Dragon Ball: Perfection

The Son Residence

The sky was beginning to darken when Piccolo landed in front of Gohan's house, holding Pan in one arm. Gohan's modest home lay nestled near the mountains, surrounded by tall trees and fields. The sight was peaceful, quiet, and everything Gohan seemed to want in life. But Piccolo knew that a life of quiet didn't mean one of complacency.

"Dad!" Pan shouted as they touched down, waving toward the house. Piccolo let her go, and she ran up to the door, calling for her father. Gohan, in a crisp button-up shirt and glasses, appeared at the entrance, clutching a stack of books in one arm and looking surprised to see them both there, especially this late in the day.

"Pan! Piccolo!" Gohan greeted them with a warm smile. But the smile faltered as he caught sight of Piccolo's expression, serious and edged with frustration. "Is something wrong?"

Pan ran to him, gripping his leg. "Daddy, we got attacked by these weird guys! They were really strong!"

Gohan's face shifted immediately, his calm, bookish demeanor vanishing as he turned his focus to Piccolo. "Attacked? By who?"

"They called themselves Gamma 1 and Gamma 2," Piccolo replied, crossing his arms. "They came out of nowhere and claimed they were 'testing' my strength." He shot Gohan a sharp look. "The Red Ribbon Army is back, and they're stronger than ever."

Gohan's expression hardened, but a trace of guilt flashed in his eyes. "I thought the Red Ribbon was gone for good... How could they have come back?"

"Does it matter?" Piccolo shot back, his voice a low growl. "You should have been ready for this, Gohan! You've been resting on your laurels, keeping your head in books while the world you helped save slips into danger."

Gohan flinched, adjusting his glasses. "My research is important, Piccolo. I'm trying to make a difference in other ways. Not everything has to be solved with fighting."

Piccolo's eyes narrowed, his disappointment evident. "Do you really believe that? Or are you just making excuses?"

Gohan sighed, looking down at Pan. "I want her to have a father who's around, not off fighting every day. I don't want her to grow up in a world where she thinks violence is the only answer."

"And what kind of father will you be if you're too weak to protect her?" Piccolo's voice was sharp, slicing through Gohan's hesitation. "You're a Saiyan, Gohan. That power isn't something you can ignore. And if you're not going to use it, then who will?"

Pan looked up at her father, eyes wide, a hint of awe and confusion in her gaze. "Daddy… why don't you train like Grandpa did?"

Gohan hesitated, a flicker of shame crossing his face as he looked down at his daughter. Piccolo seized the moment.

"Show me what you've got, Gohan," Piccolo challenged, his eyes narrowing. "Or are you too rusty to even try?"

Gohan took a deep breath, setting his books down on a nearby table. "Alright, Piccolo. If it'll put your mind at ease."

....

They moved to a nearby clearing, the moon casting long shadows over the grass as they squared off. Gohan took his stance, a familiar glint returning to his eyes as he powered up, his aura flaring. Piccolo watched closely, assessing him with a critical eye.

"Whenever you're ready," Piccolo said, his voice calm but firm.

Gohan took a deep breath, then let out a roar as his energy surged, golden light flashing around him. His hair spiked upward, turning a brilliant gold as he transformed into a Super Saiyan. The ground trembled beneath his feet as he powered up, the intensity of his energy radiating outward. But something was off.

Piccolo moved in, quick and sharp. Gohan blocked the first few strikes, but his movements were hesitant, lacking the fluidity and precision that had once defined him as a fighter. Piccolo's strikes intensified, and Gohan struggled to keep up, his blocks and counters growing more frantic.

"You're holding back," Piccolo snapped, his strikes unrelenting. "Where's the power you used to have? Where's the Gohan who defeated Cell?"

Gohan gritted his teeth, trying to keep up, but his movements were sluggish, his focus wavering. He threw a punch, but Piccolo sidestepped, retaliating with a powerful kick that sent Gohan stumbling back.

"You're not fighting seriously," Piccolo said, his tone filled with frustration. "If you go into battle like this, you're only going to get yourself and others hurt."

Gohan straightened, panting slightly. "I'm trying, Piccolo. But I'm not… I'm not the same as I was back then. I've moved on."

"Moved on?" Piccolo's voice was harsh, his words cutting. "You've abandoned your potential. You have a gift, Gohan, a strength that most could only dream of. And you're wasting it."

Gohan looked away, a hint of shame in his eyes. "I know you don't understand, Piccolo. But I've seen what fighting does, the cost it has. I want to live a peaceful life."

"Peaceful?" Piccolo's expression hardened. "Then why are you here, struggling to keep up with me? Why are you falling behind, while threats keep rising?"

Gohan's eyes flashed, a spark of frustration igniting within him. He powered up again, his aura intensifying as he charged forward, throwing a series of punches with renewed vigor. But his form was still off, his strikes lacking precision, his focus faltering. Piccolo dodged and countered, his own movements calculated, testing Gohan's resolve.

"You're not fighting with your heart, Gohan," Piccolo said, blocking a punch and delivering a quick counter to Gohan's side. "Your power's there, but your spirit isn't."

Gohan stumbled back, breathing heavily. His transformation flickered, his aura dimming slightly as he struggled to regain his footing.

"Is this it?" Piccolo pressed, his voice laced with disappointment. "Is this all that's left of the warrior who stood against Cell and Buu? If you keep going down this path, Gohan, you're going to lose everything you care about. And for what?"

Gohan looked down, his fists clenched, his breathing ragged. The weight of Piccolo's words pressed down on him, a reminder of the strength he once held and the responsibility he had neglected.

But he couldn't find the will to answer, couldn't summon the resolve that had once driven him to fight. His warrior spirit felt like a distant memory, something he'd left behind in pursuit of a different life.

....

Later That Evening, Piccolo's Home

As the stars began to dot the night sky, Piccolo sat alone atop a cliff near his home, gazing out over the darkened landscape. The encounter with Gohan weighed heavily on him, a mixture of frustration and sadness gnawing at him.

He had watched Gohan grow from a timid child into one of the strongest warriors in the universe, a fighter with unparalleled potential. But now, that potential lay dormant, buried beneath layers of hesitation and doubt. Piccolo could sense it, the power within Gohan, but it was as though the spark that had once driven him had faded, replaced by complacency.

Piccolo closed his eyes, his mind drifting back to the battle with the Gammas. Their power had been immense, and if Gohan continued to neglect his training, he feared they wouldn't stand a chance against the threat that lay ahead. The Red Ribbon Army's resurgence wasn't just a passing danger, it was a warning, a signal that more battles were on the horizon.

As he sat in silence, a renewed sense of resolve took hold of him. If Gohan refused to awaken his power, then Piccolo would have to take it upon himself to protect those he cared about. He would continue his own training, honing his strength and preparing for whatever challenges lay ahead.

And if the time came, he would do whatever it took to remind Gohan of the warrior he truly was.

With a deep breath, Piccolo stood, casting one last look at the stars before heading inside. He knew the path he had chosen was a difficult one, but it was one he would walk willingly, for the sake of the world, and for the potential he still saw in Gohan.

----

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