A firm knock on the bedroom door startled Gohan out of a daydream. "Gohan," his mother called, "I brought you a snack to help you study. I'm coming in, okay?" He rubbed at his eyes and stared at the papers in front of him, all of them littered with doodles of dragons and giant fish and spaceships. Not a single one of his math problems were finished. The door opened just as he slid the heavy textbook over the pages.

"O-oh, hey, mom," he said, trying to sound casual.

Chi-Chi set carrot sticks and a glass of juice on the desk and stroked her son's hair. "Getting long again," she said with a sigh. "I'll find the shears and give you a cut before your bath tonight."

Gohan groaned and slouched in his chair. "But mom, I like my hair this way."

"You look so handsome when I cut it, though," she said, already snipping at the black strands with her middle and index fingers. "I know you didn't like the haircut I gave you before you left for Namek, but I'll give you a cool one this time. I promise."

Gohan had a suspicion that his mother's definition of cool wasn't going to be the same as his own, but after a resigned huff he said, "Sure, okay."

"So how's the schoolwork coming?" she asked. She moved before he could react, lifting the text book to reveal his hours worth of drawings. Gohan simply stared at the papers, preparing himself for the verbal onslaught. "WHAT IS THIS? Have you been neglecting your studies all afternoon? Gohan? Look at me! This is the third time this week you've slacked off like this, Gohan. What do I have to do to get you to care about your education, huh? Well?"

She caught a glimpse of Piccolo through the window as he took a seat beneath a tree in the front yard and waited for his pupil.

"You want to end up like him?" she continued to scream. "Some good-for-nothing hoodlum who might as well be a beggar? Who has no marketable skills? How much money do you think Piccolo makes in a year? I'll tell you – zero. He's dirt poor and he comes over here expecting a roof over his head and food on his plate. Well I'll tell you something—"

"Piccolo doesn't eat," said Gohan. "He drinks water."

But Chi-Chi didn't skip a beat. "And who pays the water bill for the water he drinks? We do, that's who! Nothing but trouble and inconsideration, Gohan. I don't know what you see in him but I hope you grow out of it soon. He's a bad influence."

"He's not, mom, really. You just gotta get to know him."

"I'd rather get to know a slug. A spider. Anything but him." She slammed her palm down on the math book and put a pencil in Gohan's hand. "You're finishing all of these problems before training with Piccolo, understand? I don't care if it's dark out by the time you're done."

Gohan nodded bleakly and Chi-Chi left, shutting the door forcefully behind her. He supposed he did bring it on himself, allowing his mind to drift off and get distracted. But ever since returning from Namek, things like schoolwork and studying seemed insignificant, meaningless. All he wanted to do was train his body, train to fight so he could help more effectively when the next threat arrived.

Piccolo lifted his chin and gave Gohan a questioning glance, but Gohan shook his head and pointed to his text book. The Namek rose to his feet and came to the window, leaning against the sill. "No training yet?" he asked, knowing full well there wasn't. It wasn't hard to hear Chi-Chi, especially with his ears.

"Not until I do my math problems."

"Gohan, you and I both know this is more important. Your father still hasn't returned yet. Vegeta is gone. You may just be the most potentially powerful person on Earth." Piccolo's eyes narrowed. "You need more training."

"I know I do, but my mom—"

"She can wait. If she takes issue with it, I'll talk to her."

Relieved that someone else might shoulder some of his mother's anger, Gohan hopped up from the desk and threw off his school jacket and trousers. He'd made himself another gi as soon as he got home from space, and this one was even better-sewn than the last. He tugged it on and turned to Piccolo for approval, posing with fists at his waist. "Do you like it?"

Piccolo smirked. "You're dressed like me, kid. What's not to like?"

.

.

The moon was out and bright by the time training ended for the day. Gohan couldn't help feeling a bit nostalgic for the year he'd spent exclusively under Piccolo's guidance. Every night sitting together by the campfire had been so peaceful—and even though his mother and father had been absent, in their place was a strange new friend and a blossoming sense of pride he'd never felt in himself before.

If schoolwork ever gave him the same feeling, perhaps his mother would be happier with him.

"She might be asleep already," said Gohan just outside the back door. "I kinda hope so. I don't wanna get yelled at."

Piccolo put a hand on the kid's shoulder. "I'm coming in with you, remember? Open the door."

They slunk into the house and found the living room lamp still on. Chi-Chi sat on the sofa, mending a seam in one of Gohan's shirts. "Did you come home late because you thought I'd be in bed?" she asked. She didn't take her eyes off her sewing.

"M-Mom, I can explain what happened, I just—"

"I persuaded him to come with me." Piccolo stepped between them, his impressive shape blocking the lamplight. Chi-Chi put the shirt in her lap and glared up at him.

"Just where do you get off undermining—" She stopped, relaxed her fists, took a deep breath. "Well, it doesn't matter now. Since Gohan obviously is having trouble focusing on his studies, and I can't hover over him all hours of the day, I've come up with a plan."

Gohan peered around Piccolo's cape. "What do you mean, mom? What plan?"

"Oh, you'll see." Chi-Chi seemed rather pleased with herself and crossed her arms over her chest. "Tomorrow afternoon."

.

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A clunky blue car pulled up to the Son house around noon. Chi-Chi was positively glowing with excitement as she leapt up to answer the doorbell. Gohan leaned back in his chair at the kitchen table to better see who was on the front porch. "You're here!" said Chi-Chi. "Thank you for agreeing to come at such short notice, but you're sorely needed. Please, please, come in!"

As his mother moved away from the door, an unfamiliar woman entered the house. She dressed casual and young like a high school student, though she must have been at least a couple years older than that if she was teaching professionally.

"Gohan, this is Miss Hana," said Chi-Chi. "She's going to be your tutor."

"Tutor?" Gohan got up from the table so he could bow properly. The woman, Hana, bowed back, brown hair spilling over her shoulders. And when she straightened up again and got a good look at her student's face, she lit up with a gasp.

"It's you!" She grabbed his hand in hers and shook him so enthusiastically that he nearly bounced. "I recognize you from the TV! You were there fighting those awful aliens that attacked the city, right? That was amazing. I couldn't believe how brave you were."

Gohan went a little pink. "Wow, thank you!"

Chi-Chi cleared her throat and fixed the two of them with an accusatory stare. "Miss Hana, I've hired you specifically to keep my son's attentions on his schooling instead of martial arts."

This time Hana bowed to her employer as deeply as she could muster. "I apologize. We'll get started right away." She turned to Gohan and slid her thumbs under the straps of her backpack. "I brought a lot of books with me, so I hope you're ready to learn. I'm certainly ready to teach."

"That's what I like to hear," said Chi-Chi. "Get started right away, you two. Hana, Gohan's room is just down the hall on your left. Work hard, okay? And in a couple hours I'll bring in some lunch."

"How kind of you, Miss Chi-Chi, thank you," said Hana. She laid a hand gently on Gohan's shoulder and led him down the hall and into the bedroom. "So, where would you like to set up?" She dumped the backpack from her shoulders and it hit the carpet with a floor-shaking thud. "And what would you like to start with? Biology? Math? Grammar?"

Gohan approached the backpack and peeked inside. "You mean you don't have a set lesson?" he asked.

"Nope. I think it works out better if the student does the dictating over what they learn and how they learn it."

He laughed a little. "Are you sure my mom hired you?"

She laughed too. "Aw, your mom's a walk in the park compared to some other mothers I've worked for."

"Really?" Gohan almost couldn't imagine mothers more demanding and overbearing than his own. "How many other kids have you taught?"

Hana thought for a second while counting on her fingers. "Well, I started tutoring right out of high school and kept going through college, so, let's see…ah, six. And you make seven. Lucky number seven!"

Gohan settled on grammar for the afternoon and they spent the better part of the lesson making up silly sentences and correcting them for spelling and punctuation. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had so much fun with a text book present.

After lunch and a refresher course on nouns, adjectives, and verbs, Hana noticed Gohan's eyes routinely sweeping to the open window. "Y'know, I realize this is mostly stuff you know and it's kinda boring, but it's good to stay sharp," she said.

"Oh, sorry, it's not that." He looked at his watch. "It's just that it's almost time for Mr. Piccolo to come and get me."

Hana wasn't exactly sure what that meant. "And Mr. Piccolo is…a real person?"

"Of course," Gohan said with a chuckle. "My mom didn't mention him?"

"Nope." Now she was curious if the omission was intentional.

"We train together. I'm gonna grow up and be the strongest fighter in the world just like my dad, and he's helping me."

Hana leaned in closer to him. She wanted to ask this as delicately as she could. "Where is your dad, anyway, Gohan? What happened to him?"

"Oh, he's still in outer space somewhere," was Gohan's casual reply. "We all had to fight someone really strong on a planet called Namek, and when the planet blew up he escaped the explosion and now he's on a different planet. I hope when he comes home he'll show me all the new moves he learned!"

Hana had way too many questions now. Why had they been on Namek? Who did they fight? How did Namek explode? How did Gohan know his dad was in space and not just dead? She knew better than to ask the latter, but the others had her imagination racing. The memory of Chi-Chi's death-glare, however, kept her from inquiring.

The sunlight disappeared from the room. Hana swiveled the chair towards the window and was met with an unfamiliar face. An unfamiliar…green face. The broad-shouldered figure stood there silently, blocking the sun. Hana couldn't help staring at his turban and his flowing cape that caught the afternoon breeze. She wondered if he knew how menacing he looked. Of course he must have. Still, there was something awfully familiar about him.

"Mr. Piccolo, you're here!" Gohan hopped up and went for the purple gi already laid out on his bed. "Gimme just a sec, Mr. Piccolo, and I'll be right there."

"Wait, I recognize you," said Hana suddenly. "You were on TV fighting those aliens, too. Yeah, yeah, I definitely remember you."

"Gohan, who is this?" Piccolo asked, directing his question over her head.

"That's Miss Hana," Gohan replied. He tied the sash around his middle and slipped on a little pair of soft brown boots. "She's my new tutor."

Piccolo scowled and exhaled hard for added emphasis. "So that's Chi-Chi's plan, huh." He turned his back to the window. "Well, it's of no consequence. Let's get going, Gohan. We need to reach the valley before the sun gets much lower."

"Yes, sir!"

"No, stop!" said Hana, putting out her palms to keep her student from leaving. "You can't go now. We're not finished with today's grammar lesson yet."

"Grammar?" Piccolo whirled on her in anger, earning a startled cry. He slammed his hands down on the window sill and threw his imposing upper bulk into the bedroom. "If you saw the broadcast of our battle with the Saiyans, then you know just how important it is that we have capable people protecting this planet at all times. Right now, our greatest chance against a possible threat is lightyears away, and I refuse to just sit idly by and wait for his return. Gohan must be trained."

Hana stood and slammed her own hands against the desk. "I understand that, it's just that I need to—to—" Her voice faltered as she felt her pulse thudding with panic in her chest. And Piccolo's unflinching stare wasn't letting up. "L-Look, sparring with you and avoiding schoolwork isn't going to help Gohan in the long run. He's a child. He needs an education."

"That's not my concern." Piccolo remained there, unmoving, arms folded in front of his chest. Hana might as well have been trying to argue with a slab of concrete. At least the concrete wouldn't have been as frightening.

She attempted a different approach. "Please," she said. "I'm a teacher. Let me teach my student. And after I'm done, which will be soon, I'll be more than happy to allow you both to train together."

Gohan nodded. "I suppose we can do th—"

"No. Let's go, Gohan. Now."

Hana grit her teeth. She'd never met anyone so stubborn in her life. Was he refusing to listen to reason on purpose? Had she done something to offend him already and this was his means of striking back? It just didn't make sense. But she had one more idea.

"You care for Gohan, don't you?" she asked.

Piccolo didn't uncross his arms, but something in his irritated expression seemed to soften. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm sure you do," Hana continued. "It's clear you've been Gohan's master for quite some time. He even has a gi that matches yours. You can't stand there and tell me you don't have any affection for the boy."

This got much more of a reaction. A dark pink blush bloomed in the tips of Piccolo's ears just before he turned his back to the window. "What business is that of yours, anyway?" he snapped. "And for the record, I don't have 'affection' for anyone. He's my student. That's it."

Hana looked to Gohan, hoping that Piccolo's words hadn't upset him. But the boy just grinned and shrugged his shoulders as if to say that's just how his master was.

"He's your student," said Hana. "That's exactly it. Now he's my student, too. I want him to grow up and have opportunities at his disposal. He can't fight all the time. He can't train all the time."

"Why not? That's how I live."

"And that's what you want for Gohan, too? Or don't you want him to become something better?"

For a few seconds there was nothing but the sound of papers fluttering on the desk. Hana's stomach tied itself into a series of elaborate knots as she anticipated more anger. At last Piccolo faced her again, but his expression was a mask of restraint. A wealth of unspoken curses clawed and chewed just behind pursed lips. "Twenty minutes," he said. "But that's it."

Hana heard him muttering under his breath as he left to sit beneath a tree and wait. Her knees finally buckled and she collapsed into her chair.

"Are you okay?" Gohan asked. "I know Piccolo can be a little intimidating."

Hana grumbled but tried to sound amused. "A little?"

"Well…"

She opened her notebook, ignoring how her fingers were shaking. "C'mon, we've got twenty minutes. Let's make 'em count."

.

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Thanks a bunch for reading - I appreciate it! Chapter 2 coming shortly.