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The summer day had been very productive for them, most of the day spent beginning the pickings of their few fruit trees and jarring preserves. Their fruit trees weren't made for wholesale crop production as their rice usually was, nor were they typically for the local farmer's market, although on occasion the four of them would sell at a shoddy booth when they felt like they had too much of a good thing. As it was, the earlier part of the day was spent picking the basketfuls of fruit and starting the long, tedious process of canning.
Pu'ar, in fact, had been quite keen on helping pick fruit, her small and delicate stature making it quite easy to sweep between the branches of the tree and yank a good fruit off. Of course, every now and again she would accidentally tumble backwards with the force of her pulling, and a few apricots would end up bruised. She would cry about it for a minute in her disappointment, but Yamcha would give her a few quiet, reassuring words and scritches behind her ear and she'd be alright. Tien and Chiaotzu always appreciated her willingness to help.
So far, they had made well over twenty jars of perfectly-sealed jam, ready for the cellar or perhaps Chichi and Bulma's kitchen pantry should they like some. God knew they'd have a million more by the end of the season.
The old gas stove in the kitchen had been turned off, but the cooking was still long being done. The rice maker was steaming pleasantly in the evening light, Chiaotzu preparing a quick meal of rice, tofu, and a side of some potent chili crisp they had still stored in their fridge. Something quick after the work they've done- Tien and Pu'ar, after all, were still finishing up some last-minute picking of one of the farther off fruit trees.
Yamcha pulled some dishes out of the wooden cabinet, the small bowls decorated with light blue fish across the edges. He carried them in his hands, sat them on the table with a gentle clank, exhaling quietly as he walked back into the kitchen, grabbing some chopsticks out of the disposable set they had of them. Glancing out of the window, he saw Tien and Pu'ar talking about something, Pu'ar happily grinning about whatever it was she was talking about. Yamcha snickered, shaking his head.
Chiaotzu glanced over with a smile. "Everything alright?"
Yamcha laughed a little, sighing as he moved over to the table. "Yeah. I think Pu'ar is talkin' Tien's ear off out there."
Chiaotzu giggled. "Tien's always in his element out there. I doubt he minds the company."
Yamcha smiled, placing a pair of chopsticks at four different spots at the table, nodding at all of the bowls' placements as he proceeded to open a screened window by the dining room. It was gorgeous outside, after all, and some fresh air wouldn't hurt anybody. "Sometimes," Yamcha said, "I still am.. amazed at how quiet things have turned out around here. We all really used to be some loud and crazy people, and now we just.. y'know, eat dinner at home, sleep by ten, and get up in the morning to plow fields and harvest crops."
".. For once, Tien can give life instead of taking it," Chiaotzu said quietly, peeling off the skin of an apricot. "That's why he likes it." Yamcha blinked at this, walking quietly over to the kitchen and getting some glasses and some plum wine from the cabinet, some juice for Pu'ar. He peered out of the kitchen window into the small area of an orchard.
Tien stood a ways into the distance, picking heavy apricots from the tree in the evening light. In the warmth of the summer's evening heat, Yamcha could see some of the larger scars upon his bare arms, the blank yet focused stare of Tien's eyes as he worked towards his goal. ".. Does he still think of himself as a murderer?" Yamcha asked quietly, eyes not leaving his partner.
Chiaotzu turned to him, eyes lined with something between pity and loss. ".. Well, we both were."
Chiaotzu turned back, his hands holding his paring knife and continuing to peel the apricot, juicy in his fingers.
"We had killed people. It-... It isn't an adjective that can change. It was in our past. We have both participated in the ending of a life that was no different than yours. We-.. We didn't have a choice, but we both still felt the blood on our hands," Chiaotzu explained, voice weary even though it still held the youthful air of a child. Yamcha felt like this made it worse. ".. I'm over it enough, but it still gets me every now and again. Tien.. Tien sometimes thinks that he doesn't deserve this happy life because of it."
Yamcha frowned, eyebrows furrowed, and looked at the kitchen sink that was still filled with jammy pots and pans. He sighed quietly. ".. I don't think anyone deserves anything. Bad men have good things happen to them, and good men have bad things happen to them. If God, or Kami, or whoever the hell, keeps track of all that shit," Yamcha started, leaning against the counter to watch his partner, "then they've got a lot of apologies to make."
Chiaotzu sighed quietly, placing the peeled apricot into a small bowl at his side. ".. I've wondered what kind of God could put Tien and I into the place we were in," he quietly said. He chuckled, a small, young thing. "What kind of God hates mere children so much as to.. as to do this to them?"
Yamcha felt his lungs compress, a strange, sad feeling that reminded him of the days where he lived alone, where he was not even a child when he became a nomad out of force. He recalled the days where he had his bag, his clothes and boots, and a shimmering Glock in the desert sun- all the only things to his name.
Remembering the child he used to be, half parched in the baking sands and keeled over, Yamcha could only mutter, "None of mine."
Autumn was a swirl of warm memories, grass descending into a bit of a dull olive in the waning sun, cooling air. The trees had begin flickering in shades of orange around September, the last bits of harvest coming to a fine close. All in all, they were able to secure the farm for another year and had enough profit to where they could keep it moving.
Gohan came around one evening, the beginnings of adulthood starting to show in his face. It wasn't often he saw the kid around here, and in all honesty, all of them missed the boy. Things had been quiet since Cell, since his father had disappeared into heaven to.. do whatever he did.
Tien had looked away in distaste as he poured some wine into cups, knowing Goten was growing bigger and bigger by the day.
Tonight's dish was fried rice with chilis and chicken thigh, broccoli in chili oil, and a small serving of chicken egg drop soup. Yamcha could sense that both Tien and Chiaotzu felt disappointed in not knowing beforehand, as otherwise they would have made a much more extravagant meal for their guest. Pu'ar had to reassure them in the sweet way she always did that they were fine, Gohan was here for them and not some food, until they both settled down.
Gohan, even though nearly a year had passed since they saw him last, was still as polite and well educated as ever. He was even going to high school, the brat.
"You keepin' up on your homework?" Yamcha asked, realizing how much of a dad he sounded like but ignoring the feeling anyway.
Gohan nodded, snorting. "Of course I have! Mom's always on me about getting as good of grades as I can, especially since the world isn't falling apart. She'd kick my butt if my grades slipped."
Chiaotzu nodded in approval, scooping the fried rice into his bowl. "You're a smart kid, Gohan," he said, voice far younger than Gohan's but still having the authority of pride, "Don't waste that talent, okay?"
Gohan nodded, blushing a little. "Thank you. I appreciate it a lot."
Tien looked over at Gohan. "Are you going to university?" None of them knew much about the college experience, but even so, they knew how important it was to the boy. Gohan's eyes lit up a little.
"I want to," Gohan said with a smile, "but I'm not sure exactly what, yet. Mom says I would be a good doctor, or maybe a researcher of medical studies."
Yamcha hummed in thought. "You certainly have seen enough blood 'n guts to fill that department, I'd say. 'Good at handling pressure, too," he said, startling at the swat that Tien gave to his chest lightly. Yamcha looked over, Tien giving a hard look that said not dinner conversation, moron.
Gohan kindly appeared to ignore it, brushing along as he took a big bite of fried rice. Just like his daddy. "Well, that was kind of the reason. The human body really is interesting, y'know," he said, taking another bite of rice and swallowing. "Mr. Piccolo says that I could be a real source of help for the people of Earth, and I wouldn't even have to fight to do it. It seems.. kinda nice, y'know?"
Tien nodded in approval. "You've always been ready to help. I bet anyone would be glad to have you as a doctor, and even more thankful to have you as a student. I could.. try to supply knowledge to you from what I remember from days as a student."
Gohan blinked at him, surprised. ".. With medical stuff?"
Tien glanced back at him. "Yes. Part of my instruction required.. understanding injuries of the human body, and to some extent we learned the specifics of anatomy."
"Vertebral column, organ locations, major arteries.." Chiaotzu contributed, Tien nodding in affirmation.
Yamcha blinked a bit and ate some more food, invested in this conversation. He knew Tien had some experience with the human body, but he never really knew what his instruction was like asides from these men are murderers.
Tien scratched his neck a little bit. "That said, I don't know how recent my knowledge is, nor if your school wants information from an old man like me. You might be better off just reading those textbooks you've lugged around."
"You know," Gohan said, eating his rice with a polite little look in his eyes, "You'd make a good teacher, Tien."
Tien blinked, looking at the kid. ".. With medical stuff?" he echoed.
Gohan smiled, shrugging. "Well, I guess medical stuff, but maybe fighting, too. You know a lot from your time as a fighter, and you have the mental strength to do it, too. You have valuable information to pass on."
Tien glanced helplessly at Yamcha. Yamcha smiled, shrugging. "The kid ain't wrong, buddy. You could probably teach these new kids how to hold their own. Damn brats, not havin' to break legs all the time."
Tien kicked him under the table, Yamcha snickering and wincing at the same time. Chiaotzu rolled his eyes, and Gohan suppressed a surprised snicker. ".. I never really considered being a teacher of martial arts," Tien started, continuing to eat his soup. "My teachers were not very good people, and.. I suppose I'd worry I'd just be teaching their bad karma to some helpless teenagers."
Gohan blinked at him. ".. Well, you're not bad. Not bad at all," he said, glancing back down at his rice and eating a mouthful, reaching for his drink. "You've proven yourself better than anything your old folks did. I've seen your name all over the place in my history textbooks, but I don't think I've even heard of them."
Tien felt his face go red a bit, Yamcha smiling and popping a final chunk of broccoli into his mouth and standing up from his seat.
"Let me pull out some of the fruit preserves from the cellar. This kid's about as sweet as 'em, anyway," Yamcha said with a smile, Gohan shyly chuckling as he put his head in his hand.
"Oh, don't embarrass the boy," Tien started, Yamcha smiling as he left the room.
He really did miss Gohan.
The cold air threatened to freeze Yamcha's nose off, burned through his cheeks like red-scrubbed marks. The sun had already dipped below the skyline, and waves of gray clouds followed it like a haze through the frigid, slate-darkening sky. It was becoming dark, now. The blizzard would arrive soon.
Yamcha lugged a large sack of wood through the snow, a slowed trail following- in the case the power cut, they'd at least have enough firewood to last the night. Tien's farmhouse was fairly used to power cuts in their side of the country, and this certainly wouldn't be a fun time to have one. The cold snow crunched under his feet, and upon walking across a mild hill, he eventually arrived at a covered shed where he tossed the firewood into. Yamcha smiled at his handiwork, eventually pausing to sneeze into his coat and shivered. He walked back to the front of the house.
Walking in felt like jumping into a desert compared to the temperature outside. The lights were on, a few candles and lanterns lit, and the smell of sesame, chilies, and onions wafted from across the kitchen to his right. Yamcha found Tien pulling out a propane-fueled tabletop stove from a creaky cupboard near the stove. Tien looked back to face him before chuckling, taking out the heating unit and shutting the cabinet door.
"About time you showed up. 'Wondered if you froze out there," Tien said, an audible smirk in his voice.
Yamcha snorted, taking off his coat and hanging it by the hooks on the door. "Oh, you bet. Last thing we need now is me as a popsicle."
Tien laughed quietly, shaking his head as he made his way to the kitchen table and placed the portable gas stovetop onto the large kitchen table. He attached a metal propane can to the side, an audible clank as he attached it properly. Chiaotzu floated in from the wooden stairwell and peeked around the kitchen.
Yamcha sighed as he began unlacing his boots, finally getting comfortable after removing his heavy winter coat. His faded jeans were stained slightly from the water off of his boots, but he would ignore it for now. All he could be thankful for was that his sweater underneath his coat was warm enough to not get frostbite out there.
"Hi, Yamcha," Chiaotzu said from the kitchen, beginning to pull a packet of hot pot starter out of the kitchen cupboard.
"Hey, buddy," Yamcha said, yanking off his other boot a little too hard and nearly falling flat on his back. Tien laughed again from the dining room.
Yamcha blew a raspberry, mildly annoyed but letting it slide at the dumb smirk on his partner's face, as he stood and walked over. His socks padded quietly across the hardwood, peering at the dinner table's choice.
The hotpot tonight looked like it was a bit of leftovers- a small bowl of chopped up green onions, enough dipping chilis to feed an army, some chopped up lotus roots, and a plateful of sliced carrots. Yamcha peeked at the kitchen counter a ways away and saw a slab of uncooked pork. "Want me to slice it up?" Yamcha asked, glancing back to Tien fiddling with the portable stove, flicking it on and watching as the flame ignited.
"If you'd like. Don't cut it too thick this time," Tien chided, Yamcha rolling his eyes and patting a hand onto the wood table.
"Oh, get over it, pal, I did it once," Yamcha replied, waving his hand as he made his way to the kitchen.
"Are you talking about the first time you did that, or the last time?" Chiaotzu added softly, smiling in mischief as Yamcha slowly turned to look at him in fake annoyance. Chiaotzu giggled before floating away, tossing the packet of hotpot mix onto the counter where Yamcha was. "I'm gonna get Pu'ar."
Yamcha smiled, grabbing a butcher's knife from the kitchen drawer, and began slicing the half-thawed pork belly as thinly as he could.
Tien eventually was satisfied with his work, moving back into the kitchen and grabbing a large pot. Yamcha heard water running for a moment before he felt a large hand on his shoulder, gentle.
"You didn't actually get frostbite, right?" Tien asked quietly from beside him, Yamcha chuckling. He sliced the pork a bit too thin on one end, deciding to try better on the next slice.
"I'm alright. Don't worry," Yamcha said, amused. He ignored the faint blush of getting attention rising on his cheeks. "I'm too good for that."
Tien nodded, watching him cut for a moment. "We shouldn't need the firewood, but if we do, I'll go get it."
Yamcha snickered, feeling suddenly mischievous. "Y'know, we could keep warm some other way, pal," he muttered quietly, elbowing Tien's stomach.
Tien startled and went red, batting his shoulder with a hard smack. "Don't say things like that!"
Yamcha winced playfully, continuing to cut the pork belly. "What're you talkin' about? They're not in here yet!" he whispered, laughter trailing his voice.
Tien self consciously looked towards the stairs. "And if they were? You do realize that they both levitate regularly, don't you?" he mumbled in embarrassment, Yamcha smiling and patting his chest with the back of his hand.
"I was just teasin', alright? I'll be a good boy," Yamcha continued, looking down at the pork before cutting a perfectly good slice. "Aha," Yamcha said in success.
Tien rolled his eyes, Yamcha relishing the red splotches on his cheek and neck, as he moved away to the hotpot, seasoning packet in hand.
The sky was a wet overcast, the paddy field reflecting the gray like a mirror. Wind blew in the April breeze, something fresh and new as Yamcha waded through the half-calf-high water, pants rolled up. The beginnings of the rice startups were poking through happily in the water, sticking up like green blades through the watery gray.
Tien had leaned over, burying the last few of the rice plant seedlings into the muddy waters. He stood up, water dripping from his arms, and nodded in satisfaction. "Should be about it. Now all we gotta do is keep an eye on the water levels, and we should have a nice crop come July."
Yamcha smiled, wading closer to Tien's side through the water. It sloshed against his upper leg, the mud squishing between his toes, and he almost felt the childlike curiosity of wanting to stomp in it. "Sounds good to me," Yamcha replied, standing beside him and looking out further upon the few acres of rice paddy Tien and him had prepared. Somehow, Tien managed to snag this location for a cheap price from an elderly farmer a few towns over, and the two of them managed to make some good use out of it.
Tien looked with him and smiled in pride. "I have good hope for this. Anything's better than last year's plant borer infestation, as far as I'm concerned."
Yamcha snorted. "God, don't even get me started on them fuckers. I'm not ready for that kind of commitment."
Tien laughed, shaking his head. "It'll be alright."
They stood together, the beginnings of rain beginning to sprinkle across the murky, reflective water of the paddy, rippling the waters. Tien blinked at this, not realizing it was raining, before beginning to turn around.
"Guess we should start heading back," Tien quietly muttered.
Yamcha gently pulled at his hand, letting Tien turn to face him before Yamcha kissed him.
The world didn't go quiet, nor did it spin like he read in all of his romance novels as a heartbroken young man.
He just felt the sprinkles of rain on his face, the warmth of Tien's cheeks and lips against his.
Beyond anything, it just felt.. normal. Like this was just another thing they had been this whole time.
He pulled away quietly, and Tien's face was beginning to bloom with red. His eyes, however, were calm. There was no shock, no sudden confusion- just acceptance. Tien nodded slowly, pulling Yamcha in and placing a small, chaste kiss on the top of his head.
Yamcha leaned his head against his shoulder, eyes closed. "You've done so well here," he said quietly.
Tien pulled away from him softly, gently grabbing one of Yamcha's hands and tangling his fingers with his own. ".. Come, now. Let's go back."
Yamcha looked at him, ignored his own burning cheeks, and smiled. "I need a shower, anyway. How can you stand all this mud, Tien?"
Tien suddenly snorted, shaking his head in embarrassment and began walking towards the direction of their boots on the paddy's dry edge, hand in hand with his partner. "When I'm with you," Tien chuckled quietly, "everything else just becomes a secondary annoyance."
Yamcha 'aww'ed quietly at that, feeling smirky. "Everything changes when you're with me, huh? Your darling thief."
Tien smiled.
".. It always has," Tien replied, a fond, soft look on his face.