Kapitel 20: Chapter 19

LETTIE

Grief is like a dragon that slowly devours you without any mercy.

Well, at least that's how I felt the first month after Piccolo's death.

Despite having won a house and never again having to worry about working in clandestine tournaments to pay the rent for that cheap little room, my heart called for a name.

Two names, actually.

Gohan might not have died; however, his absence brought me a deep and painful feeling of emptiness. It was like I was… lost. I spent a year of my life mothering him as if he were my own son, following his development, watching him learn to speak properly, to explore the nature around him, to become a great fighter...

And then, just like that, he vanished from my routine.

I swear to you, there were mornings when I woke up in my new bedroom and thought, "What am I going to make Gohan for breakfast?", just to remember that he no longer lived with me, but now was eating at some boarding school in another country.

How much I missed his voice, his affection, his curiosity, his peace...

But Gohan at least was alive. 'Course I would see him soon, during the school holidays, when he returned to visit his parents. And I also sent him messages through Chi-chi, which she would write down and tell me that she would gladly pass them on to him. Well, that's what I believed at the time.

I held on to this hope that I would soon see him again.

But nothing could fill the hole in my heart that death brought me.

A hole in the shape of Piccolo.

I saw him in every corner of my house, waking up with me, eating meals with me, watching television with me, cleaning the house with me, training with me...

It was a pain that seemed to have no cure. It just got more intense.

The first nights I slept alone were terrifying. Images of his destroyed body in my arms filled the worst nightmares I've ever had in my life. He screamed for help, begging me not to let him die. And I couldn't do anything. I just saw him perish in the most cruel possible way. In the background, Vegeta and Nappa's evil laughter celebrated their opponent's defeat.

That happened for nights over and over.

I would wake up in the middle of the night, all sweaty, shaking and screaming in complete terror, with the memories of that bloody and merciless fight jumping before my eyes.

Once, my despair was so terrifying that I was only able to catch my breath after running out the front door in the middle of the night and breathing in the fresh air of nature that surrounded my house.

"You should go to therapy," Chi-chi said one afternoon after my call, where I begged her to come over and keep me company. "If you want, I can give you the contact of the place where I go."

She was teaching me a recipe for stuffed bread and kneaded the dough in the sink, while I watched attentively next to her. It was good to have her around. Even though Chi-chi had an angry and rigid temperament, if you knew how to deal with her personality, you would reap the rewards of a firm and sincere friendship.

Besides, deep down, Chi-chi was as broken as I was. Even though she was lying to me, her sisterhood towards me was never false. I felt like she really liked me and my company. Maybe I brought her the calm that her chaotic mind needed so much.

I hadn't gotten a job yet. In fact, I hadn't even looked for one. This embarrassed me, because Chi-chi was the one who was financially supporting me, as she had promised. But I couldn't do anything that first month. My routine was so different from the one I lived in last year with Piccolo and Gohan, and the sadness was so intense that sometimes, I barely got out of bed, flooded by the countless tears I shed on the sheets.

However, I followed her suggestion to seek help from a professional, and it was the best decision I made at that time. I was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder. The traumas I suffered in the battle against the Saiyans left marks too deep for my brain and heart to bear. After all, who wouldn't? I even suspect that Gohan also suffered from a disorder of the kind, but Chi-chi always told me that he was fine and dedicated to his studies at the boarding school.

Fortunately, the combination of the passage of time, the therapy sessions and the medications I started taking did me good. At least, I no longer spent the whole day in bed and I was already thinking about how I could re-enter the job market and stop giving Chi-chi expenses (for she had insisted on also paying for my treatment).

I thought a lot about Piccolo's idea for me to try to be a teacher at a Martial Arts School in the city. But he wouldn't accompany me to any job interviews anymore. I would have to go alone and continue alone.

However, it was just when I was returning from the therapy office that my job opportunity presented itself.

My psychiatrist recommended that it would be good for me to change my scenery, breathe some fresh air and come and go to the office using alternative routes so that I could see different places. And that's what I did.

One afternoon, upon returning home from my therapy session, I took a different route than usual. Piccolo and Gohan occupied my thoughts, in a melancholic longing. It was then that I spotted a small village. It was hidden on the side of a rocky plateau.

Following my psychiatrist's advice, I decided to land in that village to explore it. It was the most beautiful little place! The streets were covered in beige stone mosaics and there was no sign of any cars. The houses were old, with a simple but classic architecture, painted in neutral colors and balconies with dark iron railings.

I walked through the streets and realized that it was a pretty small village. Soon I was in the central square. There was an ornate fountain that stood out among the local commerce. The movement was calm, with some people talking and shopping in the surrounding shops.

Gohan would have loved this place. I bet that even Piccolo as well, due to the calmness of that peaceful environment. I gave a little smile as I thought about them when I sat on a bench next to the fountain.

For several minutes, I watched those people coming and going from their business. Some looked at me with curiosity, for it was likely that that village didn't receive many tourists.

Suddenly, I felt the presence of an evil Ki. I turned from side to side looking for that threat. My brain already thought the worst and imagined that Vegeta had returned to Earth and was looking for me to kill me. My heart raced in terror.

I performed breathing exercises taught by my psychiatrist, drying my hands on my pants. The image of Piccolo then popped into my mind, with his teachings and his sweet presence. My pulse dropped instantly.

I didn't need to be afraid. I was very well-trained by my Master.

I took courage and concentrated. Where did that evil Ki come from?

Surreptitiously, I looked around and saw a girl. She must have been sixteen years old and was walking with a basket full of fruit, the light breeze blowing her flowery dress.

Everything happened very quickly.

The girl turned a corner to cross an alley and, from one second to the next, a pair of hands caught her from behind and covered her mouth to prevent her from screaming.

I watched, wide-eyed, as she dropped her fruit basket and was dragged into the alley by a man.

My Saiyan blood boiled instantly, and I dashed after her. When I reached her, I came across not one man, but five. Waiting to do who knows what to her.

That girl's eyes met mine, and I saw in them the same fear that I saw in the mirror at home when I woke up from a nightmare.

I didn't think twice and attacked those men.

The girl screamed and ran away, crying for help, while I beat each of those bastards with the ability of someone who had been trained in Piccolo's discipline.

My advantage of having superhuman strength ensured that I defeated my opponents with ease. When I least realized it, I was dragging five passed-out bodies to the central square, which was already crowded with all the villagers trying to understand what was going on.

I remained standing and panting, next to those bodies and surrounded by scared and confused looks. My face burned with shyness at being the center of attention.

"What happened???" A short man with thick mustaches and a strong accent made his way and stopped in front of me. His posture and authoritative voice indicated that he was the leader of the village.

In a few words, I explained what happened. Everyone was in shock. The girl was clutched between her parents and what must have been a younger brother, staring at me with a pale face.

"Where's the police to arrest them?" I asked at the end of my report.

Everyone exchanged nervous glances.

"W-We don't have it," replied the leader, downcast. "The nearest department is in another city, kilometers away…"

I frowned, quite disturbed. "You don't have any sort of security?"

The leader just shook his head, looking down at the ground.

"Does this happen often?" I inquired.

"I'm afraid so... Thefts are also quite common, especially on nearby farms." The leader pressed his lips together and the residents murmured bitterly.

"But why don't you build a police department here?" I asked, increasingly indignant.

"We tried." The leader opened his arms. "But it's a huge bureaucracy! All villages in this region lack security. The answer we get is that it is too expensive to invest in qualified professionals in places as far away and peaceful as ours. And we also can't create one on our own. Our income is not that high to maintain one."

"I see..." A pang of anguish hit me when I looked at those scared faces. "And you don't know how to fight to defend yourselves?"

The leader snorted, giving me a sad half-smile. "Look at us. Do we look like fighters to you?"

I followed his gaze around the residents. No. They definitely didn't.

The girl I saved suddenly ran up to me and grabbed my hands. "Please! Teach me how to fight! I want to learn!"

"I want, too!" Her brother took a step forward and hit his chest. He was only a little older than Gohan. My heart warmed.

Ten seconds later, several of those people, especially young ones and children, surrounded me and begged me to teach them how to fight.

At first, I was stunned by all those requests and looks bordering on despair. Then, for the second time, the image of Piccolo came to my mind. Just like the oath I swore at his funeral.

My chest doubled in size and I smiled at those people.

A week later, I started my first class in my Training Room.

I was no longer just Lettie, but rather, Master Lettie.

I admit it was challenging at first. My students knew nothing about discipline and order in a Martial Arts School. They were all too humble and some had difficulty understanding that, to become a good fighter, they would need a lot of patience and dedication. It wasn't something that could be learned overnight.

But as time passed, I soon learned to deal with them and their difficulties. The news that the village girl had been saved by a powerful warrior spread throughout the region and, within a few weeks, I was working full time from Monday to Friday and Saturday mornings, with my schedule full of classes.

I finally no longer needed to depend on Chi-chi's money.

Speaking of which, my sister-in-law, despite initially seeming to have a deep aversion to fighting or any topic related to the subject, was a great supporter of my project. So, after several visits to my house to keep me company and teach me new recipes, I discovered that Chi-chi didn't actually hate fighting. Quite the opposite. She loved it. She even fought in tournaments when she was younger.

Her problem with fighting had another name, and it was called Goku.

In addition to our love of cooking, Chi-chi and I shared another common attribute: we both dreamed of getting married and having children. In fact, sometimes I felt more like her sister than Goku's.

Well, the fact is that Chi-chi managed to make her dream come true. However, as I deepened our friendship and better understood her personality, I realized that she was pretty frustrated with her dream.

My brother, apparently, placed his passion for fighting above his family. For me, it was quite strange that Goku went traveling when he had barely just been resurrected. So I wasn't surprised that Chi-chi had such a sensitive mood. I bet it was revolting for her.

It wasn't once or twice that she cried when she revealed to me at some afternoon coffee how much she missed her husband, his affection, his touch... Besides, Goku didn't work and didn't bring home any financial income. All he thought about and did from the moment he woke up was training and eating tons of food. Although Chi-chi was rich and money was not a problem, Goku's lack of providing attitude caused her some problems with her father, from whom she inherited all her fortune.

I don't know about you, but if I were a father, I wouldn't want to see my daughter marrying a guy who doesn't work and only thinks about fighting 24/7.

That's why Chi-chi was so strict with Gohan in his studies. For she did not want him to follow his father's path and become a "rebel" (her words).

This subject led to long hours of conversations between the two of us. I told her about how I convinced Piccolo to let Gohan play explorer during our Training, as the boy needed to have a healthy balance between the types of activities he did. In that, at least, Chi-chi and Piccolo had in common. They were both super strict: one in studies, and the other in training.

However, just as I convinced Piccolo to take it easier in training, my arguments with Chi-chi seemed to convince her that, in the future, when Gohan returned from boarding school, she would take it easier on him in studying.

At least that's what I hoped.

Due to all her frustration with fighting, to maintain peace in our relationship, I tried, as much as possible, to avoid talking about this topic every time Chi-chi visited me, and I'm happy to say that many delicious recipes came from our fraternity.

If my Martial Arts School went wrong, I would definitely be able to support myself with the dishes I learned from my sister-in-law. I don't want to brag, but I'm a great cook! It's a shame I can't cook for you, dear reader. I'm sure reading would be more enjoyable with a nice dessert in front of you, don't you think?

So, after about five months since the battle with the Saiyans, I was strong steady in my classes, my PTSD episodes had lessened, my friendship with Chi-chi was growing, and I was even earning some extra income by making cakes or baked goods that my student's parents ordered from time to time.

But something was still missing.

The pain of Piccolo's sudden loss continued to haunt me. Day and night. I can't say whether I was still mourning his death or not. It is impossible to calculate how long a person can grieve someone's loss.

I believe that what tore me most was that I had absolutely nothing of him to keep with me or to ease my longing for him. No photos, no letters, not even a piece of his clothes for me to sleep with. The only thing I had left was the sweatshirt pajamas he made for me when I got sick. I wouldn't take off that pair of pants for anything in the world. Just to wash it, and I would put it back on when it hadn't even dried properly.

However, it was on a cloudy afternoon that I found something that brought a part of Piccolo to me.

Not something... Someone.

I was having a horrible day. I had a nightmare about Piccolo's death during the night, in a surprise and unwelcome episode of my PTSD. For the thousandth time, I dreamed of him dying in my arms, and I couldn't do anything to save him.

After my last class on Saturday morning, I didn't feel like eating lunch and just wanted to stay in bed. That was a bad sign for my treatment. However, a voice told me to leave the house and fly around the region. A soft and gentle voice. It was as if a greater force wanted to drag me out of the house against my will.

I tried to resist, but my heart beat fast and I couldn't stand it any longer, fearing it was a new panic attack. So I left home to obey my stubborn heart. Gray clouds covered a heavy sky. A terrible storm would soon hit. But I didn't care. Who knows, maybe the rain would wash away the sadness from my soul?

I flew for around five minutes and felt frighteningly exhausted. Tripping over my own feet, I was forced to land on a dirt road that connected one village to another. As soon as I started walking, a sudden weakness came over my legs. I had to sit on the side of that lonely road.

"Oh, Piccolo..." I sobbed, softly, looking up in the hope of seeing his white cape crossing the dark skies.

But the tears blurred my vision, and I saw nothing.

I remained there, crying in an anguish that seemed to have no end. How long would I feel broken like that?! When would that pain go away??

The only thing left for me was to lower my head between my legs and cry, cry and cry…

It was then that another cry overtook mine.

A high-pitched, shrill cry full of despair.

A baby's cry.

The typical adrenaline that I knew so well ran through my veins at the same moment and I jumped up, with my eyes still swollen and burning.

Looking for the source of that cry, I ran down the road, kicking up dust as the crying grew louder. It was then that, near a lawn, I spotted a wicker basket.

The crying was coming from inside the basket. Without thinking twice, I leaned over that basket and gasped in astonishment.

There was a baby in there.

Wrapped in a pink blanket, her face was red due to the effort of her crying. She was so tiny. She must've been only a few days old, and a tuft of black hair covered her head.

Carefully folded between the layers of the blanket, a white note stood out. With shaking hands, I opened that paper and read, "Her name is Naíma. Please take care of her. I beg you. Thank you."

A tingling ran through my entire body.

In my head, an image formed: when my mother put me in a space pod to travel across the Universe, hoping that I would find safety in another world.

A heavy, hot tear ran down my face.

I analyzed that note, I looked at that baby...

And I saw myself.

It was as if lightning from that imminent storm hit me.

The next thing I knew, I had already taken the baby in my arms and cradled her on my chest, rocking her to calm her, while I looked from side to side to see if I could find anyone there.

But there was only me and the baby on that lonely dirt road.

My heart was racing as I found myself in a situation I never imagined would happen. I had found an abandoned baby!

Only one name crossed my mind: Chi-chi. I needed to go to her and seek guidance from her. Yes! She would know what to do!

A wave of energy took over my body. I needed to fly, but how?! The baby was too small. It would be dangerous for me to fly by myself with her. I needed some sort of transportation that would at least bring us some safety. But there was no taxi rank nearby.

It was then that I remembered something. But, would it work?

It didn't matter. I had to at least try. The baby needed help, and urgently.

"FLYING NIMBUS!!!" I shouted to the skies.

I waited anxiously for seconds. Did only Goku have the power to call it?

My heart was about to come out of my mouth when I finally saw it: a bright yellow dot amid so many dark and gloomy clouds. The Flying Nimbus stopped in front of me. I looked down at the baby in my arms, squeezed her a little tighter and climbed up.

It was like magic. I just thought of Chi-chi's house, and the Flying Nimbus rose quickly but safely into the air. It seemed like it could feel that there was a fragile little life in my arms and that it needed to fly more carefully.

Throughout the way, I stroked the baby's back and whispered gentle, comforting words, trying to nestle her into my neck to feel protected and warm.

My soul hurt as I heard that baby crying; a painful cry from someone who experienced fear and loneliness in such a short time of life. Her tiny body fit in my two hands, which held her tightly so she wouldn't fall along the way.

When I landed on the lawn in front of my sister-in-law's house, the first drops of that storm fell. I thanked the Flying Nimbus and ran. "CHI-CHI!!!" I pounded on the door in desperation. "HELP!!!"

I heard a pan lid falling inside and hurried footsteps. "BUT WHAT THE–" shouted Chi-chi as she opened the door. But she froze.

Our frightened eyes met. Hers then went down until they looked at the little package in my hands.

"P-Please..." I whispered, rocking the baby, both of us crying. "Help me!"

"Come." That's all she said, giving way and closing the door behind her.

I went straight to the couch and sat down, supporting the baby on my legs, massaging her chest to calm that troubled little heart.

"What happened???" Chi-chi sat next to me, staring at the baby. "Who is she?!"

Stammering nervously, I told her everything. Including the part where I needed to leave my house due to my emotional state. For a while, I watched Chi-chi analyze the baby with an enigmatic look, still restless in my lap.

"It's like... It's like it was meant to be..." she whispered.

"What did you say?" I replied, confused.

She turned to me with a serious expression. "Look out the window, Lettie."

I turned my head in the direction she had pointed and watched a torrential storm crashing through the sky with heavy drops of water. A horrifying thought occurred to me: if I hadn't obeyed that voice in my heart and found the baby in time, she would certainly have drowned in that storm. It would have been too late.

It's like it was meant to be...

With wide eyes, I stared at that baby in my arms, and my heart skipped a beat.

I went into despair. "But what now?! What do I do, Chi-chi?! Y-You've had experience with Gohan as a baby! What does she need??"

"What this baby needs," she jumped up, "is a good bath, diapers, new clothes, and lots and lots of milk." She headed to the door that led to the garage and took her car keys. "I'm going out to buy these things. I'll be back in about an hour if this rain allows me." She took off the apron she was wearing and opened the door. But, before leaving, she turned around and, pointing the key at me in her typical authoritarian way, said, "You've got to get a driver's license urgently. Just because you know how to fly doesn't mean you should neglect these matters."

"Y-Y-Yes, ma'am!" I almost saluted her as if we were in the Army.

"Be right back." Chi-chi then gave me a little friendly smile. "Try to calm yourself down. Focus on the baby's well-being. She needs you to convey security." And she walked out the door.

It was the longest hour I've ever waited. Not even when we waited for Goku's return during those three hours in the battle against the Saiyans did I feel time pass so slowly.

Even though I love children, I have never needed to take care of a baby in my entire life. I felt like a complete idiot to find myself responsible for someone so small from one moment to the next.

However, I had noticed that the baby liked being snuggled against my neck during the flight, in a skin-to-skin contact. So, as soon as Chi-chi left, I carefully put her back in that position, stroking her back and rocking her slowly until her cries went down and, finally, ended.

The baby slept. I couldn't even breathe a sigh of relief, because I was afraid she would wake up again. However, as the minutes passed, I allowed myself to relax, especially after reflecting on my sister-in-law's words that the baby needed me to give her security. Being tense wouldn't help at all.

I'm not going to lie and say that I didn't like being there, cuddling her. As part of my biggest dream, I always imagined what it would be like to have a baby in my arms. And now, I got a taste of that feeling.

It was so, so good…

The contact with that little baby brought me such wonderful peace…

My mind wandered to Piccolo. For the first time, thinking about him didn't bring me pain, but rather comfort. For some reason, I imagined him there next to me. What would he say if he saw me in that situation? Despite his serious and closed manner, I knew his heart; I had witnessed his transformation during that year we spent together.

Something inside me said he would be as worried about that baby as I was. And it brought me profound… joy.

Almost close to the time for Chi-chi to return, the baby woke up, but didn't cry. She just kept making some grunts typical of babies of that age. Gently, I placed her lying on my legs again and analyzed every detail of her round face.

"Hello, Naíma..." I smiled affectionately, finally saying her name out loud; the name her biological mother wrote on the note still folded in my pocket.

Her rosy cheeks contrasted with her fair skin. Long black strands emerged from her scalp, now disheveled due to all the inconvenience she had suffered. Slowly, I ran my fingers through her hair to comb it, the same way I did countless times with Gohan. I bet he would also be worried about her if he were here…

It was then that I noticed her eyes, which were looking around with great curiosity. They were black, small, and intense. My heart once more skipped a beat when I realized that they reminded me a lot of… Piccolo's eyes.

When I looked closely at those little black eyes, which were now gazing deeply at me, I felt swept away by all the moments that Piccolo's eyes met mine during the time we spent together.

A tear ran down my face. It was as if I could see him through Naíma's eyes; as if I could fulfill the longing that consumed me so much due to his absence.

A silly thought occurred to me. An intimate thought, but one that expressed a desire that I kept in my heart.

If Piccolo hadn't died and we had stayed together, would it be that... if one day we had a daughter, would she look like this baby I now held in my arms?

I don't deny that I've spent a lot of time over the last few months fantasizing about what our children would look like. Would they be born looking like me or him? Would the skin be the same as mine or a greenish tone like his? Would a baby be born with the physical aspects of a Saiyan or a Namekian?

There were so many possibilities…

But death took them all from me.

However, when I looked at Naíma, I saw one of these possibilities in her.

I shook my head. What was I thinking? Piccolo was dead. Forget those fantasies!

My internal discussion was interrupted by the arrival of Chi-chi, loaded with grocery bags.

In five minutes, she had already put water to heat and found the plastic bathtub she used when Gohan was a baby at the bottom of the wardrobe. So we began our task of cleaning up that poor baby. Unfortunately, Naíma was quite dirty.

With a patience that even surprised me, Chi-chi guided me on how to bathe a baby that size, in a way that wouldn't scare her and would be a relaxing moment.

I was so frightened of dropping her. It felt like I was holding a tiny thing made of crystal that could break at any moment.

"You have a knack for this." She smiled by seeing how carefully I was when cleaning the area of the umbilical cord that had not yet fallen off. That fact only showed that Naíma should only be a few days old.

After the bath, following Chi-chi's instructions, I wrapped her in a soft towel and placed her on Gohan's bed to dry her delicately, trying to talk to her softly and gently so that she wouldn't be scared by all those new textures on her body.

Naíma didn't enjoy putting on the new clothes that Chi-chi bought, as she needed to practically twist herself to get dressed. But we survived. In fact, I was impressed by how quiet she was. Even going through everything she had been in the last few hours, Naíma just cried during that period before falling asleep snuggled against my neck.

It was already dark when I finished dressing her. When I picked her up again, Naíma instinctively looked for my breast.

"Hey, little one..." I chuckled, caressing her cheeks. "There's no milk here."

"Come." Chi-chi laughed along. "I'll teach you how to prepare the formula. She must be starving."

I watched my sister-in-law prepare the milk and pour it into a new bottle that she bought. Soon, Naíma was sucking the entire milk with a voracious appetite.

"Poor thing…" whimpered Chi-chi next to us on the couch. "How long has it been since she last ate…"

"What now?" I showed a distressed expression, watching Naíma finish the second bottle. "What must I do?"

"Well..." Chi-chi shrugged, pressing her lips together. "You were the one who found her. It's your right to decide her fate."

What about Naíma's rights? What did she want?

Or rather, what did she need?

Her deep breath filled the space between us. She had fallen asleep, her tiny hands clinging to my clothes with impressive strength.

I smiled tenderly. "You're not a Saiyan, but you're strong like one."

There was Naíma. Clean, warm, fed and snuggled. That was what she needed. That was what every baby needed.

I raised my head to Chi-chi and said, "I'll take her with me, until..." I paused for a moment. "Until I get my head straight and think about the next step."

"But what about your classes?" asked Chi-chi.

I thought for a moment and replied, "Tomorrow is Sunday. I believe I can go to the villages and farms to tell my students that I'll take a week off. I think it's enough for Naíma to recover well and... for me to make a decision." I clicked my tongue. "Dang it, but I can't take her with me... It'll be a quite tiring task."

"Leave her with me," assured my sister-in-law. "I'll come over to your house tomorrow while you do this."

"A-Are you sure?" I worried. "You already do a lot for me, Chi-chi... More than I could imagine! I don't want to take advantage of your good will–"

"Stop it." She raised her hand and I obeyed promptly. "It'll be a pleasure to help. We're family and you have been a great company for me these past few months. Also…" She glanced at the kitchen drawer in which I knew she kept her antidepressants. "The presence of a baby will do me a lot of good."

We exchanged a look of mutual understanding and I accepted her help.

"Very well, then." Chi-chi got up." Since that's the case, I think your next step is to get a stroller." She chuckled. "Or are you going to put her in Gohan's bed at your house? Hang in there, I'll go get his old stroller. It must be stored in a closet in the garage…"

An hour later, Chi-chi was giving me a ride and dropped me off in front of my house. The moon shone high in the sky as we unloaded Gohan's stroller and all the shopping she had made at the market. From the porch, lit by the yellow sconces on the walls, we said goodbye and I watched her return to the car. Naíma was still sleeping in my arms.

"Do you want one last piece of advice?" Chi-chi turned to me before entering the driver's side. "Sleep while she sleeps. You'll thank me later."

"You're the best sister-in-law in the world," I replied in a soft tone and gave her a smile. "See you tomorrow."

And so, Naíma and I were left alone, with only the sounds of crickets and cicadas overlapping the nighttime silence of my house.

We had a relatively peaceful night for a woman like me, who had never had the experience of caring for a baby all by myself. I placed Naíma in the stroller next to my bed and she only woke up once to feed and slept the rest of the night. I myself couldn't sleep at all. I checked on her every two minutes and I couldn't stop thinking about that, if I hadn't left the house earlier that day, she could have died from the storm.

Chi-chi's words couldn't get out of my head either, "It's like it was meant to be..."

Was it true? Was I compelled to leave the house at that exact time, stop on that dirt road and cry for missing Piccolo just so I could find Naíma before it was too late?

Why did my heart burn every time I checked her sleeping there, next to me? Why did I experience the same feeling I have for Gohan when I cuddled him to my chest back in our Training?

And why did I think of Piccolo when our eyes met?

I didn't have the answer to any of those questions, I just heard Naíma's soft breathing sleeping in the stroller.

When I blinked, a week had passed since I found her. My house had been turned upside down. Not in the bad sense of the word, but little by little, Naíma's presence took over every corner of my home. Her clean clothes were folded in one corner, packages of diapers organized in another, cans of formula stacked by expiration date, bottles, blankets, toys and more were scattered all over the place.

Chi-chi had to take care of her when, for the second time, I had to tell my students that I was taking another week off due to a family emergency.

During the time we spent together, I didn't have a single episode of my PTSD, and the pain I felt when I thought about Piccolo was soon replaced by a pleasant longing every time I looked at Naíma and saw him reflected in her.

We were joined at the hip. We shared a common past, a common origin. A force beyond my understanding did not allow us to be apart for even a second. We woke up together, ate together, played together, bathed together and slept together. An almost urgent urge surrounded us, as if we could no longer be without the other's company.

It came to a point where I asked myself how I managed to live my entire life without Naíma's presence. She was the most calm and affectionate baby in the world. It was rare to see her cry and, when she did, it was a low, soft cry, the kind you even enjoy listening to because it was so cute. Poor thing.

Chi-chi often came to visit us, after all, it was much better to stay with us than to be alone at home missing her husband and son. As always, she taught me a lot through her motherhood experience, and I came to the conclusion that my sister-in-law was not a bad mother. Her paranoia about Gohan's studies was a reflection of something deeper, and I believe my brother was partly to blame for that, unfortunately.

However, Chi-chi's presence in my house also brought a reality that, deep down, I was avoiding at all costs.

"So?" She looked at me in a serious and worried way, on a Saturday afternoon. "Have you made your decision about what you will do with her? It's been two weeks since you found her."

We were sitting on the couch, and I was feeding Naíma in my arms. Unable to face her, I looked away and remained silent, focusing on Naíma. Only in Naíma.

"Lettie, look at me," she asked, and I obeyed. "Why haven't you taken her to an orphanage yet?"

Silence fell again. My eyes burned.

"I'm getting worried about you," she continued. "There must be a reason."

I swallowed bitter saliva, gazed at Naíma and finally confessed in a whisper, "She reminds me of Piccolo."

Chi-chi's worried expression worsened. By now, she had become my friend enough to know everything that happened during the year we spent together in Training, and about my feelings towards Piccolo. At least, upon discovering all of his transformation and repentance, she had put aside all the prejudice she had against Goku's former enemy. Especially when she learned the details of how he sacrificed himself to give his life for me and Gohan.

"Oh, Lettie..." She patted my arm when she saw that I couldn't contain my tears any longer.

"P-Please..." I begged, holding my sobs. "Let me think a little more…"

Chi-chi studied us for a moment with a compassionate expression, and finally nodded in agreement, sighing with sadness. After a while, she said goodbye and left.

That night, as usual, I took a bath with Naíma in the bathtub in my suite. I was supporting her on my legs, wetting her hair with the handheld shower. I couldn't even talk or play with her, like I used to. A big lump was forming in my throat.

I thought about the matter of giving her to an orphanage. However, the feeling I had was that if I did that, I would be the one abandoning her. It was unthinkable for me, to hand her over as if she were a mere object, after all the time we spent together, creating a connection as true as my Saiyan heritage. Besides, who would guarantee that she would have a good future? Who would guarantee that someone good would adopt her and give her the life she deserved?

What if she ended up like me? Abandoned on the streets, starving and having to support herself in a place full of disgusting people?

No. I couldn't do that.

My meeting with her could not have been by chance. The voice that made me leave the house that cloudy day was too clear to have been an illusion in my head.

As if confirming my words, the same soft, gentle voice returned to my heart and said, "She's yours."

I gazed at Naíma there with me in that warm bathtub, feeling a tingling throughout my body upon hearing that powerful voice once again.

In response, Naíma smiled at me. A big, toothless smile, with its small, intense, black eyes piercing my soul like a double-edged sword.

It was impossible to bear any more. With the same care and affection that I had treated her since I met her, I brought Naíma to me, cradling her on my neck, and I cried.

Naíma was mine. My baby. I went to her and she came to me, as if the heavens sent me a little piece of Piccolo that I needed so much to keep here, with me.

Yes. I have made my decision. I would adopt Naíma and she would be the daughter that Piccolo and I never had the chance to have.