cared more about her than anyone else. They had a very special bond, and Marron wasn’t about to let her mother get hurt. She wasn’t sure what was wrong with her; it must be something related to the fact that she was jinzouningen, which concerned her very much. She knew that normal sicknesses like earaches could indeed be fixed with a prescription and a lollipop, but there was nothing in the world that could make her mother a normal human.

It took her only a moment to decide, then she turned and flew up the stairs to room. She swung her door open and ran to her closet, digging out a pair of running shoes and her jacket. She shoved her feet into the shoes without tying them and threw her arms into the jacket, not bothering to check if the collar was straight or not. She had a long way to run, and if she started now, she just might make it by daylight.

She crept down the stairs again, watching the kitchen door carefully as she stepped down each step. Stopping for a moment, she paused in front of the mirror once more, and stared at her face. As grown up as she was, there were just some things that she knew she could not handle herself. She opened the door quietly, muffling the click of the lock, and then slipped out into the night. She did not know what was wrong with her mother.